Admitting I want to be a writer

I’ve always loved to read since I was a child. I remember when, in elementary school, our teacher skipped “regular classes” to take us to the school library where we could rent whatever we wanted. We could either take the books home, or we could spend the duration of the class there, at tiny tables and on tiny couches reading whatever we had picked.

I used to rent “Marcelo, Marmelo, Martelo” by Ruth Rocha (I do not remember what the book was about, but I still remember she was a hit in children’s literature at the time). I picked this book because Marcelo was the name of my crush from 2nd till 4th grade. And I also remember Sophia using a book as a shield to actually pick her nose behind the pages. Who am I to judge? As a 7-year-old, I probably still picked my nose too at the time, just not in the sanctity of the library.

Drawing of my school’s facade. Artist: unknown.

I loved the library—its wooden floors, its classic features. I felt smart inside of it.

Years went by. I fell in love with movies and TV series. Don’t get me wrong, I will not chastise you by saying books are better than audiovisual media. I will not! I love them both, they are complementary. And as a teenager or a young adult, I would still visit the libraries of the universities I attended, marvel at their decor, and always sign out more books than I could ever possibly be able to read in the week span of a rental limit. I liked carrying them around and being the person that had those big-ass books in her bag.

Let’s jump to December 2020. 'Bridgerton' Season 1 is released on Netflix. As a huge fan of Jane Austen and the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, I took a glimpse at that automatic teaser Netflix was trying to push at me as a suggestion and I said, “Uuuh, no! This feels too Gossip Girl-y, too Technicolor, too regency on acid. I want pastels, and people being demure, and saying way more 'indeed ' than necessary.”

Eventually, I said what I always say to new releases: “I’ll watch 5 minutes of it. I’ll give it a chance.” And suddenly I was high on 'regency on acid', easily addicted, with all the time a pandemic made available for me to binge-watch it, convince my husband to watch it too, buy every one of Julia Quinn’s books online, and wait for Season 2.

Then I moved to Lisbon and started my Master’s in Audiovisual Communication and Multimedia. I discovered the world of Transmedia and became obsessed with the process of book adaptations and the mesmerizing dance between Julia Quinn and Shondaland. I bought the physical books in English - that I had already read in the electronic version in my native language - just to mark them and compare them against the script. I usually do not mark my books or write in them, as I believe in donating and passing them on, but I wanted to dissect them and check what made the screen and what was altered, why it was altered, and if those decisions were good or bad.

I know, it seems like a sin, but I used lots of colored markers on my physical 'Bridgerton' copies. I had a purpose, I promise!

When Season 2 was released in March 2022, I was a proper fan. I had read the 8 books in the series and a few more by Julia Quinn in less than a year. So it is safe to say that I hated Season 2 on the first watch. How dare they turn the story into a love triangle? And then I kept on studying and analyzing what makes a good script a good script. And then I started to understand why Julia Quinn is always so calm in saying she trusts Shondaland completely in how to make television. It is brilliant. And then I rewatched S2 a million times. And rewatched Shonda Rhimes’ Masterclass in Writing for Television a few more times. And then I wrote in big letters what I already knew I wanted in my heart since I was little: I wanna write like this. Books like these. Scripts like these.

But those wishes sometimes get buried or at least lie hidden behind the necessity of working a 9-to-5 job, to pay bills, and to build a new home in a foreign country. We lived in a 1-bedroom apartment that could only be considered an Airbnb, which my husband and I thought would be our transitional apartment, you know, good enough for the first year… but we stayed there for 3 years, actually. So now I was happy to be in a new place, where we could have a home studio separate from our bedroom, that had 4 wardrobes, and many cabinets, and even a piece of furniture that could be my own personal library—nothing fancy like Beauty and the Beast, but I could stock a few hundred pieces in there. And I would even have to buy more books to fill it!

The one piece of furniture that pushed me towards signing the lease, with lots of spaces waiting to be filled.

So in every trip to the mall, I would buy a new book to fill that space beautifully, mindfully. I am not swimming in money at this point, so I have to restrain myself and buy cheap. That means buying classics in paperback for less than 5 euros each. I haven’t got the time to read half of them yet, but I do not feel bad about my TBR pile. I think about it as a wine cellar. These books will never get old, they are classics. And they are there waiting for me to enjoy them at the right time in life. I read that somewhere, and that thought gave me the comfort of knowing that I am not a hoarder, but a collector. And now you’ve read it from me, but please don’t go saying that Taisa allowed you to buy more books when the TLC crew is recording a special “Buried Alive” episode in your house.

Sometimes, as I buy those classics, I end up buying duplicates, just because I’ve found a cuter cover, there is a sale, or because I like to have copies in different languages to practice my English, my Spanish, and my very poor French. And whenever I am proudly displaying this yet tiny collection to friends that visit me, I like to step into the shoes of my elementary school librarian and replicate that same feeling: “pick whichever you want.” There are a few exceptions, though. Those 'Bridgerton' copies I completely butchered. I could not let a friend be so distracted by my colorful markers, translations, and notes on “what made the screen *ipsis litteris* and what was completely altered.” Those are mine.

The shelf of classics and the 'Bridgerton' volumes that are totally off-limits.

Recently, as a friend of mine browsed through my tiny library in construction, I showed her those notes, and she asked, “oh, did you have to do it for your Master’s?” and I proudly answered, “no, I did it because I like the content so much, and because I hope to one day be as good of a writer as Julia and Shonda.” Then it hit me.

I have been struggling as a 32-year-old to find my Ikigai. I have been a successful journalist, international correspondent, and producer, but I’ve always dreamed of being on a big TV or movie set, even if professionally I have only scratched the surface. A few short-length films here, some indie projects there, assisting my husband in the music department at his projects. But having an education that made me polyvalent in production didn’t help me in deciding which department I would like to be in: is it directing? Is it Intimacy Coordination? Is it editing?

Now I know. It is writing. Ultimately it is showrunning, being able to navigate and oversee all of these departments I also love, but it all starts with writing. Not because someone told me to write, not because it was an assignment, not because it is a good career, but because I absolutely love it.