CLOSING IN 2010, WHICH ENDS IN HOT A well-known and letters colleague reminded me that the blog was quite abandoned. And he's right man. Of course, as I am a woman but, above all, hysteria, and many other things vueltera most pathological, I do not say that (that's right) and yes I will give several excuses why-he-a-ban-do-na-do-a-po-co-el-blog.
My first and most important excuse is that this year, last year also, shit, I have worked. That may not sound like an excuse themselves, but know that the status of work I've always been on the side. I know what it is looking for work, I know what not having a job, but had little idea of \u200b\u200bwhat was working. Second
excuses part of this work has been written, and very much-and, therefore, when I finish writing what I do I have to write I have no other writing here, which is as an elective, right?
And the third and wonderful excuse for me to work + writing resulted in = novel. I have written a novel. I, VS, I've fictionalized. After years and years of stories in which I thought the novel was for me like the Holy Grail for the Crusaders, which would never reach, who was always a little further, finally discovered the secret, revealed structures dominates the art.
I fictionalized.
long believed and felt that day indicated the novel ripen and fall into me that apple tree. And it was. There was no need to force anything, it was necessary to make sacrifices or torture me or lock me in a psychiatric literature to come out. Arrived. As the years go or children. And this process
create a novel, a history of more than twenty pages, with more than two characters, I was downright fascinating. And that's why I write, of course.
I began to create characters and put them in one place. The first destination (school library) did not work. The moved to a beach I know. I thanked him and moved on. And then I set about assembling the story as a castle with rastis weapon, bricks after bricks. No compass, no cement, no tools, no planes. And there was none of that, every time I build a wall, the other three came down. So I braked and I considered building where he was, where wanted to go and how will you get from point A to point B.
This had to know my characters. X What motivated them to do so, to say that another? Why act like you did? It's easy to say, "this character is locked for years in prison and when he escapes is rich and takes revenge on everyone who got screwed." But to write "The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas created a Edmond Dantes who has his own ideas, dreams, goals, prejudices, passions. And he had to get everything that makes this character is logical and plausible although the story is absolutely illogical and incredible (which is not the case here.)
For Of course not compare myself to Dumas. My novel is small, a grain of sand next to all these other novels. But finally I could write. And the story that I finished writing seemed very little to which he had originally thought. Some characters betrayed me and made their way and had no choice but to go along. As to the insane.
This novel is now in the hands of a publisher and I tremble every day for his luck. Will you publish? Does anyone read it? Does anyone like it? Have I done right?
While waiting for his fate, another story begins to nest in my head. Call me. And I know it will be another novel. What's a girl and a boy and background, the European War. The rest is to let the words take me.
And as if this were not enough, in April I have to submit a novel to a publisher, and in May another to another. I dreamed all this way to write, finally begins to come true: they ask me books that come to my door. Instead of being always me who takes calls, requests, let original call time.
But I'm still here. And I will not leave the blog, because much of what I got I got here, with you reading my past.
And if I write can come and slap little slow. Or better, can serve a mate as I write (warm and sweet).
I'm writing.
