So excited about this!
David Tennant will record an adaptation of the Daniel Glattauer novel Love Virtually along with Emilia Fox for BBC Radio 4.
The production will be broadcast as the Afternoon Play on Thursday 8th March at 2.15pm.
From the official Press Release:
Have you ever just clicked with someone . . . ?
It begins by chance: Leo receives emails in error from an unknown woman called Emmi. Being polite he replies, and Emmi writes back.
A few brief exchanges are all it takes to spark a mutual interest in each other, and soon Emmi and Leo are sharing their innermost secrets and longings.
The erotic tension simmers, and, despite Emmi being happily married it seems only a matter of time before they will meet in person.
Will their feelings for each other survive the test of a real-life encounter?
And if so, what then?
Glattauer was born in Vienna and still lives and works in the city. Love Virtually sold over two million copies in Germany.
Reviews following the release of the English translation:
“Just what you need” Wendy Holden
“An ingenious tightly plotted suspense story. As with a thriller, there is pleasure to be had here in trying to predict the turn of events” Times Literary Supplement
“I couldn’t put it down” Time Out
“The end is as unexpected as it is inevitable. The book is translated from German, but the whole thing is tout à fait” Guardian
“This was a massive, million-plus bestseller in Glattauer’s native Germany, and it’s easy to see why. Short, striking and snappily written, it explores the brilliant premise of love by accidental e-mail” Daily Mirror
“A modern romance that feels both fresh and traditional” Sunday Times
“Read it, you won’t be disappointed” vulpes libris
Head on over to David Tennant News to read more.
Funny, fast-paced and utterly absorbing… the Internet is buzzing with reviews of the most romantic and compelling book around.
We think those of you who’ve loved One Day or thrilled to Audrey Niffenegger will adore Love Virtually, but don’t just take our word for it…
The bloggers have been all over Daniel Glattauer’s novel, with this from activagers doing a fabulous job of summing it up:
“Every now and then a book comes along that covers the age old story of forbidden love in a different way. Love Virtually is one of those books… this book has a haunting quality to it… cleverly written… This book is also an intriguing insight into how people can create strong relationships, be they friendship or romantic, via the Internet without ever meeting.”
That is probably my favourite blog review, but we’ve had amazingly warm words coming from: davidhblog, Winston’s Dad, Love German Books, Lovereading, NewBooks Magazine, Socioemo, Vulpes Libris, FemaleFirst, Beautyisasleepingcat, ReadItSwapIt Forums, British-German Association, The Clock Monkey and bookmonkeyscribbles.
Huge thanks to all those bloggers who’ve taken the time to review a book that has charmed all of us here at Q-HQ.
Oh, and if you know of any other blog reviews that I’ve missed out in this list, please tell me in the comments! Thanks so much.
As we are already tweeting the first chapter from @LoveVirtually, we have asked the translators to select a favourite passage from the text. This extract is taken from Chapter Three.
Subject: A bad day
Dear Leo,
Did you have a good day today? Mine was awful. Good evening, goodnight.
Emmi
(By the way, when you think of Emmi now, which Emmi comes to mind? I hope you are still thinking of Emmi!)
Three and a half hours later
Re:
When I think of Emmi, I don’t think of any of the three Emmis described by my sister, but of the fourth one, my one. And yes, of course I’m still thinking about Emmi. Whydidn’t you have a good day? What was so awful about it? Goodnight, good morning.
Yours,
Leo
The following day
Subject: A good day!
Good morning. So you see, dear Leo, this is how a good day begins for me! I open my inbox and find a message from Leo Leike. Yesterday: bad day. No e-mail from Leo. Not one. Not a single one. Not even a hint of one. What promise does a day like that hold? Leo, I need to tell you something: I think we should stop. I’m beginning to get addicted to you. I can’t spend my entire day waiting for e-mails from a man who turns his back on me when he meets me, who doesn’t want to get to know me, who only wants me to e-mail him, who uses my words to construct a woman of his own making, because the presence of real women probably pushes him way beyond his comfort level. I can’t go on like this. It’s unrewarding. Do you understand me, Leo?
Two hours later
Re:
O.K., I understand you. But I’ve got four questions, which I shall set out strictly in accordance with the Rothner formula:
1) Do you want to get to know me in person?
2) Why?
3) Where will it lead?
4) Should your husband know about it?
Half an hour later
Re:
Re: 1) Do I want to get to know you in person? Of course I do. Personally is preferable to impersonally, don’t you think?
Re: 2) Why? I’ll only know the answer to that when we’ve got to know each other.
Re: 3) Where will it lead? It will lead to wherever it leads. And if it didn’t lead there, then it shouldn’t. So it will only lead to where it should lead.
