One of the things that make me cringe a bit is the fact that I will never be a serious writer, or well, a memoirist or a novelist. Whenever I come back to my dusty old blog and revisit some of the stories that have been left in the backburner, all I can think of is, why did I leave it for so long? The answer to this question is that I somehow relegate or simply prioritize other things before writing [a big proof of that is the one full year it took me to publish my master's research article]. The willingness to write again came to me just a few days ago, when I finished reading Lena Durham's "Not that kind of girl" and besides the obvious - identifying myself with the bunch of "very prevalent" health issues, such as endometriosis and therapy - I was dying of envy because this chick is in her twenties and she has written, directed and furthermore, made herself famous publishing something that I feel so familiar with. Not only she has done it in a way that I consider as somehow intellectual, but damn! She has good memory and attention to details! I could never remember with such a careful detail those incidents from my childhood, teen years, etc that have brought me to where I am today, neither I would have all the myriad of fancy words to describe them (not even in Spanish, dear friends). And above all, how would I be able to organize my chapters? [if I were to write a semi-memoir/girly novel].
The one thing I remember very well is that once, I dreamed about writing, and I do have a love of books, nevertheless, whenever people ask me about my favorites and what kind of books have influenced me, I just put this ? on my face. I know [just like Lena], I started asking my dad for very weird things since I was a child. I know that he would treat me like a little adult [except for love/relationships/boys matters], fuck! I just remembered (thanks to a bus poster) that I read King Lear when I was like 12! Yeah, just after reading the diary of Anne Frank, and all because it was sitting there in my house and I was looking for something to read. Not only that, but I remember myself telling my dad that it reminded me a bit of his side of the family (tough I know). Anyways, books have been a part of me and I've been a part of my books. I even used to come up with my own dialogues, stories among characters I would invent for my drawings [and no, I don't remember exactly what that would be about], a blurry memory is that, sometimes I would talk to myself. One time, my dad told me I could be a writer and I was ecstatic :D
Now, I realize that just like Lena, I tend to be self involved and always turn things into my own story but maybe most of us do. And by most, I am not referring to women only, to those girls who were not the popular ones in school, I am talking about these very prevalent issues that one can be identified with because, well just because they are there and they are part of our lives.
Just like this post, I have ideas, how I could expand my anecdotes into post entries, how I could set up a collection on them. Maybe even better, making a combination of my diary entries with this place, just making it a backup to my memories, just in case, one day I decide to write.
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