Personal Growth Das Lavendelzimmer Ebook


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Showing all editions for 'Das Lavendelzimmer: Roman', Sort by: Date/Edition Format. All Formats (96); Book (1). Print book (82); Large print (8); eBook (5). Ein unwiderstehlicher Roman über die Macht der Bücher, die Liebe und die Magie des südlichen Lichts: „Das Lavendelzimmer“ – ein internationaler Bestseller. The NOOK Book (eBook) of the Des lavendelzimmer by Nina George at Barnes & Noble. FREE Shipping on $25 or more!.

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Das Lavendelzimmer: Roman (German Edition) - Kindle edition by Nina George. Publisher: Knaur eBook; 1 edition (April 26, ); Publication Date: April Please, help me to find this nina george das lavendelzimmer ebook. I'll be really very grateful. ty girlz its a girlz world game · private trackers isp. Free Shipping. Buy Das Lavendelzimmer - eBook at

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nina george das lavendelzimmer ebook

Una piccola libreria a Parigi. The Little Paris Bookshop: De boekenapotheek aan de Seine. Nina George; Yuchan Lu. Letra e harruar: The little Paris bookshop: Home About Help Search. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy Terms and Conditions. Remember me on this computer. Cancel Forgot your password? Sort by: Where I discuss Heraclitus, Hegel, Spinoza, the Big Bang, poetry and the difference between culture and lifestyle with a Persian cigarette vendor.

Where people past the age of 50 miss driving the 12 miles to Tijuana without passing border control. Where they hang out at the beach, share a meal and simply enjoy life the way children do. The manager is French, from St.

He developed a special menu for The Little French Bistro. Sixty ladies sample coquilles St. Jacques and shrimp rilette. Flowers on the tables reflect the colors of the book cover.

Alcohol flows freely, and I decide to read half a page and improvise a standup comedy routine. I sign books for an hour, while outdoors the silky blue sky hangs low over the dry and simultaneously green landscape.

The resort has to keep its lights off at night; nearby, an astronomical observatory peers with a thousand eyes deep into the endless expanse of space that envelops us. The valets who park the really huge, white, gold and beige SUVs are barely older than 21; who has three hours of free time on a Thursday afternoon?

Some of the clothing exudes discreet wealth. The earrings. The manicures. At the same time, the women radiate an alert responsiveness. Straight talk. Constant eye contact as I sign their books. An astonishing number of them appraise my skin, ask why I look so young for a year-old.

Startled shudders run through the crowd. I love all these women. Their overabundance of warmth. Their willingness to be amused, under which lies a crystal-edged clarity. These are women who possess an inner strength, a purposefulness.

This gathering, I have to admit, is a shining star on the entire tour. Eating, drinking, intelligent clowning around. In an exquisite setting with an understated, luxurious ambience and excellent service from staff who are warm, genuine and professional all at the same time. Where in Germany would such a concept take catch on? In Hamburg, where the moneyed crowd hangs out? In Munich, where many a lady has enough free? Or would it not work at all? Maybe not in exactly the same way but with certain differences?

Should we spend more time talking with our listeners instead of reading to them for 90 minutes? It took Elizabeth five years to make her idea take shape. I discuss travel bans with an Iranian literature professor named Poteh. We talk about the refugee crisis. He tells me that Germany is doing well in this area, better than other countries.

Paris scares him. We arrange to get together in He wants me to give some lectures at his university. A selfie. The truth. I put down my cell phone. The Pacific ebbs and flows. The sea lion family shares the first news of the day. Colonies of birds. The air carries the scent of ammonia.

The crowd asked questions for a whole hour. The last one had to do with Trump. Grumbling from the audience. He rubs them the wrong way. Anyone — man or woman — can be president.

That is the American Dream. To vote for whoever you wish to as well. To live with the outcome of an election — even a non-election — means living in a democracy. To get involved. Engage with others. This is precisely what our times demand of us. Long applause. The woman who asked the question has brought along her dog, Andy. She has me sign the book for him. Julie and Mary Lee give me a four-pack of champagne and a bottle opener.

