Routine and Planning

The positive effects of routine and planning in the execution of difficult and time-consuming work cannot be overstated. One could say that both are mandatory, if there were not, as always, exceptions that invalidate the rule. Planning transforms the immensity of the work into small tasks; thanks to it, there is no thinking when one should simply execute; it facilitates, directs the effort, illuminates the path to be taken, prevents from beforehand unjustified frustrations—and the list could be endless. Of routine, needless to say of the force of habit: routine represents the anticipated victory over all psychological barriers; it is the certainty of advancement and the conversion of the effectiveness of planning into a matter of time. In short: routine and planning are weapons that sweep away difficulties and ensure focus on the final goal.

The Professional Writer Is Obliged to Have a Pen at Hand

The professional writer is obliged to have a pen and a notepad at hand at all times,—whether awake or asleep,—physical or virtual. Otherwise, he will lose most of his ideas, his work will suffer, and he will not be worthy of the professional epithet. Stories takes shape, solutions are found when conscious reasoning rests and the brain works quietly. Unexpectedly, although predictably, it manifests itself, so the professional must immediately register the manifestation, otherwise he tends to lose it. Cherishing his own work, the writer will never allow himself the luxury of wasting his moments of inspiration.

Building a Fragmentary Work

The thinker gains a lot by choosing, as Nietzsche and Cioran did, to build a fragmentary work. Letting go of the presumptuous and counterproductive delirium of attainable unity, i.e., of supposedly attainable perfection, the thinker can concentrate on conferring precision and potency to small fragments. Moreover, the superiority of a collection of aphorisms over an essay is indisputable: the latter hardly ever justifies rereading; the former’s innate multiplicity makes complete assimilation impossible all at once. Furthermore: building in fragments makes it possible to precisely settle the disparate and complicated mental movements, while developing and deepening a single reasoning certainly imposes a limit—that is, it forces the mind to dismiss a large part of its manifestations.

Nelson Rodrigues’ Way of Constructing Prose

Nelson Rodrigues’ way of constructing prose is curious. Whether in novels, short stories or even chronicles, it is clear his obsession with framing the text within a predefined aesthetic—he acts in prose as poets do in verse. The flow of his narratives almost always follows a protocol, and the result is a pronounced and unmistakable style. There was a time when I thought standardization was essential to great style. Today I see it a little differently. I admire regular constructions, but I believe I prefer variety: speed one day; the next slowness, a lingering cadence, commas instead of periods. Styles, formats, measures, not static dynamism or terminating sluggishness. What is difficult, however, is to identify masters in multiple styles, capable of satisfying, in a single work, the cravings of who is accustomed to finding comfort by shifting of shelves.