¿Podrá Wattpad salvarme de una crisis de escritura?

A finales de diciembre del año pasado, mi hermana me dijo que había estado leyendo unas historias en Wattpad. Tuve que buscar una definición de Wattpad. Vagué por la página oficial pero preferí la descripción que me brindó Wikipedia: 

Wattpad es una aplicación que permite compartir nuevas historias con otras de personas. Puede ser usado por medio de su sitio web, por medio de un ordenador o desde la app en el móvil. Los usuarios pueden publicar artículos, relatos y poemas sobre cualquier cosa, ya sea en línea o a través de la aplicación Wattpad (iOS, Android,Windows Phone, Online). El contenido incluye obras tanto de autores desconocidos como conocidos. Los usuarios pueden comentar y votar por las historias o unirse a grupos asociados con el sitio web.

Hace unos años consideré escribir en esta plataforma, pero temía que plagiaran mis historias. Ha pasado mucho tiempo y ahora que estoy en la carrera le temo más a la idea de no escribir nada. Tuve varios intentos para lograr escribir y hasta tuve una clase en la que debía entregar textos de los temas que yo quisiera. Ahí es donde aproveche para escribir sobre las historias que deambulan en mi cabeza, pero nunca estaba satisfecho con los textos resultantes. Me gusta crear pero en ese momento la incertidumbre de escribir «mal» fue más fuerte y empecé a escribir sólo cuando mis clases lo requerían.

Esta vez mi hermana me dijo que si porque no publicaba en Wattpad una de las historias que le solía narrar a ella de chica. No hizo falta pensarlo dos veces, me dije «¿por qué no?» digo, las historias son vagas y poco congruentes pero no me pareció mala idea. Entonces para este 2017, Wattpad aparece dentro de uno de mis propósitos de año nuevo. Esta necesidad de escribir ya llegó a tope. Pero hay existe otra razón más por el que siento que me sentiría cómodo escribiendo en Wattpad: mis errores de escritura serían un poquito más tolerados que en otra parte. Esto no quiere decir que no me vaya a preparar para crear una historia, sino todo lo contrario; siento que este es el impulso necesario para empezar ese camino hacia la práctica constante de la escritura. Y además los personajes de mis historias exigen salir de mi cabeza para que así obtener vida propia en otros imaginarios. 

Mi propósito dice que crearía una historia diferente al mes, pero nunca se si me clavaría con una historia en particular. No lo sé.

Usar la plataforma de Wattpad brinda muchas posibilidades de escritura. Es algo nuevo para mí. Así que pienso publicar fragmentos de mis escritos aquí en mi blog con redireccionamiento a Wattpad y también escribir sobre mi experiencia al usar esta app.

Espero que los siguiente pasos sean mostrar mis textos a amigos y familiares para obtener su opinión. Esta es la parte que más me pone nervioso. Pero por más que lo intente evadir: los nervios y la crítica son parte del show.

Los géneros están puestos sobre la mesa, las herramientas están listas, yo me siento listo; así que espero pronto escribir una entrada del primer capítulo de mi primera historia en Wattpad.

Muchas gracias por leer 🙂

Momento de crear algo nuevo

PD: Aquí les dejo el enlace a mi perfil. En realidad no encontraran nada, pero se los dejo de todas formas. Wattpad Oscar Mares.

Day 10: Farewell

Comprando dulces en el centro

The image above are a pair of friends that won my affection and friendship, both of them are amazing persons and I found it amusing that it was actually sort of difficult to say good bye. But time goes by fast, and I´ll see them again onces I enter to school. The following «poem» is a little piece I wanted to dedicate to the bloggers that encouraged me to write, that commented my posts and well, every blogger out there that are writing.


Grateful and what a great honor it has been
Of getting to meet awesome people,
Of commenting, reading prompts, one through ten,
Doing what I like with people that like the same thing,
But may this be a truce of a farewell.
Yes, I hope we stay in contact too and I´ll just
End this poem with a Happy Holidays!, my wish to you.

Today prompt

Photo by Lucile de Gody

This young man waving to someone on the foggy shore evoked a common emotion: that misty, deep, and painful moment of separation, when all we have left are the last words, the last hug, the last kiss… Bodies are physically untied but nonetheless connect through sight, with the eyes refusing to be set apart.

Write a poem about a farewell today: perhaps this image may bring back memories of loved ones who passed, or revive memories of those that departed from our lives. Or you could focus on the more mundane, but still powerful moments of your daily goodbye rituals, whether it’s a friend, partner, or member of your family.

