Marcos Fortuño, perhaps the best contemporary Spanish novelist, has locked himself in “Casa Luna” one summer with the intention of writing a new novel. Carlota Omedes, his editor, had just died, and just before Marcos Fortuño had access to a surprising and enlightening revelation that had been conscientiously concealed for many years. If, until then, he had been tormented by an unspeakable lie, he now knew that he was nothing more than someone else’s protagonist.
Amalia, the young doctoral student also staying at “Casa Luna”, gradually becomes, inexplicably, perhaps without even knowing it, the muse that allows the writer to advance towards the end of his narrative, accompanied by the intimate events of that prodigious summer of olive trees, crickets and moles in hand.
Unexpectedly and, at the same time, logical are the disclosures which only through the form of the novel can the author come to understand himself. Each reader has the right to discover it in the way the author has decided to tell it. That is why nobody should reveal the secret by speaking of it: the opposite, otherwise this book would not be a novel, but a piece of news.