Sebastian Fitzek

If I had always listened to my head when choosing my best friends and categorized them as potentially useful or useless companions, then—I dare say—my life would have taken a much worse turn. And that’s been the case since I was ten years old! Back then, I was in 5B at Wald Elementary School and was about as popular as you can be when you have to wear your seven-years-older brother’s hand-me-downs and are also a full decade behind in hairstyle trends (courtesy of Mom). Imagine a broad-nosed grump with a bowl cut, leather pants, and an aluminum briefcase, who prefers to spend his free time in the school library. Yes, exactly: I was the classic book nerd whom no one wanted on their team in dodgeball, unless as cannon fodder. Well, and then Ender came along. He started school late, had to repeat a grade once, and the teachers called him »German Turk«—the biggest bully in school. When he walked through the classroom door, I thought a father had come to pick up his child a little early. But then the coolest of the cool was seated next to me. The homeroom teacher probably figured that the nerd (i.e., me) could have a good influence on the problem child (i.e., Ender). Of course, it was exactly the opposite. Ender changed my life; mainly by liking me, which of course might have been because I helped him with his homework. And believe me, that happened without any coercion or me having to give him my sneakers in exchange. On the contrary—he brought me my first pair of Adidas shoes to paint myself from his father’s sports store, to free me from my ugly square-toed shoes. And since he, the popular kid, became my friend, it rubbed off on the herd of classmates who, until then, hadn’t even wanted to ignore me. Ender also taught me many useful things that a elementary school student desperately needs for everyday life: for example, how to smoke a cigar (bad idea to try it behind the gym while the gym teacher jogs by). Later, he smuggled his father’s R-rated videos out of the apartment (Rollerball, The Class of 1984, Dance of the Devils, Zombies in the Department Store, and—of course—Rattlesnake with Kurt Russell; you’re not allowed to see any of those yet, but now you can guess where my passion for thrillers comes from). In short, I owe Ender a lot, and it’s nice to still be friends with him today. Of course, I visit him every Sunday at the prison (just kidding)....

So now you know why I already used the name Ender in „Abgeschnitten“ and why I like thrillers so much.

To give you an even better picture of me and who I am, I'd like to outline the most significant milestones of my professional life for you:

Let's forget for a moment that until I was 15, I dreamed of making a living by bashing a felt ball over a tennis net for hours. When I realized that even the ugliest guys are admired by pretty girls when they step out of a tour bus and climb onto the stage with a guitar in their hand, I knew: I have to become a rockstar! My plan failed, among other things, because I never got out of a tour bus, but mostly out of a VW Beetle, and I didn't perform on the Waldbühne, but in the cafeteria of the local hockey club. Besides, I had chosen the probably stupidest instrument to impress the opposite sex: the drums. They couldn't even see me behind my drum kit!

Let's skip over the fact that I studied veterinary medicine for three months before realizing I would need a damn good lawyer if I wanted to pursue that career. That would have protected me from the numerous malpractice lawsuits that would have been filed against me due to my two left hands. So, I decided to study law right away, actually hoping to at least manage bands and their record deals in the end, since a life as a rock star had been denied to me. However, I only made it to the first state examination, after which I followed up with my doctorate in copyright law. And that was really just to have some kind of degree, because back then (1996), without a second examination, you weren't even considered half a lawyer. I thought if I introduced myself somewhere as Dr. jur., everyone would think I was a fully qualified lawyer or judge. Plus, a friend had told me that with a doctorate on your credit card, you would always get a room upgrade at hotels. (Did I mention that I'm naive?) The upgrade thing is, of course, complete

Because in 1996, I actually thought I had reached my dream career goal. I had a traineeship at the radio station 104.6 RTL while I was studying, and just three years later, I received an offer to become editor-in-chief at Berliner Rundfunk. Yes, yes, in the 90s, you could still easily advance your career in private media.

(Critics can't believe their luck that it turned out this way.) But I've always loved reading. And like everyone who reads a lot and enjoys it, after every good book I've wondered if I might one day have an idea that's good enough for a novel. (Critics still wonder about that today.)
The initial spark hit me in an orthopedic waiting room in the early 2000s while I was waiting for my then-girlfriend to finish her appointment. After about 45 minutes of waiting, I asked myself the crucial question that made me an author: „What if my girlfriend never comes out of the examination room again? What if everyone tells me she never even went in there?“ This was, I must emphasize, not wishful thinking back then. It was my very first thriller idea. And if you haven't already tossed my 2006 debut after the first page, you'll discover a parallel. Because in the prologue, a little girl disappears without a trace from a doctor's examination room, and they try to convince the waiting father she never entered. The rest is history, and the story is called „The Therapy.“.
Well, there's really nothing more to say. Except: Thank you for letting me dump my nightmares on you since 2006, so I can sleep peacefully like a marmot myself. I think we've developed a great division of labor here over the years...