Eredità

One minute that Ignacio Varga hid into the crude oil.

I hesitate to make this a sweeping statement, but I do think that to be a writer, you have to on some level love words as an artistic medium. Words can't just be the annoying limitation that make it more difficult to share your beautiful daydream. They can't just be the storytelling method you choose because you don't have the skills or resources to make any other kind of media.

9 Books for 2025

“What would he have been had it not been for the war, who would he have been if his family had not been uprooted from this fertile soil? And had he lived here from the day he was born until this moment, and if it had not been for the secrets at the foundations of his existence, which he had only recently discovered, would he have come to be engaged in writing at all? Would he have suffered this uncontrollable compulsion to seek his words in the void of the world, would he have been compelled to tell and retell his story, would he have become a writer?”

me when writing

Unfortunately, the only way to improve your writing is to write.

the charmer lifted from the nile, the one who moves god's mountains, opens his lips. he's got lyrics for the closure of his verses: "listen, heavens! let me utter things." his voice is tired, he's tired. "let my teaching drop like rain," he goes on. god's his rock, his rescuer, the father of fathers. god's hateful, churning. heaping troubles on his children, giving them the teeth of lions. he's vindicating, nonetheless. god likes these lyrics. "i'll kill you for them," he tells the charmer tenderly. lovingly. "go to nevo and there i'll kill you."