Yesterday we have our bookclub. We meet every month to discuss a book tha we have chosen. This month was a bit special because the writer is our teacher.
She seemed very embarrased about being the star of the meeting and we dont want to make a lot of questions. Personally, I love the book, and I dedicated it a post in this blog, but I didn´t want to attack my teacher with so many questions.
We discuss about people who write books, or letters, or novels or short stories. Some of us like to write sometimes. In my case, it is more a necessity than a pleasure. I love writing as I love eating or going to the theatre. But I know I am very careless and I love writing quickly without noticing so much the style or the topic of what I am writing. I feel jealous about writers like Isabel Allende who can start a remarkable book, or at least a quite good book every year. I dont have the patiente or the inspiration. I suppose my muse gets bored when I am writing and goes away...
I made a reflection about the writer and his books. For me, when I write something I expose my feelings and my opinions, so it seems normal to have difficulties to share your work. I know some writers dont do that, but I am not a real writer. I have a student who is trying to write a novel, and he is very focus on the main character of a young woman who become widow and pregnant. Pregnant was the key word in his novel. I asked him the reason and he told me that he feels badly because he cannot have children, because he is a man. So, I reacted thinking about how many things I expouse in my post....I think many things.
But it is a pleasure to write, only for yourself, because not everyone has the neccesity of sharing his work. the word document open and you have space to reflect writing....I just love it.