Hear that, German book business? I sign a hundred books. A couple, both over 75, dance the Tango Argentino. It helps me give to others: It comes from the same source it always did. What makes you think you have anything important to say? I write to gain an understanding of life. Does it have a purpose? Does it make sense?

I always wanted to make a difference in my life. I wanted the random fact of being the four millionth person in the world to be more than a coincidence. I will shine for some years. But in years, or , I will just be another person in the nameless crowd. Like everyone. Like all of us. I find comfort in this. That way, I can exist in the here and now. No one swims in the same river twice.

A Navy helicopter flies low over the Pacific. Slowly, I make my way back to the hotel. Wide awake. I swim through time, always moving forward and yet also backward. The famous fog that envelopes the Golden Gate Bridge so decoratively is often ice-cold and can give unsuspecting tourists a first-class case of the sniffles.

The drive to Danville in heavy Memorial Day traffic stretches out to a good two hours, although the return trip later that night takes us only 40 minutes.

On the way, we pass through San Francisco: Nob Hill—Snob Hill—the low-rent districts, which are not so low-rent anymore, now that the price of a San Francisco lease has shot through the roof.

As has the number of homeless people living on the streets—including the ones with a job, who work in hotels or on cleaning crews.

Deirdre tells me that the people who work at Facebook, Google and other Internet companies are driving up the prices. They are inundating the once affordable neighborhoods, earn good money and take the virtual world rather than the analog one as their religion.

Big Browser's watching you I notice that there are hardly any supermarkets around. Where do people go shopping? Amazon, Uber, Google—the New York native rejects these concepts because they destroy entire living environments and thoroughly undermine markets with a whole range of destructive consequences. Higher rents and empty stores. Anyone not in the high-tech business has to work longer hours for less money, and yet they suffer enormously under the impact of restructured analog living space.

Maybe Twin Peaks. The city spreads out below us. The wind is so cold that my legs still have goosebumps a quarter-hour later. But my head, my heart, soars free; the view is unforgettable. Rakestraw Books in Danville.

Small, neighborly, cramped. Something about this city makes me feel sad and aggressive. I point to the ashtray stand that is positioned right in this spot.

She tries to talk a man into making me move on, but he ignores her. Rakestraw Books Danville No! The Starbucks barista tells me that she used to teach English in Mongolia. Her eyes are filled with globetrekking experience. She talks about hunting birds and horse races in Mongolia, about the women who prove their mettle as warriors, as clan chieftains. Rakestraw Books has organized a dinner event. The sun comes out as Heidi walks across the parking lot. What a sweetie!

Sending you hugs from the Scarlet Huntington Hotel. I talk for five minutes after the charcuterie is served and 25 minutes after the main course. I barely have time to eat. I notice with slight irritation that bookseller Michael fails to offer me water as I arrive.

Instead, he shoves me out the door to wait until everything is ready. And when I ask if I can have a glass of wine before my talk, he smiles and ignores my request. Everyone loves Michael. They describe him as creative and dedicated. To me, he seems like a little princeling in his paper kingdom, who feels nothing more than indifference toward me, the author from Europe.

Instead, I crank up the charm and mingle with the audience. From time to time, I pitch in and help clear away the empty plates and thus chat with everyone at all seven or eight tables. Patricia and I arrange to meet for tango lessons and wine tasting at her house in Take that, Michael! I become pen pals with Linda. Nevertheless, it astonishes me to discover that details can hurt me, far more than open attacks.

The glass of water not offered. The failure to say a few words about who the hell I am. What did the audience appreciate the most? At first, some self-conscious clearing of throats all around. Then the roughly 50 listeners, mainly female, mainly on the far side of 55, 60, got into the groove. Spontaneous applause. Cable Car joy ride San Francisco in the morning. I take the time to wander about for three and a half hours. Music everywhere. Food from around the world: Indian, Chinese, French, vegan, gluten-free of course.

Sword swallowers. Bible salespeople. Alcatraz fans. Cardboard figure of Donald Trump. Sunlight sparkling on water. Cable cars. I tip Saul a dollar. He calls me sweetie, and from then on I get the seat with the best view throughout the tour. Beggars everywhere, relieving me of my spare change. I play around with old fortune teller machines, which crank out my future—nightclub hostess. Well, then. I meet Jack and his two cats in front of the Ferry Building.

