FROM MY NOTES TO A PUBLISHED NOVEL: SEEING MY BOOK FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THE BELGRADE BOOK FAIR

It still feels a little surreal to be writing these words, but my debut novel, Tamo gore na noćnom nebu (Up There in the Night Sky), has finally made its way into the world and was presented at the 69th International Belgrade Book Fair.

I am still trying to gather my thoughts and find the right words for everything that has happened.

For years, I filled pages with thoughts, dreams, fears, questions, and fragments of conversations, without giving much thought to what might eventually become of them. Writing has always been my way of quieting my restless, stormy thoughts, of understanding myself and listening to my own inner voice, but above all, of preserving that voice and not losing myself in the tangled web of other people's opinions, expectations, and perceptions of the world.

I never imagined that all those pages might one day become a novel, much less that someone would actually want to publish it.

I have to admit that I was quite nervous about approaching the publisher's stand at the Book Fair and seeing my book for the first time. It may sound strange, but after years of those thoughts, sentences, and characters existing only in my mind, on paper, and on my computer screen, the idea that they had suddenly taken on a physical form felt almost unreal.

Something that had belonged only to me for so long was now standing among hundreds of other books, ready to find its readers.

And yet, when I look back on the past few years, I have this peculiar feeling that something had been persistently guiding me in this direction all along. As though the universe itself, through people and seemingly chance encounters, had been gently nudging me towards a decision I had never quite found the courage to make on my own.

Writers, artists, and mentors came into my life who, often without even realizing it, taught me that there is no reason to wait forever for the perfect moment. I watched them proudly present their work, sometimes long before it was finished, openly sharing their ideas and allowing others to become part of their creative process. From them, I learned that what we create does not have to be perfect to deserve a place in the world.

I particularly remember a poetry evening about a year ago. At one point, the poet addressed the audience, and I felt as though he were speaking directly to me. He said, more or less, that if there were people among us who wrote but had spent years keeping their pages tucked away in drawers, they should bring them out, share them, and publish them. If not for the world, then for their friends, their children, and those who might one day wish to hold on to something of ours. To leave a trace of ourselves, to share a part of who we are, something we carry within us but may never have found the courage to say aloud. I remember sitting there, listening, somewhat taken aback. It was as though someone had spoken aloud the very thing I had spent years trying to avoid.

Interestingly, that evening I was wearing a long, elegant yellow dress with a bow at the front. Quite unexpectedly, a year later, I found myself wearing that very same dress at the Book Fair, presenting my first novel. It was only when I looked back on those two moments that I became aware of this curious coincidence. Perhaps it was nothing more than chance, or perhaps some seemingly insignificant details reveal their meaning only when we look back on the journey that brought us here.

And speaking of unexpected encounters and little signs along the way, I was reminded of a photograph I took in Budapest. Legend has it that touching the pen of the Anonymus statue in Budapest brings inspiration to aspiring writers. I don't know whether that's really true, but three years after that encounter, I published my first novel. So perhaps there's a little truth to some legends after all.

I experienced a similar feeling during my stay at Château d’Orquevaux, an artist residency in France, which I have written about before in my article, “Château d’Orquevaux – A Place That Stays With You”.

There, surrounded by writers, painters, and artists from different parts of the world, I learned a great deal about creating art, but perhaps even more about having the courage to share what we create with others. I watched people proudly present their ideas and work, even when they were still unfinished, offering one another genuine encouragement, without competition or the need to prove themselves. Within that remarkable sense of community, I gradually began to understand how important it is to allow ourselves to be seen, with all our imperfections, doubts, and unfinished stories. I went there hoping to embrace myself as an artist, and returned with a much deeper faith in my own voice.

Perhaps I was not fully aware of it at the time, but today I believe that experience was another important step towards finally deciding to share my novel with the world. When I now connect all those encounters, conversations, and seemingly passing remarks, I feel that, in one way or another, they were all encouraging me to stop putting off something that meant so much to me.

And then, almost unexpectedly, I decided to submit my manuscript to a literary competition. Without any great expectations, perhaps simply wishing to give something I had spent so long creating a chance to exist beyond the pages of my notebooks.

To my great surprise, the publishing house Nova Nova Poetika saw something in my manuscript and gave it that chance.

And so, a few months later, I found myself standing before my very first book.

How Do You Explain a Story That Holds So Much of Yourself?

