When I was a teenager, I used to write little stories on my secret notebooks just to try and unleash some of the evil hormones tormenting me. Sometimes, they were very short stories, other times ransom thoughts, or small poems (indeed I used to write what I now hate the most haha), but no matter what I wrote, it always came back to the same feeling, unleashing myself and setting me free. I never planned to become a writer, it wasn’t even on my list, my only interest was literature and finding a job where I can be payed to read a lot of books. (Never found it, moving on.)
When I understood that writing is part of my life, I wondered if I could write more than just short stories and over the years I have started at least five different novels, all of them dear to my soul, some almost finished, some with the length of only three pages; but none of them seemed to fit my standards of becoming my first novel. When my first book got published I wasn’t proud, I wasn’t happy, I only felt exposed and at the mercy of the readers – such a crazy, disturbing feeling, which I absolutely had to relive again. Anyway, that first novel was suppose to have the perfect first page, the perfect beginning and the perfect amount of everything so that it could attract the eyes of hungry readers as myself. I’ve always said that when my brain conceives that first page, I will not delay it for a second, and I will keep on writing until the final dot is placed on the page.
That first perfect page came to me a couple of days ago and when I realized that that was to be the one, I remembered my promise and got immediately to work, fearing that if I will stop, it will move on to the next writer who searched for his first perfect page for years. So, I guess my days look kind of weird and crazy from the outside, teaching classes almost everyday, playing and staying with Ephia as much as possible, pretending to be a good wife (haha), sending out emails, writing articles, working on journalistic projects and then when the lights turn off all over Florence, writing my first novel. I think I asked this before in another entry, but I will try again: Does anyone know any black market where they sell a little extra time? If you do hear anything about it, let me know, I will join you.