Asa mi-a strafulgerat acum cateva zile, cand mi-am dat seama ca toate 'tampeniile' pe care colegii mei le-au scris, le pot (cu usurinta) aduce la scoala si posta ca 'work'. Eu nu, pentru ca tampeniile mele sunt scrise intr-o limba pe care profesoara s-ar putea sa nu o inteleaga... Ca sa nu mai zic ca's singura persoana din clasa pentru care engleza nu e prima limba. I.E.I.
Dar apoi, cum sa scriu 'strafulgera' in engleza?
Sunt eu frustrata sau ce?
Oricum, mi-am propus asta. Asa ca, daca o sa-mi iasa (desi am gradul meu ridicat de indoiala) va deveni un blog destul de idiot, arid si bajbait, cel putin pentru urmatorul an. Dupa care, poate...
Anyway, o sa incep cu experienta de la primul curs. Iar acum, gandul ca tre' sa scriu in engleza m-a transpirat. Again. Se pare ca nu sunt inca decisa daca sunt pregatita sa fac masterul asta sau nu. Putin cam tarziu, trebuie sa recunosc, dupa ce mi-am platit taxa si am primit cardul de student (cu o poza destul de dubioasa). Here we go!
As everything starts on Monday, this Monday I had my first class. And as I still don't know the deal with trains between London and Cambridge, but I have to make this trip twice a week, I've arrived in Cambridge way too early. I bought a coffee, visited my favourite shops around, but I still had enough time left to spend. So I went to the university cafeteria, looking for a free hidden table, to sit and read some more. I kinda have a lotta books to read... The place was crowded, but I managed to see a table almost empty. Well, almost, as there was this guy reading the same book I had in my purse. It was Sam, one of my colleagues, one of the first two colleagues I met in the opening day. I said 'hi' and joined him. We sit there reading the same book, without actually talking for about 45 minutes, till our class started.
The room was a small but nice one and me and Sam were the last two to arrive. I looked around and saw all kind of faces, friendly most of all, gathered around our beautiful genuine teacher, Laura.
I never felt more relaxed and less in school. The two-hour class was more of a talk. I didn't write more than three lines in my new notebook, but I found a bunch of people having the same thoughts, ideas, frustration, eager and believes as I do. That was the first time to experience something close to what could have been a meeting with future writers and it made me feel that I - somehow - belong.
The main discussion was about what is a novel and how can u tell a novel from anything else. Of course, the talk went on and on on different topics, the opinion each of us had was different but somehow reached to the others's somewhere on the path. Two hours flew in an instant and that made me believe that I made the right decision choosing a master in creative writing and not in drama.
Now I'm searching in all hidden little corners of my brain for the plot for my first novel, and though I have some ideas, I still didn't decide the subject of my freaking (or should I say bloody) first book. But I certainly know is going to be the first and not the only. That for sure.
Hm, well, I didn't have to use the dictionary to write this tiny thoughts in my mind, but again, don't we all know they have no salt and pepper?
It doesn't matter, I don't really expect for anyone to read it, as I wouldn't, but if anyone does, just bear with me, it will get better. :D