One of the things I realized throughout this experience is just how difficult it is to condense years of writing, thinking, and feeling into two or three sentences. Yet that is precisely what is so often expected of us today, whether we are speaking to a publisher, introducing a book, or trying to capture an audience's attention on social media.

What is your novel about?

Such a seemingly simple question, and perhaps one of the hardest for me to answer.

I could say that it explores love, art, faith, loss, anxiety, and the endless search for meaning. That it is about people who question everything, especially themselves, and who, despite all their doubts, long more deeply than anything to believe in something.

Perhaps that is precisely why I dedicated it to those of us who doubt, yet long most deeply to believe.

But the novel is also about so much that I cannot easily explain. About feelings we sometimes have no names for, questions to which we cannot find answers, and the strange ways in which we try to understand ourselves through other people.

Perhaps, rather than trying to explain any further, it would be better to let the novel speak for itself for a moment.

This is how it begins:

“The sky tonight is brilliantly dark, alive; it gazes at me through the pupil of the Moon. I don't know about you, but a sky like this makes me restless; I feel as though I could burst into tears, yet somehow, everything will be all right. Wonder and awe swirl within me; at times, I feel as though I am forgetting myself and my life down here on Earth.”

Perhaps those first few sentences already hold something of what I have been trying to express throughout the entire novel: that strange meeting of beauty and unease, fear and hope, the feeling that we are at once so small before the vastness of the world, and yet so full of our own inner universes.

And then there are Alina and Adrian.

Even today, I am not entirely sure where they came from. How they first appeared in my imagination, how they became so close to me, or how their conversations sometimes seemed to write themselves. But whenever I think of them, I cannot help but smile.

I am proud of my characters. Of their imperfections, fears, contradictions, and hopes. And of the thought that they now live beyond my imagination. That someone might come to love them, someone else might not understand them, someone might find themselves silently arguing with them, and perhaps someone will recognize in their thoughts something they have never been able to say aloud.

It also means a great deal to me that I designed the book cover myself, using one of my own paintings. In a way, writing and painting, the two forms of expression through which I have always tried to convey what words alone cannot easily explain, have finally come together in one place.

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For the One Who Believed in Me First

There is one person without whom my childhood, my journey into adulthood, and probably even the person I am today would have been very different.

My grandmother.

She gave me confidence when I had none. When I did not feel loved enough, beautiful enough, intelligent enough, or worthy enough. She never asked me to be different, better, or more successful to deserve her love. To her, from the very beginning, I was enough, exactly as I was.

Sometimes I think she saw me before anyone else did. Perhaps even before I had learned to see myself.

She would often tell me: “Know your worth, my child.”

Those simple words became deeply engraved in my heart, so much so that, years later, they found their way into my novel.

Because of her, I know what unconditional love means. The kind that asks for nothing, measures nothing, sets no conditions, and expects nothing in return. A love that simply sees you and accepts you.

That is why I dedicate this novel to her, with immeasurable love. For everything she was, everything she is, and everything she has woven into the person I have become.

And Now, a New Chapter

I am immensely grateful to the publishing house Nova Nova Poetika for believing in my work, to editor Vladimir Tomić for his words that meant so much to me, and to everyone who encouraged me, supported me, or simply stood by me along the way.

The novel is currently available in Montenegrin and can be ordered through the publisher or by contacting me directly. I hope that, in time, it will find its way into bookstores in Montenegro, and perhaps one day reach readers in other languages as well. I would especially love to see it published in English. That would be another dream come true.

I do not know where this experience will take me next. For now, I am simply happy, grateful, a little overwhelmed with emotion, and still surprised that all of this has really happened.

There is something both beautiful and frightening about opening the doors to a world that, for so long, belonged only to you.

And perhaps that is the very essence of writing.

The possibility that something born from our most intimate thoughts, feelings, and experiences might one day find a place in someone else's world.

And that someone we may never meet, while reading our words, might feel a little less alone.

📖 How to Get a Copy of my Novel ?

My debut novel, Tamo gore na noćnom nebu (Up There in the Night Sky), is currently available in Montenegrin. If you would like a copy, feel free to contact me directly or order it through the publisher, Nova Poetika, via their website. I hope to make it more widely available in Montenegro in the near future.

Available at the following link: https://novapoetika.com/knjizara/tamo-gore-na-nocnom-nebu-nina-sekulovic/

I look forward to sharing more updates as this literary journey unfolds. 🤍