I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks :)

Day 09: Camouflage

Imagen: Miguel Bustos

Maybe if…

Maybe if I frown I´ll hide my deep desire,

Maybe if I smile you´ll stop thinking about my hatred,

Maybe if I turn my back I´ll seem uninterested,

Maybe if I make a funny face you´ll notice I care,

Maybe if I give you flowers…

Maybe if I answer Maybe…

Maybe if…


Today prompt

For today’s poem, take inspiration from camouflage — you may apply it in any way you like, whether you write about visual or social dissimulation, or focus on the way we hide our myriad emotions, actions, and reactions. What would be your ultimate smokescreen, concealment, or mask?

I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks :)


Day 08: Graffiti


Urban parchment

Give me your silence, turn your back on me,
I will take over the urban parchment paper,
Maybe turn my urge and anger to poetry,
Or an image capable to exchange indifference,
For awareness of human degradation,
Give them a dilemma, a chance, an opportunity
To Reflect on what we ignore and contemplate
What seems to dissolve inside an «I don´t care».

Here are a few of the graffiti I found on the walls of the city of Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico.

I think that graffiti is a expression platform for a visual artist, it can bring a message, in form of words or images, witch always have a meaning, personal or universal.

Today prompt

Graffiti: art, or vandalism? It sometimes seems every flat surface is someone’s canvas. Trains with spray-painted carriages trundle past graffiti-adorned buildings and rattle through illustrated tunnels.

Are you, like me, often inspired by the creativity and audacity of the artist? Or are you outraged by a perceived assault on public decency? Is graffiti a valid means of self-expression for those without a voice, or just the random scribbling of people with nothing better to do? For today’s poem, reflect on what graffiti means to you. Tell the story of a particularly memorable wall. Quote a powerful example of graffiti you’d seen (and feel free to share an image, if you’d like). Or write the poem as if it were itself splashed, for all to see, against the largest wall in town.


I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks :)

Day 07: Beloved


Your path of loving

Like the peace of an untamed prey I lived,
Peaceful but always a vulnerable being,
From the depths of reality,
Came the harmony of your voice,
Unknown was the path that led to you,
Who would guess the mystery within?
I still negate you as the creator of it.


Soon I would discover your ethereal presence,
The confusion of not knowing if I´m called or dismissed,
The awe of not being able to decode your gestures,
I may not know you even after the stretch of time,
Maybe I´ve put myself as a blind adept,
That has worshiped your silence with mimic,
Making this a mutual sweet torture.


I have learned to love you beside of your absence,
I´ve sowed the seed of patience,
I´ve praised the sun of your beauty,
I´ve watered my patience in confused tears of happiness and hatred,
I´ve taken care of my mistakes and till now I can see,
I contemplate the distortion of love,
Of you? Of me?


Now I whisper: I love you,
As I leave your beautiful and mysterious path,
Thank you my beloved.


Today prompt

Something about the very word “beloved” causes a frisson in us. Out of the people that matter to you, who matters the most? Whom do you love, or whom have you loved more than anyone else? What does the word “beloved” summon up in your imagination? What songs, poems, stories, movies spring to mind? Who is your beloved?

Today, write a poem celebrating your beloved. It does not have to be a specific person — you could address an imaginary beloved from the future who’s waiting for you. You could take on the persona of a well-known mythological or historic character and address her or his beloved in your poem. You could create a new type of lover and beloved.

Love is a terrifying feeling for me, but as scared as I usually am, it´s a feeling I enjoy the most. This poem was inspired by one of the most enigmatic persons that have been in my life, the type you love and hate, but love because of both feelings.

I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks :)

Day 06: Fallacy

Photo: Christopher Michel

Dust and water purge

They will rise from earth to defend,
From the seas, whales will lift flight,
Mammoths from dust shall reform,
Sailing sky and scrapping earth they´ll fight.
Tanks will attack the shape shifting animal,
Rumors destroy economy making nature the criminal.
Missiles will try to take down the mystic whale,
Bang, bang, no explosions just watering an exploding fail.
There is no way to stop the mammoth of dust,
Nor the whale made out of water,
In an attempt of restoration humanity is mud,
But as a symbol of purity, hope is fuel in the creatures blood.

Today prompt

Unsound arguments. Failures of reason.


Today, let’s write poems that are wholly illogical.

Let’s see how miserably we can get reason to fail; both our reason and the reason that guides our readers.

Try not to consider this prompt as a call to nonsense but rather a call to use your good (creative) sense to arrive at firmly misconstrued ends. Surprise yourself!

Alternatively, make poetry from known philosophical fallacies. Make that straw man stand by a red wheelbarrow, put the genius of the crowd to the test, or tell the tale of a (tautological) tub.

“Poetry…where magic is supreme and where therefore things happen which realistically-minded strangers find difficult to understand.”  – Robert Graves

It was a little hard for me to come up with something, but flying whales and mammoths made out of dust, is not that bad of an idea, is it?

