ariadnem: (wrtng)
I'm not that sure whether this is a step to something else or what, but the book is out and I'm thrilled.

So, here it is: "Cantata en varias voces". By the students of the creative writing workshops at Yurupary, Cultural Academy.



Oh yeah, that's my name ^^




* * *


And...on a very important note for me today, [livejournal.com profile] didio's procedure went fine. Thank God! Now I need her to recover like now! I've got to call her this weekend and hear for myself that's she's fine *.*
ariadnem: (vdance)
Cantata en varias voces.
Libro de talleres de la Academia Cultural Yurupary.
Presentación - Martes 25 de noviembre, a las 6:30 p.m
Auditorio Manuel Mejía Vallejo, (Torre de la Memoria), de la Biblioteca Pública Piloto
ariadnem: (Default)
God...I'm sick...my throat is throbbing and it's getting swollen _O_

The book is finished, which means is now in the hands of the design team for the graphics and stuff, and the editorial comittee has already given its veredict. The two stories I submitted have passed their evaluation.  Now, the corrector is going to receive to make the final editing needed and it will be ready by December.

My trip to the US is almost ready. We're looking for the accomodation in NY and that'll be it.  I'm very happy about it because I've had to put it off about three times this year and b/c of my new job, I coudln't even go to the Y-con.  I'll do it next year, though, :P
ariadnem: (fire)
So, my writing course is finally over and last night, when my teachers heard me reading Laberinto they were like O.o  First, because they could fathom what was going to happen (YAY!) and second because they were taken aback by the way I use Spanish. 

^____^ )

Now I have to go back to my Sesas  ^___^ and take advantage of my lunch break.

*yawns*

Oct. 25th, 2007 07:17 pm
ariadnem: (bored)
I'm in class, and my teacher is so goddman boring.

Somebody, amuse me, please?

Deseo

Jun. 7th, 2007 10:52 pm
ariadnem: (real)
Despertó.  Se volvió a dormir.  No deseaba volver a despertar, ni salir de su realidad.  Quería quedarse allí, mantenerse entre las páginas que olían a moho y a olvido.  Pretendía continuar estando vivo.

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