Alba Pratalia is the elusive author behind a string of absurd, biting, and grotesquely elegant stories and novels that dance between high literature and utter depravity. She has never made a public appearance, refuses interviews, and avoids photographs.

Pratalia identifies as Pepito, Hemingway’s parrot, claiming that all her works are dictated in a voice halfway between cigar smoke and post-war trauma.

According to the only official bio she’s ever allowed:

“I was born in a bar fight in Pamplona, raised on absinthe and polysemy. I peck at typewriter keys. I quote better than I think. I write so I don't have to scream.”

Her books are known for blending classic narrative structure with full-frontal satire, and her characters range from the blissfully deranged to the exquisitely perverse. Each story is a middle finger to genre boundaries, a toast to contradictions, and a love letter to chaos.

We manage her account and upload the books on her behalf