not usually write on Saturdays or Sundays. It is customary to impose me to depart from the imaginary world that a healthy habit for many hours from Monday to Friday, and unless you're traveling or have a commitment that prevents me from my notebooks inclinarne on weekdays, Saturdays and Sundays I leave fiction side. I recognize that sometimes it's a relief to reach the end of the week and folded sails until Monday, but sometimes, when you wake up on Saturday or Sunday you feel strange, and sometimes you fight the temptation to sit in the office to play "Imagine that ...". 
This weekend has been one of those. After exactly one year ago tomorrow I started writing my latest novel, and rolled up to the elbows with the last chapter that I am, if there is a catastrophe by - fingers crossed - , will be finished, raw, for next Friday, or maybe on Monday or Tuesday of next week. Then there is still much work ahead - although correct, polishing or darning paragraphs when you reached the end of history rather relaxes me - , but to be nearing completion a novel that has occupied nearly every day for the last twelve months ending pushing you to change your habits, as a temptation uncomfortable for someone who blindly believes in the discipline. So yesterday and today I had a hard time not sitting down for some progress in the completion of my novel. I stop to think and I'm not sure if on the one hand I refuse to wait a few days to write the final, while the other just the opposite happens to me, and I do not want is to stop living with characters who are both time with me.
www.facebook.com/pages/Andrés-Pérez-Domínguez/272070026881 2011 ©
© Andrés Pérez Domínguez, May 2011
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