Writing...

I've just found out that I need to write. Kind of courious, because I always write. I never thought this was a survival need, but I have just realize it. The days I don't write I feel sad. I just don't know yet if I wish to be read. Well, I guess I do.

I failed miserably on the NaNoWri effort to write 50.000 words in November. I've written only 6.800. I knew I would failed. I had classes for two weeks in November which left me with no time besides working, feeding the dogs, managing my life and going to classes (i can't say I'm studying!). But I'm not worry. 6.800 words is a lot already and I'll keep writing. Right now, Joaquina is almost giving birth to Afonso, I have started on telling Eulália's motivations to life, Borba Aragão is on standby, and I need to start working with Eunice.

As many doubts come to me, like why am I writing a story that starts on Portugal in 1828, I know nothing about Portugal or habits in 1828, I keep the faith I can do it, somehow.