Even today, with more than twenty-five published titles, Empar Fernández finds it hard to define herself as a writer. "I prefer to recognize myself as a novelist, I think it fits my career better. I like the term novelist more than the pompous label of writer," she clarifies while having a cold beer at the bar and accepting the radio playing in the background, "as long as you turn down the volume, as loud noises or music bother me."
Born in Barcelona in '62, the multi-award-winning and renowned author of titles such as Irina, La epidemia de la primavera, La cicatriz, La mujer que no bajó del avión or Hotel Lutecia, has been combining two professions for years. "On the one hand, teaching, which pays the bills and forces me to maintain social contact. Preparing to be a teacher was one of the best decisions of my life. On the other hand, and no less important, literature, which I chose knowing the many difficulties it entails. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that I'm much happier with a story in my mind. I don't disown either of them, both are fascinating." To this must be added a conspicuous activity as a columnist for various media.
Right now, she says she is revising her second young adult crime novel, Els pringats, and finishing a first version of the next installment starring her character, Mauricio Tedesco, the veteran and somewhat disillusioned inspector of the Mossos d'Esquadra responsible for the police investigation around which her recently published Será nuestro secreto (AlRevés) revolves: "It's one of my best-planned crime novels, let's say more well-rounded, and I hope Mauricio Tedesco has a long literary life."
Novelist, without eccentricities
"When I was still a child, I devoured books, both children's and adult, no one controlled what I read. My family worked in a publishing house and more books than toys came into my home. I always knew I wanted to write novels, but if they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I answered the first thing that came to mind." Even then, little Empar suspected that writing and publishing would not be an easy task. "I don't think I ever publicly stated my intention. However, and although I can't say how or when it happened, at some point in my youth, around thirty, I decided it was worth trying."
Thus she has been developing a literary corpus ---alone or very well accompanied by Pablo Bonell Goytisolo and Judith Pujadó--- of which she feels a singular satisfaction for having achieved a unique and clearly recognizable style. "I especially like it when a reader recognizes my style in one of my novels. 'It's so obvious you wrote it!' That's one of the best observations a reader can make to me," explains the regular, enjoying her beer, before continuing: "Although I have published several works of contemporary historical fiction, I am always associated with the crime genre, perhaps the one in which I feel most comfortable." She doesn't like, however, being labeled a "dark lady."
--- Dark lady? Curious label.
--- It's an expression assigned to female novelists who dedicate themselves to the crime genre and carries a certain point of eccentricity. I detest it!
A city that continues to surprise
Although she has always lived on the periphery, from Nou Barris to her current place of residence in Cornellà de Llobregat, the novelist considers Barcelona her city, her reference, despite her complete lack of adaptation ---"at least for now"--- to bike lanes, scooters "and other gadgets" that could run her over with any carelessness. "I have a very good relationship with the city's streets, with its shops. It continues to surprise me."
Some of these surprises still come to her from the historical flank and continue to move her, though sometimes for their "cruel and tragic" nature. And, finishing the last drops of her drink, the regular recalls when, in 1998, she was the scriptwriter for La ciutat foradada. "It's a documentary based on a study by Judit Pujadó and Pilar Frutos about the bombings of Barcelona by Italian aviation in 1938. And we documented the bomb dropped on the church of Sant Felip Neri, in whose basement children, mostly from other provinces, had taken refuge and were staying there. It was a massacre. Dozens of children died in that basement that did not withstand. The impacts of the shrapnel can still be seen in the square." As she explains it, the author and history professor's eyes well up.
--- Can I have another beer, also iced? ---she asks next.
--- Of course! And if you want, you can accompany it with something to eat. We have tapas, raciones, combined dishes, everything is delicious. And also an exquisite menu.
"Ración, tapas, pinchos... I'm open to suggestions," replies Empar Fernández, before smiling again as she adds: "As long as it's savory, without a doubt."