29 de octubre de 2011


I began to realize how simple life could be if one had a regular routine to follow with fixed hours and a fixed salary and very little original thinking to do. The life of a writer is absolute hell compared with the life of a businessman. The writer has to force himself to work. He has to make his own hours and if he doesn't go to his desk at all there is nobody to scold him. If he is a writer of fiction he lives in a world of fear. Each new day demands new ideas and he can never be sure wheter he is going to come up with them or not. Two hours of writing fiction leaves this particular writer absolutely drained.

Boy Tales of Childhood by Roald Dahl

El texto continua pero me quiero quedar con ésto. Con la vocación, con el elegir un camino más sinuoso pero no menos reconfortante sólo por amor a lo que se hace.

* Se hace camino al andar*

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