Life is made of mistakes and successes ultimately experience. We live, live, a part of that experience, according the script that sends us our own destiny. Sometimes however that script has recognized author. Because that experience that shapes our life takes many and various ways, sometimes it’s just a string of words and phrases, abstract ideas someone puts black on white, on paper or on a screen, someone writes a book.

In memories of my life are books; some have passed without leaving traces apparent, others however I will remember and I will always remember. Are those books that force you to reread again and may even twice. They are not many, One hundred years of solitude was.

Muchos años después, frente al pelotón de fusilamiento, el coronel Aureliano Buendía habría de recordar aquella tarde remota en que su padre lo llevó a conocer el hielo

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

I’m sure I reread it in part to order many Aurelianos Buendia, but when, years later, I have the book in my hands, I let myself be seduced by how the author knew how to keep the action. I was seduced by the unbridled imagination sometimes contained other, but always surprising which captivated me. Yes, One Hundred Years of Solitude is one of MY books, one of those that somehow, for better or worse, make you being you.

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Gabriel Garcia Marquez