The Greenest Wind

The Greenest Wind – A Summer in Ireland

Coming soon!

For a long time I have wished for an English translation of this middle grade novel and was asked about it often. When it didn‘t come about via the German publisher or my agent as did the Dutch and Swedish translations I decided to invest in it myself – as a birthday present to myself.

I was very lucky in finding a just the right translator for my book: Award-winning Rebecca Heier. Collaborating with her was a joy. Still is.

Her interesting essay on translating was published in this edition of the magazine Words without Borders.

Below is the beginning oft the first chapter of The Greenest Wind (pre-proofreading, so there might be the odd missing comma etc.).

The e-book‘s publication date should be some time in winter 2018/2019. I will announce it on this website, in my newsletter, on Twitter and everywhere else I can think of.

Pre-order now. Or just admire the fabulous book cover by Sam Kalda.

Bald wird es die „Tüte grüner Wind“ auch auf Englisch geben!

Lange habe ich mir auch eine englische Übersetzung gewünscht und wurde immer wieder danach gefragt.

Dann habe ich mich entschlossen, die englische „Tüte“ selbst zu veröffentlichen und mir die Übersetzung zum Geburtstag geschenkt.

Als Übersetzerin konnte ich Rebecca Heier gewinnen, die den Text sehr einfühlsam ins amerikanische Englisch übertragen hat. Und das fabelhafte Buchcover von Sam Kalda kann man hier in voller Größe bewundern.

Der Erscheinungstermin steht noch nicht genau fest. Ich peile Ende 2018 / Anfang 2019 an. Sobald ich mehr weiß, steht es auf meiner Website. Und in meinem Newsletter.

Das E-Book ist bereits vorbestellbar.

Unten der Anfang auf Englisch. (Falls jemandem Zeichensetzungsfehler o. ä. auffallen sollten: Dies ist die Fassung vor dem Korrektorat.)

The Greenest Wind

A Summer in Ireland

Translated by Rebecca Heier

Chapter 1

Good-bye, California

"No, No, NO!" Lucy screamed, clapping her ears shut.

Her mother pulled Lucy's hands down and held them tightly.

"Sweetheart, please try to understand," she said. "It's the perfect opportunity for me to spend a couple of weeks with Kurt. He called just a little while ago and I had to give him an answer right away."

"But what about our summer vacation? You said we were going to California. You promised!"

"We can go to America some other time, Lucy, and we will. But Kurt would never understand if I turned down this chance to be with him on the ship. It's such a lucky break that a cabin opened up at the last minute."

Lucy's gaze bored a hole through the wall behind her mother. Through it, she could see California. The blue, cold Pacific. Wide beaches. The hilly streets of San Francisco. And the winery of Mama's friends where they'd planned to spend two weeks. A big, old, white mansion with pillars and a wrap-around porch. And for Lucy, a room of her own, with a balcony. Lucy sighed.

"I was really, really looking forward to it, Mama."

"I know, honey. I'm so sorry."

"Why can't I go on the ship, too?"

"I've already told you: it's a research vessel. Kurt and the other scientists will be working there. They only have a few cabins for visitors. Children aren't allowed on board. And it would be boring for you."

"But – "

"It's just not possible, Lucy. End of discussion. I don't want to hear another word about it. Be reasonable about this, all right? Otherwise Mama will get a headache."

Lucy said nothing. Sometimes she wished she could get headaches, too.

Over Lucy's bed hung a map of the world. She'd drawn the flight route with a red jumbo marker. From Düsseldorf over the Atlantic, straight across America to San Francisco. Lucy took the thumbtacks out of the wall. She folded up the map and cut it into tiny pieces, letting them fall into the wastepaper basket.

"Bye bye, California," she murmured.

"I'm going over to Kora's for a while, Mama."

"That's fine, honey,"  her mother called from the living room. "Take the umbrella. It looks like it could rain."

"Mmh," Lucy answered. So what? Then she'd just get wet. It hadn't been much of a summer so far. Chilly and wet. In California, no doubt, the sun was shining. Every single day.

"What?! You're not going to America? I don't believe it!" Kora's eyes were wide. "Aren't you mad? I would be so mad."

"Ohh..." Lucy grabbed some potato chips out of the giant bag propped between Kora and her on the sofa. "Mad? I don't know. I just feel empty. Like a busted balloon."

"I'd be mad," said Kora.

They kept reaching into the bag, snarfing down chips. Outside, the first drops of a heavy rain shower hit the window pane.

"I didn't bring an umbrella with me," said Lucy.

"Stay here. – So now what are you going to do when school's out?"


"You're not going to be flying off to the Wild West by yourself, are you?"

"Oh," Lucy said. "No idea. I don't know what I'm doing now."

The two friends looked at each other in silence.

"She just forgot to tell you," Kora finally said. "Right? Yeah, sure. That must be it."

"I have to be going." Lucy said.

"Yeah," Kora said. "Take my umbrella."

But the apartment door had already slammed shut behind Lucy.

She was as wet as a flounder by the time she got home.

"Oh, Lucy!" her mother said. "Go to the bathroom this instant. You're making a puddle on the wood floor. I told you to take an umbrella."

Lucy stayed right where she was. Drop by drop, the puddle was becoming a lake. "Tell me what I'M doing this summer."

Her mother closed her eyes and rubbed a hand across her forehead. "Lucy, sweetie..."

"You forgot about that, didn't you." Lucy said.

"Oh, Lucy!" said her mother loudly. "I didn't forget. I did NOT forget about it. I just haven't thought about it yet."

Lucy shook her head. She could just imagine what would happen if she ever came up with an excuse like that.



So begins The Greenest Wind – A Summer in Ireland. By Gesine Schulz. Translated by Rebecca Heier.

Anfang der Übersetzung von "Eine Tüte grüner Wind - Sommerferien in Irland" von Gesine Schulz. Übersetzt von Rebecca Heier.

©Gesine Schulz. Nachdruck und Wiedergabe in elektronischer Form nur mit schriftlicher Genehmigung der Autorin. Ausgenommen sind Schulprojekte.