Tonight I will finally drink a California Sauvignon — in my ballroom-sized hotel room no minibar. Sometimes Deirdre says things the same moment I think of them. What will you be? Smile with Saul I struggle with the Air France app. Only euros for a sleeping pod on the ten-hour flight. I realize this. Proximity to my inner self. My beach. The cliffs. The Breton sky. The majestic landscape. My novel. And yet these days of travel will leave deep traces in my soul.

More tomorrow. Good morning Tai chi on Nob Hill. At the distant end of California Street, the Bay Bridge is enveloped in cold morning fog. Local time in East Frisia, Germany: What do I find different about book tours in the United States? Does the audience value contact with authors? Is there anything the German book trade can borrow from the Americans?

What impressed me? This is what impressed me: The support offered by the readers. The desire to strike up conversations, ask questions—and good ones—craft questions, personal and political ones, questions focusing on specific aspects of the book.

Authors are valued for their courage and creativity. Not viewed as addled fools or grandstanders. And these are not just the people who happen to be in the bookstores.

Cab drivers, doormen, people I meet at the airport. None of the smug condescension you sometimes encounter in Germany. But, wait a minute. Lola, the cashier dog pants in rapt attention. Two of the booksellers tell me they wept with joy and excitement on hearing that Crown was sending the author of The Little Paris Bookshop to their store. Their words deeply touched my heart. I learn that half of Healdsburg has read The Bookshop, and the small, congenial gathering of perhaps 40 or 45 people are so approachable with their easy laughter and many questions, that they make this final stop a warm, highly personal and intimate end to my tour.

One person opens the book to the page to be signed. A third person pulls the book away and hands it to the final associate, who places it on the stack. A monster job! Once again, I signed books like a bat out of hell. She reads everything she can find that mentions Paris or France. Americans love novels set in Italy or Paris. And once again, I hear: Berlin novels!

How exotic! How do we get them translated? American publishers buy only licenses to German books. The proverbial eye of the needle. I go outside to smoke, come back inside. Drink champagne. Go out for another cigarette. You are so European! I must be the only woman who smokes in all of California.

The states that have the worst problems with painkiller abuse and the most deaths related to opiate overdose, those are the states where Trump won the most votes. Publishers pay the travel and hotel expenses only for certain authors. Even more rarely do they provide media escorts, and so I am very, very fortunate. At the same time, I question the way a narrow focus on bestselling authors limits the book market and its diversity even more.

There are two sides to everything. This means that any indy bookstore can easily present an author every day! Some bookshops even organize two or three author events daily. Literature lunches. A show in the evening. People from the neighborhood come to these events, and they turn the store into something that is as much a local hangout as a commercial enterprise.

Amazon has bought the organic supermarket chain, Whole Foods. Deirdre wonders whether she can ever go shopping there again. By where else can she go? Amazon wants to roll out an online food business. They intend to sell everything that can be sold; to ship it all by U. A dystopia: Only enormous, central warehouses, far outside the city limits, lots of security, buzzing with air conditioners, the products they contain ultimately unaffordable.

Later, at night, it will simply pass us by in a flash. Few stars are visible. Light pollution. Most of my listeners tonight might travel to Brittany only for the chance to see the Milky Way. The distant, star-studded night skies…I pine for the deep, dark night at the end of the world. At the beginning of the world. I pine for the gentle charm of lush, green nature. The evolved history of European cities.

I long precisely for this: The profundity of time, in urban and rural landscapes, legends. The cultivation of farmland and its products. I rarely ate a good meal in the United States. Which, for me, means delicious, quality ingredients. A kingdom for a ripe melon.

A full-flavored tomato. A decent loaf of bread. Salted butter from the cows of Normandy. Olive oil. Ripened cheeses. I can taste it. Smell it. Sense it. Old World. Deep-rooted traditions. A sense of the profound, developed over centuries and millennia. In the European mentality, landscape, architecture, politics and literature. In the way we deal with things worthy of conservation. There is a different kind of solidity to the European soul.

