Writing is a complex process. It’s like design. Not just the end-front product.

I won’t say that I write every day, because I don’t, but I’m always thinking. Often I don’t write anything and instead go to the gym or take a walk. But I’m always with my characters. They start to dominate me and occupy my life, so one way or another I’m working. For me the act of writing, of bringing a certain world to the typewriter, is only one moment of the writing. There are other levels, like investigating the lives of the characters and knowing what it’s like to be with them, seeing what they’re thinking and feeling and then quickly starting to write, so I don’t lose any of it.

There’s a very beautiful moment in the creation of something when you have no idea how far it will go. It’s an almost magical moment, when you’re constructing something from nothing, when this thing comes alive and you feel the characters start to live and you no longer have to live for them.


read at The Literature of Uprootedness: An Interview with Reinaldo Arenas : The New Yorker.