Sergio Pérez Algaba

I started writing when I was very young, I loved getting lost in unexpected corners when already at school they asked us for some essay. I invented stories that I then adorned with illustrations, apparently I was good at it.

When I was 13 years old, I wrote my first novel “Alien Invasion” as a result of a dream, in which an alien spacecraft invaded Spain and the protagonist, a boy with the same age like me at the time, narrated in first person what happened that morning at school. He and his group of friends became strong, managed to contact other people from different parts of the country and together they undertook the reconquest, killing aliens left and right, traveling by motorcycle and playing Super Nes or meeting girls when they had a gap.

Later, around the age of 17, I wrote the second novel in my story about a night of drinking in the Tribunal park, when it was then open to all kinds of public, and a crowd of skins entered there wanting to distribute firewood. That night, a boy hides in a garage door, behind a garbage can, and while he hears people running and other screams, he remembers to remember the good and the bad of his life until then, because he didn't I thought I could get out of there if it wasn't feet first. “Sad memories of an asshole” was his name. Many other works remained in the pipeline.

Each of the 4 years of secondary education I participated in the annual painting competitions, always winning first prize, and the last year also writing, with a poem that came second. Those prizes were each around a check for 15,000 pesetas to consume in the bookstore behind the institute. Mortadelo and Filemón took a good part of the first one, but since I had to consume the rest of the money, I began to look for books that called me, that left me speechless, and I began to devour Juan José Millás, Julio Llamazares, Arturo Pérez-Reverte, Pío Baroja and Charles Bukowski among many others.

It was in full adolescence when I began to write everything, unfinished novels that I keep in a drawer, stories, tales and poems that, over time, I began to post on a blog, which I still use as a place to get rid of all the stories that they accumulate in my brain, and from which I have taken out four ebooks and one physical book, all of them stories, to make myself known in this complicated world in which I have sneaked for pleasure.

Signed: Sergio Pérez Algaba, aka "Serge Buk".