historias

-¿Te parece bonito tenerme aquí esperando?, me dijo.
Llevaba con la idea de escribir esta historia semanas pero no encontraba el momento, ni las ganas. Estaba todo en mi cabeza, el personaje, el escenario, la situación, solo faltaba ponerme delante del ordenador a teclear. Pero no fui capaz. Hasta que un día se plantó delante de mí y me espetó eso de:
-¿Te parece bonito tenerme aquí esperando?
Quien iba pensar que se me iba a aparecer mi propio personaje delante de las narices y que me iba a exigir que escribiera su maldita historia, cito textualmente, de una puta vez porque estaba hasta los cojones de esperar en el limbo. Yo seguía sin ganas pero lo cierto es que su mirada feroz, sus malas maneras y su actitud agresiva, y para que negarlo, el par de ostias que me dio, acabaron de convencerme. Y aquí estoy escribiendo una historia que hace semanas que me rondaba por la cabeza...


Inspirado por esta entrada en el blog de Neil Gaiman:

Sometimes I think that when I die, or perhaps as I am dying, I shall be confronted with my characters.

Not the ones you would expect, the ones who had their stories, but the other ones. The characters whose stories I planned to tell but never did. There was the girl who never made it into Season of Mists (was her name Carmen? I think it was) who talked about herself in the third person and described herself as "hard as effin nails", and the lonely journalist trying to investigate the Bender family in Kansas and elsewhere in the Michael Zulli Sweeney Todd story, and Jenny Kertin who is waiting for me to take her to the village of Wall and wishes I'd hurry it up...

Them, and a few dozen others, the people from the tales I never told, who have waited on the boundaries between the potential and the actual, in a ghostly limbo. They'll be so disappointed when I die. And I have no doubt I will feel guilty, for all the stories I'll never write.

Not that that'll be happening for some time to come. But I've been talking to friends of mine who are writers at the end of their lives, and it makes me think.

http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2011/02/one-of-those-slightly-random-too-long.html?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter