Where the Lannister’s took me

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Well hello! I’m here speaking from the underworld… Nah, it’s not like it looks, I promise I haven’t die (yet, I’ll die at some point of my life, that’s for sure). There’s been some kind of absence in my blog though. You might have noticed that (or not) but in any case let me explain myself.

Something happened in my life, a great change that starts with “L” and ends with “R”… Do you want to make a guess…?

Yep, Lancaster, this beautiful tiny medieval city in the North West of England that none of my Spanish friends knew from before (and they never pronounce the name correctly, by the way). I moved to Lancaster since last Friday. And it was not because its lovely weather, it was because Lancaster believed in me once so I cannot let it down!

Let me tell you the story.

It was my last year at university. I studied English and Japanese because I wanted to travel, it’s as simple as that. But since I was a child my passion has been telling stories to others (and then, by extension, writing them). When I was a teenager I got really into writing feeling very passionated about it because it gave me freedom in a dark period of my life when all that I can feel (or percieve) was weakness and insecurity. Then I published some books, won some contest and I thought, hey, how about making a living of it?

But I was being naïve. At university I realized things were not that easy, Spain entered officially into The Crisis and suddenly the only thing I wanted was working, working, working because if you couldn’t get yourself a job you were nothing… and living at my parent’s expense once I finished my degree seeemed like taking advantage of them,

So I focused on getting high grades and being the first in my class. Those grades didn’t get me a job but they helped me to get an Erasmus in Scotland which I enjoy so much and it proved that I not only like traveling but I actually like living in different places than my own.

Then, fourth year came. All my teachers in Spain were telling us that it was a pity we were finishing that year because we wouldn’t get a job with The Crisis (apparently before it was quite easy to get a job… and well, my parents are the proof as both of them work in things they like). So I was scared to death, I’m not going to lie about it. I needed to find a solition. So I told to myself “Let’s do Masters degree!” (which by the way it’s compulsory in Spain). But one thing I learned from my internship in the radio (yep, I had worked in a radio station) I should focus on the things I love fore to enjoy life (at least I should keep them in mind).

And what do I love? Writing… But in Spain Creative Writing courses are not serious at all. They are thaught in private unversities and it seems more like a hobby than a proper job. On the other hand, my experience with a Scottish university had been great (and so much better compared with my experience in Spain). So I thought, why not doing a Creative Writing MA in UK? It tied my two passions together: a different language (English) and writing…

Now, I applied to five universities and the application process was difficult, demanding, frustrating… Then I had to wait and the first thing I got… three rejections. I thought I couldn’t make it (my teachers in Spain had told me Creative Writing in UK was quite demanding and that I should be prepared for consider something else a field for my Masters). But then, on the 11th of March I got an email from Lancaster University which began as it follows:

“We are pleased to inform you…”

I needn’t to read anything else, I was crying. I was happy, I wanted to jum and scream and kiss the people who had read my portfolio of stories and had thought that even if English is not my first language and sometimes I made mistakes or weird things with it I deserved a chance…

Then it turned to be that I loved the programme for the Creative Writing MA here at Lancaster. No offense, but it’s very different from the other universities I applied to. (And so much original).

So now I’m here, I’m ill because the silly weather… I feel nervous, excited, afraid… but above all those I feel grateful.

What are the things that inspire you gratitude? Did you make a big change in your life when following your dreams? Did it work as you expected it or did it turn into something completely different? C’mon guys, I’m here all alone (now it’s for real) and I’d love to read some of your experiences to get inspiration from them!

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