There has to be a better way to express this. Stability comes to mind. Having a point of reference. Not just a faux presence but one that comes from deep within.

Indeed, America often seems to have a faux presence. Yeah, this is how we do certain things.

Super healthy living. Anyone can be president, even Kanye West who even hired a campaign team. America has lifestyle and practices. Common grounds and trends. The American Dream. The acceptance of the need for diversity. Cultural history. The U. Europe is built on many layers of bedrock with thousands of nuances. This stability, this depth, is what I miss the most here.

However, I also understand why disruptive markets gain such a strong foothold here. They embrace destruction because they are unfamiliar with preservation—with preservation and its advantages.

Modernity does not always mean smarter or better. Sometimes novelty is only something different or simply crap. Any author who seems too distant, too narcissistic, to self-important, too shy, too fearful, will hate these book tours.

Trump—not Trump. Freezing in air-conditioned rooms. Huge SUVs. The intensity of the emotions that my listeners manifest to me. Security checks. Uber cars. Poverty—oh, God, the poverty of the homeless. The broken-down healthcare system. The absolutely terrible roads. Really, crappy roads everywhere.

Formats and Editions of Das Lavendelzimmer : Roman []

Traffic jams, long taxi rides, airports, upstairs, downstairs, traffic jams again. Half an hour to change clothes. Then on to the next place. Traffic jams. Show time. Floating freely Then again that warmth. That part was easy for me—the give and take of striking up conversations.

The poor in America will see their lives getting continuously worse. And yet: Seeking moments of joy. Time is smiling in my hand. I float freely, a peculiar feeling, far beyond any reliable sense of time. Or English. I shower. Eat breakfast. My first full American breakfast instead of a coffee, cigarette, bagel and melon.

This is not Trump's land. It is discovering the many different forms of rebellion—the sublime to explicit resistance. It is discovering feminism as a political necessity. It is discovering Europe and Germany as role models. It is learning what media can really do. Even Teen Vogue is getting political.

America is discovering itself, or so it seems to me. It is entering the age of a new enlightenment. By this time tomorrow 6: It will take my soul a bit longer than that. Porous raw feelings because I travel with all my senses switched on and my emotions switched off. Just now, I almost succumbed. Coming home. The Little Paris Bookshop is a book whose palette, textures, and aromas will draw you in and cradle you in the redemptive power of love.

A vulnerable, relatable tale of great love and loss, missed opportunities and moving on, The Little Paris Bookshop is, like the books its main characters recommends, medicine for the wounded soul. You read and reread phrase after evocative phrase. The characters lingered long after I had finished it and the sense of time and place made me want to book a flight to Paris immediately. Jean Perdu runs a bookshop from a beautifully restored barge on the Seine. But Monsieur P cannot cure his own secret grief.

When an enigmatic new neighbour comes to live in his apartment building on Rue Montagnard his life is changed completely. You will LOVE it.

The unearthing of a long lost letter from his lost love prompts him to reclaim his own life. A book filled with a plethora of emotions, loved it! Yet its themes are serious — friendship, lost love, grief and new beginnings. But he has nursed a broken heart for 21 years after the love of his life fled Paris, leaving a handwritten note Jean has never dared to read.

Now might be the time to find his beloved. I have so many books on my TBR list that it seems silly to not move on to the next. But as soon as I turned the last page of this sweet book, I turned it over and wanted to start it all over again.

I'm jealous of those who get to read it for the first time. Sappy as that may sound, it is the absolute truth. She masterfully sidesteps the potential for trashiness inherent in her material and instead tells a story that is as poetic as it is charming. The novel is filled with highly quotable observations about life and death, fear and sorrow, friends and friendship.

Summer reading at its finest! An experience that lends itself to dreaming! May lead to tears. One must devote time to the reading of it, since the story works its way into the soul. Not to be missed! The Little Paris Bookshop by Nina George is an experience that will make readers thank their lucky stars. And yet it is far more than a mere romance novel dominated by love and loss. In the end, you will be all set to pack your bags. This novel deserves the highest praise.

