Two women. One, a doctor accused of having saved the life of a Jehovah's Witness and her baby through a blood transfusion, and now you're going to be in big trouble. The other, a middle-aged woman, victim of a love scam who finds in a strange job interview the last foothold of a life on the edge of the precipice. These are the ingredients of Sala de espera (Alrevés), the debut novel that, like so many debut novels, its author, Iván de Cristóbal, carried within him.
"Risto Mejide and four other mutual friends organized an intervention for me, and threatened to deny me their greeting if I didn't put this story down in black and white," he explains at the bar while the atomic version of Oye cómo va by Carlos Santana accompanies the tasting of a mid-morning red vermouth.
Director of an advertising agency, communication professor at La Salle and columnist and reference professional in the field of brand strategy, the writer had to find time to shape his story, and for this he took refuge in an attic he has in the Vall de Lord, where he could finally write this story, "and where I'm dying to go back to not stop writing," he confesses about his next novel, "which I'm starting and already has a structure and first chapters."
—You're involved in very different fronts.
A smile appears on Iván de Cristóbal's face. "I consider myself a storyteller —he replies—. I always have been. Since I started working as a strategist in large consulting firms, when I wrote and shot short films, when I started my career as an advertiser, when I work as a professor at the university and now as a novelist." He takes a good sip of his vermouth.
—More than communicating, I try to inspire. And sometimes I succeed— he concludes.
Celluloid school
Before becoming a renowned publicist working with leading brands in sectors such as sports, energy or technology, Iván was already narrating through cinema, dedicating himself to scripting and directing several short films.
A moment from that stage that he remembers with great affection is "when we premiered my first eight-millimeter medium-length film at ESCAC, a story very similar to that of Tesis. Of course, when two years later Alejandro Amenábar premiered his debut film, I was able to discover the difference between passion and talent."
Be that as it may, that school of telling stories by then capturing them in small celluloid pills earned him several international awards and it would seem that, during that stage, the parishioner more than fulfilled his vital goal of inspiring.
Then, more or less inscrutable paths led him to other latitudes from which to continue inspiring, with the pride of reaching what for him is a great turning point: "When the famous and already cited publicist with dark glasses asked me to join his agency as general director, if this gentleman ever asked for anything, giving me the push I needed to change strategy for planning; consulting for communication."
Home
For the writer, "Barcelona is home: the city that saw me born and that, twenty years later, I saw reborn. And it's where my family is," he states, finishing his vermouth and ordering a Suntory with ice.
"One of my passions is walking through its streets, its squares, and its parks —he continues—, listening to the latest podcast about cinema or a good album from the 60s or 70s. I try not to repeat routes and, thus, discover new places. I have a special affection for the Mercat de Sant Antoni, the last stronghold of the collector and one of the most beautiful memories I have from my childhood with my father." Thus he navigates the countless street nooks of that great home of which, however, "as in any big city, the incivility of some of its inhabitants bothers me. That lack of empathy of those who believe they live alone."
In the background, Santana plays Samba pa ti, and a brief, reverential silence falls to enjoy the picking of the prodigious Jaliscan guitarist and his band.
—On another note, midday is just around the corner, in case you want to stay for a set menu, a sandwich, or some portion or combined dish…
And there, as in so many other vital fronts, Iván de Cristóbal is very clear:
"Portion! I never order anything to eat that is susceptible to being presented in a photo," he states. And, smiling, he adds: "Since I'm more of a sweet person, if there's a drink afterwards, I'll order a Sauternes."