We had left Olivier Bourdeaut, a very well-behaved, shy young writer, wearing a little navy blue sweater, a round neck, ironed pants and a particularly unrebellious streak.
It was in 2016, he published his first novel, the formidable “Waiting for Bojangles”, which will become the bestseller of the year with sales now flirting with a million copies.
We find him eight years later in a Parisian café for the release of “Personal Development”, a hilarious and moving intimate story.
Black felt hat, messy hair and leather jacket, although the look has changed, the writer has lost none of his verve and his humor, and he remains the king of self-deprecation.
“He makes me a little pity, this Olivier Bourdeaut of the time who was afraid of everything, wondered what he was doing there meeting journalists, laughs the person concerned, who handles the second degree like no one else.
I have always alternated in my life between the petit bourgeois and grunge look.
When I wrote
Bojangles
, although megalomania devoured me, I obviously felt like an imposter and I dressed like an old writer!
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