In the Studio

A fictional workshop conversation. The questions are put by the editors; the answers come from the author. It reveals the idea behind the book — not its ending.


EDITORS — Mr Ambach, your novel takes place almost entirely in a zoo. How does a book about self-determination end up there?

A zoo is an honest place. It shows animals behind bars and calls it protection. As I was thinking about the book, at some point I asked myself how many of our own bars we even still notice. Many people live by expectations, adopt opinions or follow paths that others have designed for them. I did exactly that for long enough myself. The zoo became an image for all of this. The question that interests me is: what happens when someone suddenly recognises the bars?

EDITORS — Why a novel and not a non-fiction book? You could have explained the subject directly.

Because stories have changed me far more throughout my life than facts. I have read many non-fiction books and heard countless clever pieces of advice. Some were technically correct and still had no effect. A good story does something different. It lets us have experiences without having to live through them ourselves. As a reader I accompany a character, fail with her, doubt with her and learn with her. That is exactly what I wanted to create. Not to convey knowledge, but to make insight possible.

EDITORS — At the centre are Maria and David. What do the two stand for?

For two phases of life that many people know. David at first takes the world as it is presented to him. Opinions, expectations, supposed truths. Maria begins to question. She asks where others look for answers. Both characters carry something of me within them. David reminds me of my younger years, Maria of many insights that only emerged through experience. That is why they are neither right nor wrong. They stand for development.

EDITORS — How strongly did your own past shape the development of the characters?

More than most readers probably suspect. As a young man I often believed I was making the right decisions, until I had to realise that I had frequently followed other people’s ideas. With financial matters in particular, that cost me a fair amount of money, time and hard lessons. David carries much of that early search for orientation. Maria, by contrast, embodies the moment when you begin to take responsibility for your own decisions. Of course both characters are independent. But their questions, doubts and development are very familiar to me personally.

EDITORS — The subtitle speaks of seeing clearly. What does seeing mean to you?

For me, seeing means recognising the difference between what is and what we are told about it. Many of my own wrong decisions arose not from ignorance, but because I trusted other people’s judgements more than my own. In hindsight, that was one of the most important lessons of my life. Seeing, for me, means regaining your own way of looking.

EDITORS — One sentence keeps appearing: „Frame before reaction.“ What does it mean?

We never react directly to the world. We react to our interpretation of the world. Between the event and our response there is always a frame made of experiences, habits, fears and convictions. Most people do not notice this frame. Whoever recognises it regains room to act. For me, that is a form of freedom.

EDITORS — You play with the idea of the hero in the book. Who is the hero here?

Probably not the hero you would expect. I am not interested in people who save the world. I am interested in people who take responsibility for their own lives. The courage to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth, or to carry a decision yourself, is often underestimated. That quiet courage fascinates me far more than any heroic tale.

EDITORS — There is a stranger in the book, an unknown figure who accompanies Maria. Without giving too much away: what role does he play?

He does something that has become rare today. He does not sell answers. He asks questions. On my own path, the most valuable people were not the ones who told me what to think, but the ones who got me to think for myself. I do not want to reveal more. Only this much: a good companion eventually makes himself unnecessary.

EDITORS — The title is Unbeeinflusst Reich. In your view, how can being uninfluenced lead to wealth?

In two ways. The first is very practical. Whenever someone goes to great lengths to influence our thinking or our actions, they usually have an interest of their own. That need not be ill-meant, but often it creates an advantage for one and a disadvantage for the other. With investments, insurance or consumer decisions in particular, a lack of independence can quickly become very expensive. Those who learn to think for themselves and to question critically often keep more of what they have earned.

The second aspect goes deeper. For me, wealth is not only money in an account. Real wealth arises when you can make decisions that match your own values, independent of other people’s expectations, opinions and outside pressures. That is why one of the book’s central messages is: true freedom does not begin in your bank account, but in your mind.

EDITORS — What should a reader take away when they close the book?

Ideally two things. First, the memory of a good story. Second, the feeling that more influence over your own life is possible than you may have thought. If, in future, a reader pauses just once before following an opinion, a recommendation or a habit, then the book has served its purpose. I do not want to convince anyone. I want to encourage people to think for themselves.