A tale of love, life and the courage to have faith in oneself and take a chance. All told, The Little Paris Bookshop is a compassionate and thoughtful story with a measure of humor, told in a finely nuanced style. It is a truly lovely book, a light read but also a thought-provoking one. An excellent vacation entertainment—even for those who stay at home. One can literally smell the scent of lavender and feel the warmth of sunny Provence. A wonderful tale about love and life.

It is a love story told with compassion. Kudos to Nina George—I am impressed. The result is an enchanting love story filled with poetic force. The strong voice and frequently lyrical language lend the novel a special charm. A terrific story about life, love, pain, sorrow, despair and above all—hope. And then there is the The Double-Effect: Nina George reports on her journey to international literary fame.

What is a double taxation treaty? Which sex scenes did the U. In her essay for Federwelt, the author discusses the joys and setbacks she has encountered in her literary career as well as the peculiarities of the international book market. November 18, , 8 p. On the carpet with Daniel Kehlmann.

Put the Kehlmann aside for the moment. Crown has requested a pre-empt. There is no way this can be happening. I picture my agent sitting on her moving boxes, eating pizza and drinking red wine. You never get calls like this in real life. After all, my life has been nothing but chaos for the past six months. Despite everything, my father—my confidant, my inner strength—is still dead.

And in 23 other languages, enough to console the whole world. I have one hour to decide. Then we both scream into the phone and dance a wild jig, my agent in her pajamas. With its pre-empt, Crown secured the U. I now share a publisher with Michelle Obama and Gillian Flynn.

The Italians acre difficult, the Americans jealous A miracle is what has happened. Or perhaps a logical progression, because once the ball gets rolling, this is how it goes: The German book market is the third largest in the world, after the United States and China.

When England acquires a book, the Americans get all territorial. An English-language edition means access to the world market, Hollywood and aggravation. New York prefers to keep the world market, Hollywood and aggravation to itself: Random House and its Broadway imprint, for instance. Once Broadway gets on board, Taiwan and China become restive. Meanwhile, Russia… My head hurts as I listen to my agent explain what it really means for an author to be translated into 26 languages.

It means fame, merciless Goodreads reviews and a new photo for the dust jackets. It also means filling out exemption forms for double taxation treaties—in Korean, Finnish and Italian.

My tax advisors feel the stress, both globally and locally. For each contract, I must wait an average of two years to get my money.

I will receive huge e-book percentages in markets where digital piracy has destroyed the e-book market the Netherlands and Spain. Then there are markets like the United States, where people toss around six-figure numbers of any kind as easily as we German engage in lamentation. At the time this article is published, I will be giving a reading in Riga. In English, with the Latvian translation projected onto a movie screen. Kind of insane, I think. Cover and title design: The Italian image has a voluptuous blonde strolling along a shady lane.

The United States and the U. The Dutch cover shows a riverboat bookshop sailing down the Seine. The Forgotten Letter. Because Poland has active reader communities, the Polish publisher replaced the customary blurb and its few lines of praise with reader reviews on the back of the book and inside the cover. The whole world is reading my work. Barendsma - cecile cblagency. Patricia Kessler at Droemer Knaur patricia. Daniel Schultz danielschultz t-online.

Schriftstellerin www. April 9, The Book of Dreams. An astonishing exploration of the thresholds between life and death. The Book of Dreams. Advance praise for The Book of Dreams: Release date: The Little French Bistro.

With a profound sense of place and sensuous prose, the novel functions as a satisfying virtual visit to the French Riviera. A luscious and uplifting tale of personal redemption in the tradition of Eat, Pray, Love. Fans of Elizabeth Gilbert and Isabel Allende will adore this courageous story of new beginnings, second chances, and the power of self-love.

The message of this beguiling, second-chance romance—a rich life is possible at any age—will charm readers with its ring of truth. Mar 06, Paperback Pages. The Little Paris Bookshop. There are even remedies — I mean books — that were written for one person only… A book is both medic and medicine at once. It makes a diagnosis as well as offering therapy.

Everything happens just as you want it to The next best thing to booking a trip to France. The Little Paris Bookshop is available in 37 countries and languages. Germany Das Lavendelzimmer Order now. Netherlands De Boekenapotheek aan de Seine Order now. Italy Una piccola libreria a Parigi Order now.

