Last year I signed up for the slice of life story challenge, and on day two I have to quit since my dad got really sick and I had to fly to Chile and stay with him. I didn’t have time or a state of mind to do the challenge, let alone to even connect to the internet.
Last October, I joined a face to face writing club in my little town here in Spain. We meet every Thursday. Maria, our mentor, gives us each week really serious and entertaining writing assignments that we have to bring back the following Thursday. Participants are very warm and talented writers from all ways of life, all from Spain. They know each other for more than eight years, but they welcomed me in a heart beat as “la chilena”. I love my workshop, and as Maria always says, Thursday is my favorite day of the week, since I get to attend it. We also have a whatsapp group where Maria makes sure to encourage us to write, to check her blog, and keep it up. In that chat we share also anything related with reading and writing and some nerdy jokes. Once in a while, some of the participants arrive to the workshop with nothing written for that week, since they didn’t have time. I understand them, but I also know that writing, as anything else, requires discipline and practice. I set my mind to always make an effort to show up with something, even if it’s not that good. They have to endure listening to it, though.
Yesterday, been Thursday and the last day of February, we didn’t meet. On a day like this in 1980, the Andalusian electorate voted to make Andalusia an autonomous community of Spain, and from that year on, every February 28th, Andalusia celebrates its day, Día de Andalucía (“Andalusia Day”) and is a holiday. I work at home and for a US market, so my morning was the same as usual. But it was sunny and warm outside. Around 5 pm. I decided to grab my bike and go for a ride around the countryside. I didn’t see too many people, just a handful of goat keepers. When I was in the middle of nowhere and with an only general idea of where I was at, I found a wagon full of people. They were singing and drinking, and they thought that it was very funny that I passed them in my bike. When I see a slice of life of other people or interesting landscapes, I post them in my story on Instagram. Biking always helps me to get rid of bad vibes, to think, to get inspired, and when is a boring and not dangerous ride, to listen to an audiobook. By the way, yesterday I started listening to Sonia Sotomayor´s memoir My Beloved World, but that´s another story.
Somehow in January, I remember the Slice of Life Story Challenge and thought I should do it this year. I have two blogs, one in English, and one in Spanish. In the English one I haven’t published anything since August 2018! The Spanish one is not too much better, November 2018 is the last post, but in my defense, I have to say that I have 41 drafts waiting for me to press the publish button. I am not kidding when I say that writing is like getting naked little by little. Probably when I die, my children will find these treasured drafts and they will start eventually to understand their mother in a deeper level hahaha.
Writing in English is a challenge for me. I have to think twice, and it takes me much longer than to write in Spanish. My vocabulary is much more simplistic and dull, and I commit tons of mistakes. My daughter always laugh at my English, even though she likes it and think it’s cute, especially when I speak. Nonetheless, I am up for the challenge, and I am happy that March is here!