The clear things in literature

Because it is necessary to understand before doing

In literary matters, there are two kinds of individuals: those who want to be writers and those who want to write. Although there are similarities in the spelling of both words, the meaning separates them, mediating a whole continent of differences, perhaps irreconcilable. The first deals with the external, with the paraphernalia of the literary cliques, it could be said that he makes sure that everyone looks carefully at his verbal pyrotechnics, which most of the time fail to impress. The latter, meanwhile, only thinks of stealing a little time from work, family and friends. He has understood that writing, in his case, is a necessity that often cannot be postponed and not a responsibility. If he has a cell phone, he tries to download the right application to take notes before his memory betrays him. He hunts for ideas and not followers; the former are often elusive; the latter come, especially when money is involved. In short, he concentrates on getting rid of that which harasses him, of that impulse, sometimes incomprehensible, which leads him without shortcuts along the dubious path of literature. Those who want to be writers abandon themselves to their dreams, even if they turn into nightmares. They tend to slander their rivals, to set all kinds of traps for them. In front of the crowd, they monopolize the applause; and if it were up to them, they would forbid praise to those they consider upstart or too strange writers. They caress, like the head of a sleeping cat, the illusion of their own image on the flap of their first books, their first conferences, the juicy checks to come, the interviews, the awards, in short, everything for which, they say, they were born. He who wants to write, if he is not already dead, will continue his long or short journey, perhaps from some office, or from some dark corner of some forgotten city, or perhaps imprisoned, or perhaps enjoying the fruits of his labor and riding in a high-end car, but being honest, because it is inevitable, even if he wants to deceive once and a thousand times the one who appears in the mirror. The very fact of taking the pen and sticking it in the paper (allow me the anachronism), without anyone watching him, is a truth that he cannot deny, even if he tears his eyes out.