On (my) writing I

This very morning I have started taking lessons for C2 level in English Language.

I’m a bad student. I dislike both studying or attending to class. I’m also afraid of my being too old a dog (I’m 58, remember?) to learn new tricks or too proud to allow anyone to teach me them. But I’ve set my mind on learning how to trick –again– the demons of my caprices, on mastering my tendency to indolence; and I’ve also set my mind on proving myself I can finish the school year, even though I have no intention of sitting for the final Cambridge C2 English Language texts (I don’t need the official paper and I’m short of money).

To practice my writing in English, I’m going to give a try to reflect my thoughts on creative writing. My technique will be: typing my ideas, correcting the grammar by myself without any corrector and, finally, posting the text in this blog. For the moment, these posts won’t accept commentaries, as they would have to be in English.

 “Narcissus at the Spring” by Jan Roos

On (my) writing I

A few days back, at a meeting of amateur writers, I found myself in a concatenation of uncomfortable situations. Such as having to clarify that, consciously, literary authors usually get ride of our gender when we write our texts, without having to do with whether they are written as fiction, essay or poetry. Or having to make it clear that conscious “leism” (I’ve made up this word, as I can’t think of an English expression for the Spanish “leismo”) is not a smart way to combat sexism, but rather a vulgar expression of ones lack of culture.

To sum up: I made my point at the importance of the conscious process in writing on the unconscious. Even though I define my writing as an act of possession where the unconscious puts his ideas down, if I define myself as a writer it’s because my conscience skills channel that expressive torrent into a creative flow.

Thanks for your resourceful company, creative reader.

340 words.