Since I moved back to the country house, I have had no time for anything but cleaning and organizing. Today I finally decided to sit down on the balcony with a book and a cup of coffee. I have been devouring English books since July and I thought it was time for Jiménez Lozano’s last work, «Retorno de un Cruzado», a long-postponed reading. I could not focus on it. Maybe it was time for writing, for starting the new project I have been thinking of for the last past months. Although writing a book in English is as bold and insane as climbing Everest, I keep brooding over it. If I decide to embark on this audacious journey, my poor brains will be racketed with foreign words, with frustration and sorrowful music. A dreadful creature will constantly whisper in my ears perturbing and dishearting words to ruin my hopes and confidence. Moreover, its ghast shadow will be casted over me to infect me with doubts and fears. I might be a lunatic, but unsettling jobs can be as encouraging as sunny mornings after stormy nights. The sounds and scents of thrill, the colors of adventure, the velvet light of dreams inflame inspiration and make life much more interesting.


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