I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks :)


Day 05: Freedom


What is freedom?

 Freedom is being able to walk away without fear,

To release me of predetermined thoughts,

No to cause destruction, just a path without tears.

Freedom is being able to climb a mountain,

To be on the top of the world and see,

Watch brothers and sisters make a wish on a fountain with me.

Freedom is being able to think that I´m free,

To do what feels wright, what is wright,

Free to create a bond with nature to be.

Free to enjoy all feelings without regret,

Happiness, anger, bad and good,

To be humble for humanity I´ll never forget.

I will be free when my actions don´t need to injure or cause destruction,

where no religion rules, where there is no light nor darkness,

The place where there is no force or element that creates life of retention.

Today prompt

Freedom is a fundamental need. It is so powerful that nations go to war for it. People engage in both despicable and heroic deeds to gain it. In the name of freedom we suffer, make sacrifices, and attempt to perform miracles. For freedom we are willing to lose everything and risk our lives, since no life really is one without freedom.

What freedom means is open to interpretation, which is why it’s been a recurring subject in art. In today’s poem, share your take on freedom. While you’re at it, be fearless with your thoughts. Don’t hold back. Unleash your emotions and be honest with yourself. Uncensored writing coming from the heart often produces the most amazing read.

I consider myself a free person, but that´s not true, I still struggle with a few things that involve initiative on boosting or starting projects, or do stuff I give up on for the typical «what will they think» «what if…». But I don´t torture myself, I try everyday to be better than yesterday, and that involves, to be even more free than I was before.

I don´t really write a lot in English, but fortunately I´m having a great time doing these writing prompts.  Dear, reader if you notice any grammar errors, please let me know. Thanks 🙂

Day 04: Seconds


Immortalized seconds

It hit like a tick,
Rolled over like a tock,
That car accident,
Immortalized the seconds of the clock.

The light was a tick,
Reality a tock,
To recognize a second chance… tick, tock.


Today Prompt

A new life sees the world for the first time. Simultaneously, another life takes its final breath.

A passenger that was supposed to board a plane was one second late. Hours later, the plane went missing, the passenger saved.

Unimportant as it may seem, a split second can change our lives in ways we can never imagine. So today, write about the basic unit of time, seconds. Reflect on those few seconds when a loved one was in a life-and-death situation. Relive the few seconds when you held your eldest child for the first time. Recount those seconds when you were waiting for big news that was about to change your life.

I had a hard time trying to choose what I was going to write about, and well, I wrote the poem above, but well, I really haven´t had a car accident and so I tried to imagine what my mom felt when she had a car accident a few years ago, can´t say it was very fun, but it surely involved a lot of thinking. Time really is a phantasmal entity.

Day 03: Sleep


Please let me fall asleep when I close my eyes
I’ll be grate when the somas muse arrives
Leading me through mist of reality fares
Looking for winged demons with feathers
Offering there mystic presence to stay
Within the covers of my pillow.

Photo by: Cheryl Brind

The email for today read:

Sleep: a world where our thoughts rule.

A place where reality is overshadowed by dreams.

A time when we transport our soul from the real world to the virtual.

For some, the hours we spend asleep, alone and in peace, are the best of the entire day; for others, whether haunted by nightmares or unable to fall asleep in the first place, not so much.

It’s time to think deeply about sleep. Dive into the pool of night and let whatever it is you find there take poetic form. (I hope this prompt doesn’t make an insomniac out of you!)


Day 02: Reflection

Today’s prompt is one that I really enjoyed writing, and it says something like this:

On water, in puddles, in glass, in mirrors – reflections can clarify, blur reality, or fracture it altogether. They can serve up surreal images or a perspective that’s unexpected. Whether it’s street light-reflected raindrops or the sky distorted in a half-melted patch of ice, reflections are nature’s funhouse mirrors.

Reflections are not limited to non-living objects. Our bodies reflect our internal health and our clothes reflect our lifestyle. We also reflect internally upon our world, our physical state, or on ideas bouncing around inside our skulls.

Clear or distorted, in your poem today tell us something about the reflections you see — in the world or in yourself.

So my attempt of a poem is titled glass, being this and object capable to reflect.



Of all the sources of reflection,
I am glass captured in natures history.
An antique piece of see through,
A piece that flares as a divinity.

I get foggy sometimes,
Shattered from threats,
Believing in humanity
I reflect mi interior without regret.

Don’t know if I’m seeing through or being seen,
Sometimes I’m glass others just eyes,
Both give me the present to look and whisper redeem.

It is a distorted image
Like dust flying under rain,
Impossible to clarify,
Maybe it is a train,
Or kid saying good bye.

Of all sources of reflection,
I am eyes captured in natures history.
An antique heritage of see through,
Pieces that flare of divinity.