viernes, 5 de febrero de 2016


Small Lourdes says to write me released. That purifies. And you're wondering what drives someone to write. And I can not agree more about it and I've often wondered why so much of myself, as my favorite writers, among whom she is includes-.
I wrote According to my memory allows me remember- awkward for the first time as twelve, thirteen years old. I started writing for love, as many others. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my short life then appeared in a scene so far remember perfectly and forever changed all I am. And the first thing I did was for her a poem. Now that I think about it, maybe he had written before, but that was lost in the intricacies of what is not can never tell because although I keep this, my first poem, is not the original but a well-preserved copy all the above and will have ceased to exist long enough and no memories for me, although if any could the people who knew me at such a young age and is not yet dead-people who most likely will not see again anymore -.
I once took a course but not ended. I have been self taught practically all my life, so I do not have a clear idea of ​​what I write and how I make my stories. I began, indeed, as a poet, and although I have been improving over the years (that first little poem sucks, but not without value as a starting point and comparison) and I've learned a few things thanks mainly to the blessed internet , I still have a very clear idea of ​​how I write. I only know that I write because I like. Because, as mentioned Lulu frees me. It's like suddenly I locked up in a cage and they were leaving me out of it slowly. Every sentence, every word flies as is reflected. I have no discipline forged so many stories are, first, incomplete, and I accommodating as ideas flow. So that I have three "novels" and a host of unfinished stories.
The original muse that would provide primary spark needed to avocarme the writer, long ago faded. Countless muses have happened in the heart of the amateur and amateur pseudoescritor over the years, and all have started some of the verses and some of the most beautiful prose I have done. Because, to be honest, I suddenly do not go bad, hahaha ... And the best proof that at least some have done well is to have heard, many years ago, a little poem that I called "dew," declaimed by a girl who read a fanzine called "resistance", created by students from various disciplines in the now defunct ENEP Aragon (extinct for me because later became the FES Aragón). Without knowing what memorize: he had simply liked and I was fortunate to hear it accidentally when we partner with other facilities where the time the fanzine was written. Upon learning that I was the author of something that had touched her heart, she thanked me deeply. And from that time, from time to time, I receive the congratulations have encouraged me to keep going, though, I must say, writing for the mere fact of taking those letters d and my head and gives me a infinite satisfaction.
In another chance to win in the only contest that had participated, an honorable mention. And I can not feel me proud because it ensured that my story, a short story, was included in the compendium of the contest was published. Whatever happens, there will forever be a story of mine and published in the Autonomous Metropolitan University, Alma mater of my professional training.
Another was to have the honor of being a writer whom I admire would read one of my writings and has said something about it. That encouraged me a lot. And I hope read what my eternal form highly prized writer Lulu follow unleashing on paper and virtually ...
But as I mentioned, I still do not understand exactly what I have done well to write, those little details are what motivate me know that at least several people have been touched by what I have expressed in letters.
I live and work in a job for which I write is irrelevant: the vast majority of those who could read my writings do not have the slightest interest or just pretend they do not actually read a bit. And I know people who have been readers accomplices of my stories and poems have commented and grateful I do.
I write what my heart desires. Well I can make a sonnet, trying to keep the metric in the whole form or I can get out of my comfort zone and write something erotic trying to emulate the simplicity of Lulu or horror tales as H. P. Lovecraft, one of my favorites. Or return what has been learned by the great Dante Alighieri and continue learning from him. I have had such influence any number of writers from those whom many consider the best of the best to those who absolutely despises most. Names like Stephen King, Mario Benedetti, Pablo Neruda, Cervantes Natalia, Lulu Petite, Thomas and Robert Harris. I have taken them many things. I love reading and someday hope to write a bit of each but already with my own style. And with a well defined personality, who can understand and say it is totally mine.
I hope soon to become more solid foundation. But in the meantime, anyone who ever read some of my property, whether a poem, a story, a novel, thought or reflection: THANKS. I will try: I will write more, it's a promise. And I hope you continue to enjoy what I enjoy both step and touch their souls and hearts. And I read nevertheless. It is to all those who, in the end, I must. Thanks again and we read us here ...

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