Spanish rights have been sold to Blues in the Night. I'm eager to see a copy of the translation, though with my high school Spanish, I doubt that I'll be able to read it,and my doubts were increased a few weeks ago when en the Hebrew translation of Blood Money (Kaspei Dam) arrived.
I'll admit I was excited. I can hold my own in conversational Hebrew (my accent is decent, too), and I studied the language throughout my elementary, high school, and college years: At last, I thought. A translation of one of my books that I can actually read (my knowledge of Icelandic, Dutch, and Japanese in non-existent; I'm able to make out some German and French). But when I tackled the first paragraph of the beautiful Hebrew trade paperback, the words that I didn't know outnumbered those that I did. Rather disconcerting, and humiliating.
When I finish Now You See Me, I plan to try the Hebrew version again, with a Hebrew-English dictionary and the original book at my side--and lots of patience.
In the meantime...
Tonight is the first night of Chanukah. I have five pounds of peeled potatoes, covered in cold water, waiting to be grated for latkes. A wick is floating inside the olive-oil-filled cup of our menorah. The menorah, polished and proud, is sitting on an embroidered cloth-covered table in front of our living room window whose drapes we will open so that passers-by will see the flickering light.
Actually, none of the above is true. I do have potatoes, and oil, and a menorah. And tonight, I hope to be ready. I am ready, now, to celebrate the miracle of Chanukah.