Spain Sabor a Provenza Order now. Latvija Lavandu istaba Order now. Jean Perdu knows exactly which book a customer should read to ease the suffering of the soul. The embittered policewoman treats everyone she meets with mistrust—except for a roaming black tomcat, who works his way into her heart.

Die Mondspielerin The Moonlight Musician. It was the first time Marianne had ever made a decision on her own. The first time she got to choose a course of action.

What price do we pay for love?

Men and their words. Navigating the pitfalls of how men communicate. New weapons for women. A crime novel set in Hamburg. And so she resolved to die …. Mysteries are balm for the soul in times of uncertainty.

Book Tour Diary. Writer's life We have a traditional, typicial German view on literature: Read more: Ernest Hemingway wrote in the nude, even while standing up.

Victor Hugo used to lock himself in his room naked while writing the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I mean the internal kind. This force, this attitude, is what I call daring to be naked. The more an author strips herself bare—brazenly, clearly and bluntly saying what she or he really wants to express with meaningful, carefully chosen words and heartfelt, unfiltered emotion—the more powerful the story will feel.

Beginning writers shy away from literally stripping themselves bare, especially when it comes to the dark, unsettled aspects of life. When it comes to sex. Or the desire to kill.

Overindulgence in alcohol. The feeling one gets when two men kiss. The brutality of childhood. The drive to commit suicide, the fear of death, the smell of the hospital floor where a loved one lies dying.

Have you done all those things yourself? How does your husband feel about that? Anyone who wishes to write about dangerous, unconventional, difficult things, about things that go beyond social conventions, will strip herself bare.

Every time. If not, her story will be intolerably tedious, since by trying to please everyone, she will inspire no one. Life is too short for feeble stories that stomp on the literary brakes. Take a stand! Strip yourself bare! By the way, it helps to write in the nude from time to time. Try it sometime. Maybe not right this minute…wait till you get home.

Which brings us to a point that is closely related to being naked:. A writer needs three things: A physical space, but also a temporal, intellectual one. In any case, one that is private. I have an Israeli colleague whose house is bursting at the seams. The children respect this magic trick, and the hat gives him space to think.

A friend of mine who writes crime fiction seeks out the Berlin University Library. Jonathan Franzen rents an office on an industrial estate for each novel and works on an old IBM laptop without Internet access. When a Hamburg-based author lies on the couch and stares at the ceiling, her children have learned to read her message loud and clear: Claim one for yourself.

When your children are out of the house, the play room is yours. Make it your refuge. Writing needs privacy, but not everyone can afford to build her sanctuary next door to the bedroom. A room of your own is the living space for your writing, a refuge for the mind. It gives you independence and the solitude you need to finally hear your own voice. You are free here, behind closed doors. Or perhaps it is an occupation that builds a better world than the one he has to offer. These women get up two hours earlier than usual in the morning in order to write in secret on the top of the toilet tank; they write while riding the train to their primary jobs; they hide their notebooks in laundry detergent boxes.

Both relationships require time, attention—and love. They both do. Writers are twice as likely to develop a serious drinking problem than non-writers. Alcohol is the ticket to transcendence. Not only is writing bright, passionate, pure, rational and intellectual, it is also dirty, demonic, fear-inspiring.

Drinking while writing was long considered essential to creativity. Let me just say this: However, one thing I do want to impress on you is this: Never use social media while drunk. Since muses rarely show up from 9 to 5 to offer their input and deliver a profusion of words, authors must keep preparing their minds and souls for the creative and revision process on a daily basis. Writing often demands discipline, resistance to distraction and forcing oneself to buckle down to work day in and day out.

Colette liked to delouse her cats before writing. Schiller sniffed dried apples.

A colleague of mine cleans her kitchen—and many others read passages in a book. The best choice is a book they hate, one that is so bad it boosts their confidence in their own creative abilities. Or they pick a book they love and admire.

Most importantly, one that brings forth that internal buzz, the state of relaxed tension in which free writing comes so easily. They are catalyst books. What is your catalyst, the book that entices and seduces you, that motivates you to write?

JOLYN from California
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