I had never felt so frightened, yet at the same time I was very excited. The competition sounded very interesting and I was keen on taking part. Of course, I wanted to win first prize and to be well- known.
However, there was a problem: I didn't have any idea what to write about. I meant, what to write and how.
I wrote texts because I love to write, but I wasn't so talented nor well-read.
In spite of that, I wanted to write, to show my work. I knew I might win or lose; nevertheless, my enthusiasm was still aroused.
I needed a lot of inspiration to begin. Then I saw my blank sheet without a word, without an idea. My mind went blank and then I began to feel desperate. Soon after, I tried to concentrate on my story. As I was alone, it was easier to receive the ideas.
Whatever I wrote, it had to be something unique, special and sublime.
Then I thought of famous writers such as Poe, Allende, Rowling, etc. and as if they had revealed me magical words, I began to write. I didn't realize when it happened.
I wrote during the night because it was the right moment when I felt inspired. I sat at my desk night after night with a small lamp, my pen and a sheet.
Lonely in my room, I worked hard. Night after night, hour after hour... I went on... I mistook...I felt that delightful sensation. It didn't matter I lost. These magical moments were mine. The ink was like my blood poured on the paper and the pen was like a magic wand sliding onto the sheet. Sometimes time seemed to stop.
And I've never stopped writing since then. The deadline had come. My work was ready and I just to wait the results.
