May 3
500 BOOKS TO FRANCE
Buy the book „Teach a dog tricks“ to invest into art!
„Teach a dog tricks“ was recognized in France as a book with a completely new view on our society! UNESCO decided to take part in financing Danijela Stanojević Majerić’s work on her new book “How to kill mother-in-law?” after examining her ideas and manuscripts. Good people from CAMAC have accepted Danijela to Marnay-sur-Seine for a period up to four months.
In order to help new Croatian literature develope, give another push to the old Croatian custom of letting the artist first be acknowledged in France, only to be afterwards welcomed in Croatia!
How can you help? By becoming friends with the author and purchasing the book „Teach a dog tricks“directly from the publisher www.astudio.hr (simply leave your data through contact form) and your very own copy will magically appear on your doorstep, signed by the author herself, and she will also contact you from France!
Or, even better! Meet her at the Grič cinema on Wednesday, May 12th 2010. at 8:30 PM, buy your copy at the entrance and meet her inside. Talk to the author and ask her anything you want to know. Enjoy yet another marvelous theater piece by Mario Kovač. Dada Jihad! will then take you over and beyond the music’s final frontier.
500 Books to France is an action organized to help you to help art to move on!
Make the author of the book your facebook friend! – Add her!
Visit Danijela’s web blog at at http://nptricks.posterous.com/, find out more about her and read a part of the English version of „Teach a dog tricks“
Apr 19
In Daily
Collection of the light stories that Danijela Stanojević Majerić, arty narrates situations between the things that are and the things we sense. Teach a dog tricks is the book you can read in one breath!
Apr 12
Best Shop
Teach a Dog tricks is a presented in “Best Shop”
Priče se ističu se i po slobodnom tretmanu seksualnosti i za književnicu je to dio zagrebačke sadašnjice, koju «Nauči psa trikovima» ironično prikazuje. Osjećaj urbanog života se potencira i stalnim spominjanjem poznatih zagrebačkih toponima, od parkova preko kvartova pa do klubova, s idejom obilježavanja kultnih prostora u prozi, kao što je to bilo uobičajeno u doba Novog vala. Nostalgija za osamdesetima pokazatelj je današnjeg stanja u Zagrebu, kojeg je, tvrdi Danijela Stanojević, tranzicija učinila gradićem. «Nauči psa trikovima» u deset priča prikazuje mnoge promjene u mentalitetu koje su se u međuvremenu zbile, od engleskog jezika koji se forsira u korporacijama do velikog utjecaja Crkve. Sam naslov pak nema veze s mogućim kućnim ljubimcem autorice, jer ona nema psa, nego s medijskim fenomenom reality showa: To je zadatak iz Big Brothera.
Mar 23
My Second Blog Post
I have been feeding the inner urge to practice literature since early youth, but have only got into some more serious writing with a column “Vaša Estera” (“Your Estera”) during college years, in late 1990’s. It was very popular, having cca. 5.000 unique hits per day, published on the biggest Internet portal at that time, Internet Monitor.
In 2001. Festival of A literature (FAK) announced a contest for the best short story, in which I decided to participate with my short story, “Nedjeljna euritmija” (“Sunday eurhythmy”). As a graduate at Faculty of Journalism, I won the competition with this provocative story, breaking prejudice of a homophobic society. The story is about two hairdressers making passionate love through cutting hair.
My writing is fast, progressive and razor sharp, it requires a lot of research that takes time to form the worlds able to analyze and criticize our society. My first book, “Nauči psa trikovima” (“Tech a dog tricks”), was written in this manner, a compilation of short stories. Such short stories are attractive due to their honesty and directness, seducing the reader that can easily identify with main character.
Mar 23
TEACH A DOG TRICKS
I'm reading my emails. Send/Receive. Ivan Korda, content assistant. It loads slowly, a *.jpg file. The image shows a boy and four girls. They are all naked; boy is the tallest and has a big penis. Subject says: “This is the really Big Brother”.
– OK, yeah, well… – Nikolina, creative producer, interrupts me checking my e-mails. – Like, it would be so cool if, like, we could keep the tension by… I mean, above the fence… – she grabs the root of her nose between her thumb and ring finger.
– I mean, like, to make it visually attractive… – she breaths in, and breaths out.
The really Big brother image crosses my mind. I’m silent. I’m trying to concentrate, but I can’t. It’s five o’clock in the morning.
– Yeah, well, I’m thinking something like an octopus and a shark appearing above the fence – she says. I’m staring at her in disbelief. I’m waiting. Is she finally going to tell me she’s joking? I’m still dead quiet. I wonder where this is going. This is not the first time she’s got great ideas or she knows what she wants.
A cab driver once told me that she’s the one really governing the whole Big Brother story. On the other hand, I’ve heard how she’s completely oblivious as to what she’s doing. I’m inclined to believe the cab driver since that is precisely the atmosphere of this television. People take other people’s credits, flaunt their titles for which they hold no responsibility. Highly unusual. If one repeats something over and over again, regardless of it being a lie, everyone will start believing it.
A lot of people with finished high schools, their complexes and fears of loosing their given positions, aware of the fact that their real potentials don’t reach up to them, are chasing and pressing on other people. College graduates, experts, intellectuals... are placing them underneath, so they would do both their jobs for a modest pay check at best.
– We’ll make those production people stick these things to staffs and then walk them above the fence. That’s how you create tension and inmates will have no other option but to stare at the fence, keeping watch through the night. And that’s, like... it I think! – she says, while I can’t help remembering her telling me how she only washes her hair at the hair dresser’s, the most expensive one in town.
– Right… – is the only thing I manage to calmly squeeze out as an image flashes before my eyes, of a rubber octopus attacking Bela Lugosi in an Ed Wood movie.
– And what are they supposed make these octopi from? – I ask. – Patchwork? – I smile. This amount of irony suits my position as main editor or content coordinator. Can anyone tell me what my position actually is?
– Oh, they’ll make it from something – then she waves her large shovel-like fingernails and I remember the performance she had the other day. A cab driver had brought her suitcase with her clothes in it and she told everyone to leave the content room so she could dress up. Than Ivan Korda, content assistant, explained something I had long forgotten – how good she is at selling herself.
– Perhaps we could take the “Teach a dog tricks” assignment? – I ask.
