(...) i began to realize how simple life could be if one had a regular routine to follow with fixed hours and 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 whether he is going to come up with them or not. two hours of writing fiction leaves this particular writer absolutely drained. for those two hours he has been miles away, he has been somewhere else, in a different place with totally different people, and the effort of swimming back into normal surroundings is very great. it is almost a shock. the writer walks out of his workroom in a daze. he wants a drink. he needs it. it happens to be a fact that nearly every writer of fiction in the world drinks more whisky than is good for him. he does it to give himself faith, hope and courage. a person is a fool to become a writer. his only compensation is absolute freedom. he has no master except his own soul, and that, i am sure, is why he does it. -Roald Dahl
good book.
como terminé con el juguete rabioso tenía que empezar otro libro, no sea (oh! desgracia!) que me quede con solo dos libros para leer.
empecé a leer un libro que se llama historia argentina con drama y humor, porque hace mucho que vivo en este país de locos que viven, sufren, matan y lloran por una historia que (y lo digo con vergüencita) no conozco… qué hizo cada hombre o mujer que ahora es el nombre de una calle (frase trillada si las hay): no tengo idea.
entonces ése es mi objetivo: averiguarlo.
por otra parte, tengo bastante abandonado el príncipe de maquiavelo por razones prácticas, lo estaba leyendo en la compu pero me quedo ciega, así que lo continuaré cuando lo tenga en versión papel, lo cual espero sea pronto.
con the beach me enfermé mal, al punto de querer encontrar la playa en el mapa. need i say more?
y luego, como un alumno me pidió que le recomiende un librito para leer en su viaje, encontré en el instituto un libro autobiográfico de roald dahl que se llama boy (tales of childhood) y por ahora parece lindo, rápido de leer, infantil (pero bien), así que me parece que we have a winner… recomendable (no lo terminé todavía, obvio, pero va bien)
