I have traveled the spectrum of writing through stories, novels and microstories, from just a few lines to hundreds of pages. The subjects have been many, from the most earthly to the fantastic, focusing always on humanity, that which gives meaning to literature.
Since my first days as a reader, the alleged border between reality and fantasy seemed illusory to me. I fed off books that explored those distant territories and found that they were all about the same thing.
My literature is inhabited by a wide range of characters that coexist in one same story. Vampires, underground wrestlers, cops, politicians, brilliant scientists, cyborgs, torturers, gods, businessmen, executioners, angels, ghosts, anonymous heroes and messianic mad men. Plots are conformed by seemingly opposing materials: mythology, repression, science fiction, criminal organizations, high-tec conspirators. I believe that this variegated mix makes it more real.
We live in a world where the virtual, due to technological advancement, encourages this kind of paradoxes. Poles that an absolute mind would consider mutually exclusive coexist in my work. For example, my science fiction novels do not comply with a purist and orthodox sense, as they meet with the new detectives’ genre. As a result, my narrative attracts young people, even if it isn’t my original intention.
The social aspect comes from my own story. I lived my teenage years in the late seventies, when the world exploded in hopes for deep change. In the case of Chile, the utopian dream –a wonderful junction of socialism and democracy that brought down a few dogmas– collapsed under paralyzing blood and fire.
I was 17 when the dictatorship began with its charge of death and terror. I have always lived and fought in my country, I lived the everyday horror for the next 17 years. That fact marked my life more than any other. That is why solidarity, ambitions, hatred, altruism, revenge, love and humor are intense characters of my narrative world.
I published my first book in 1984, belatedly, when censorship ceased, although there were still five more years of dictatorship. It was called Nada ha terminado. To the list, I can now add six books of short stories and three novels, several reeditions, some abroad. Several unpublished books awaiting their turn. But all united by the same force: to explore the boundaries between different territories through words.