Re: 4) Should my husband know about it? I’ll only know the answer to that when I know where it’s leading.
Five minutes later
Re:
So would you cheat on your husband?
One minute later
Re:
That’s not what I said.
Forty seconds later
Re:
I’m inferring it.
Thirty-five seconds later
Re:
Be careful that you don’t infer too much.
Two minutes later
Re:
What is it your husband can’t give you?
Fifteen seconds later
Re:
Nothing. Nothing whatsoever. What gives you the impression there’s something he can’t give me?
Fifty seconds later
Re:
I’m inferring it.
Thirty seconds later
Re:
From what are you inferring it? (You’re beginning to get on my nerves with your language psychologist’s inference.)
Ten minutes later
Re:
I’m inferring it from the way you lead me to understand that you want something from me. You won’t be able to say what it is until we’ve met. But there’s no doubt that you do want something from me. Or put another way: you’re looking for something. Let’s call it adventure. Those who go looking for adventure never find it. Am I right?
An hour and a half later
Re:
You’re right, I am looking for something. I desperately need a priest to explain to me the definition of cheating on your husband. Or at least what a priest might imagine it to be, a priest who has never cheated, not only because he doesn’t have a woman to cheat with, but also because he doesn’t have a wife to cheat on, except for the Virgin Mary herself. This isn’t The Thorn Birds, Leo! I’m not looking for “adventure” with you. I want to see who you are, that’s all. Just once I want to look my e-mail buddy in the eye. If that’s what you call “cheating”, then I admit that I might well be a cheat.
Twenty minutes later
Re:
But just to be sure, you wouldn’t tell your husband anything.
Fifteen minutes later
Re:
Leo, I don’t like it when you come over all priggish! You’re welcome to go on like that when it concerns your own affairs, but not when it comes to mine. Being happily married doesn’t mean that you have to deliver a daily report of all the people you meet. If I did that, I’d bore Bernhard to tears.
Two minutes later
Re:
So you’d say nothing to your Bernhard about our meeting because you’re afraid it would bore him to tears?
Three minutes later
Re:
Oh, the way you write “your Bernhard”, Leo! I can’t help it that my husband has a name. But that doesn’t mean that he belongs to me, or that he’s glued to my side 24/7 with me endlessly cooing “My Bernhard!” and my hands all over him. I don’t think you have the faintest idea about marriage, Leo.
Five minutes later
Re:
I’ve not said a word about marriage, Emmi. And you still haven’t answered my last question. But how did you put it recently? An evasive answer is an answer nonetheless.
Ten minutes later
Re:
Dear Leo,
Let’s draw a line under this. You’re the one who owes me an answer to my crucial question, which I’m happy to repeat for you: Do you want to meet me? If the answer’s yes, then let’s do it! If the answer’s no, then please tell me what all this is about, how should it carry on? Or rather, should it carry on at all?
Twenty minutes later
Re:
Why can’t we just carry on writing to each other?
Two minutes later
Re:
I don’t get it: he just doesn’t want to get to know me! You’re such a fuddy-duddy, Leo. Maybe I’m the blonde with the large breasts!!!
Thirty seconds later
Re:
So?
Twenty seconds later
Re:
You could ogle them.
Thirty-five seconds later
Re:
And you’d like that, would you?
Twenty-five seconds later
Re:
Not me, you! All men like it, especially the ones who don’t admit it.
Fifty seconds later
Re:
I much prefer these sorts of conversations.
Thirty seconds later
Re:
Aha! So you’re a repressed sex-chat addict after all.
Three minutes later
Re:
That was a good one to end on, Emmi. Sorry, I’ve got to go out now. I hope you have a nice evening.
Four minutes later
Re:
Twenty-eight e-mails between us today, Leo. And where have they got us? Nowhere. What’s your mantra? – detachment. What’s your parting shot? – you hope that I “have a nice evening”. That’s in “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Emmi Rothner” territory. To
sum up, after a hundred e-mails and a professionally executed meeting-without-actually-meeting, we’re not a millimetre closer. The only thing sustaining our “inner nonacquaintance” is the staggering effort we devote to it. Leo. Leo. Leo. What a shame, what a terrible shame.
One minute later
Re:
If a day goes by when I don’t e-mail you, you complain. And if I send you fourteen e-mails in five hours, you still complain. I don’t seem to be able to do right by you at the moment, Emmi.
Twenty seconds later
Re:
Not by e-mail at any rate!!! I hope you have a nice evening, Mr Leike.
If you are anywhere near a radio this afternoon, then please do make sure you tune into Radio 4′s Afternoon Play at 2.15pm, which is adapted from the novel, Love Virtually, by Austrian writer Daniel Glattauer.
Really excited to report that David Tennant is to be appearing in the BBC Radio 4 Production of 
