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Michael Pruchnie

Michael’s character is very quiet, deep thinking and reserved although he has learned to mask this intrinsic character well over the years but he has developed another face that masks this internalisation.

My Wonderful Life

My Wonderful Life

My Wonderful Life

Drama

My Wonderful Life started out going to be a book of memoirs but when I started to plan out the structure I realised I had amassed many intriguing stories and sub plots of my life and my work experiences. 

Having spent a lot of time working in Russia and all those oil rich countries where business deals are sometimes shady to say the least, I decided to put pen to paper and retell many of these intriguing stories of life as an entrepreneur. 

Divided into over 20 mini stories this book is more than a reflection on my life it is a reflection of how business is carried out when the stakes are high and ethics are low.

 

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Trip on Trans-Siberian Express across West to East

Michael Pruchnie Trip to Baikal on the Trans Siberian Express

“If I do not go now, I will never go”

This was my feeling from about October 2021 until I actually got on the plane. In retrospect it was a deep feeling based on my health and age but also,
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Introduction and background notes:

Although I had lived in and travelled throughout Russia for over 20 years, this was a trip which I had always wanted to take but never had the time or
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The Flight to Moscow:

28th January 2022 I checked in the for the flight early as always seat already reserved and visa checked and approved as well as the vaccination certificates. So, I was
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Upcoming Event

Launch

JULY 23, 2020 – BOOK CENTER – 10:00, 15:30

First edition planned for release to family and friends, public release is due shortly.

A Wonderful Life by Michael Pruchnie

Extract

It was surreal, we were in a warehouse in an industrial area. It was pitch black apart from the light shining in our eyes and the light from the end of a cigar smoked by the man who was speaking. The smell was overpowering — hydrocarbons and solvents hung in the air, as if the extraction if there was any, was switched off. It was even distressing for me and I was used to the oppressive smell, but the others were finding it difficult to breathe. Outside, it was minus 30°C, inside even colder, but not just because of the temperature — it was the threatening looks of the Russians surrounding us with their black leather jackets and turtle-neck sweaters.

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