W riting a novel is still very new to me. The experience turned out to be much more enjoyable than I expected. It’s a bit hard to explain but the world of the novel really starts to become real. The more you write, the more you want to write. It’s like every word on the page makes the story you are telling more real. The characters are alive, you can smell their homes, you can almost touch them, and only you know about them. You want other people to know about them too, and because of that, you must write. At least the first draft (the part I’m at) is all fun. I’m not worried about how sentences are formed, grammar or even if the story makes sense to the reader. All I’m worried is to tell the story.
It’s being so much fun. Sometimes I wish I had more time to write but then I think, maybe is the day to day, the time that is passing, that is allowing the story to grow on me. Writing a bit everyday leaves room for creativity to renew. I’m so grateful to have found another passion, something so special to do. In a way, it feels even better than doing my artwork, it’s freer, less judgmental, it comes easy to me while with my artwork, it’s like a fight everyday to get what I imagine in the paper. I can’t wait to combine both worlds, to illustrate something for the book. Life feels pretty good when I’m lost in my craft. I wish for everyone to find something they love to do, there is no greater fun.
Thanks for reading.