The central chapter was about a formal ball.
Millions of interactions happened. The chapter is 100 pages long.
Well, 99. If each page is calculated as consisting of 392 words.
There is one very important chapter left to write. I already have the structure, the first draft. But there is a transition chapter that must come first (unwritten). And a side chapter that is almost completely written (events that run parallel to the major chapter). Finally I'll have to write a final brief chapter that ends the blockbuster.
This novel has already changed me. I had no idea it was possible to write such a story. It's my War and Peace.
Since April of this year I have been writing everyday. Even if it was just tweaking (endless), going back to previous pages and adding or polishing.
I've changed the Title. It's more poetic now.
Just two words.
Top Secret.
(No, that's not it, hahahaha.)
In my book of poems, Torbellinos en lo claroscuro (Whirlwinds in the Half-Light), in a poem entitled Aphorisms, it says: "I write because my life depends on it".
Working on my novel has kept me sane. I go to bed happy.
It's my window on the marvelous world of the mind's creation. Oh enthralling paradox: my daily life of unremitting solitude and silence, advancing decadence (I mean in the sense of physical decrepitude, old age), broken dreams and failures that put paid to every material project I ever dreamt of achieving ... being a LOSER pushed me to my SEIN u. DASEIN.
What that is, God and my angels know.
I'm a writer of fiction. I can say it now with 100% ownership.
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Emotional _and_ psychological truth.
Thank you for reading. Even if you are probably a surveillance bot.
TO THE REAL AND BEAUTIFUL HUMANS:
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Little boy helps to sweep away the mud flood that wreaked havoc in several towns and cities south of Valencia.
Have a good rest of the week.
👫👫👩👪👪👴👵👵👵👧👧👦👯👼👼
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