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F. J. Nanic was born in Sarajevo, currently residing in Portland, Oregon.
When the war in his country broke out, he was in Paris studying.
After his hometown ended up trapped under siege for months, with his father still there hanging on a thread, the only way he could help was sending him packages with food and some money when he could.
Meanwhile, in Laval, France, he worked with the ex-prisoners of concentration camps in Omarska and Manjača liberated by the Red Cross, helping them settle down and learn French.
All along writing was mostly what helped him make it through the uncertain times never knowing what tomorrow would bring.
He also composed and performed music, first busking in the streets of Amsterdam and then in the subway of Paris.
His music and his literary work are flip sides of the same coin that keeps on spinning…
One of his favorite lines is from a book about Charles Bukowksi:
“You… Read more
P. S. There is one more book called IN ONE WITH that I don’t include on purpose because it was scammed into a contract by a “traditional” publisher…