Honestly, I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first fiction when I was eight years old. It was a short story about Ana Clara, my second-grade teacher at the time. In the story, Ana lived in darkness until she discovered the moon, Clara. The two became friends and realized that one lit up the other’s life.

I don’t have this file anymore, but I remember the message of that story to this day. The idea was to get closer to that enigmatic teacher. After that, I wrote many other short stories, essays, poems, plays, screenplays, and the book “Everything I learned in New York City.”

I’ve been producing content for the internet since 2018, and I always get questions about how my writing process works. It is difficult to answer this question, but I will try it in the following paragraphs.

I start by clarifying that I think writing and I are one. There is no separation. There is no individual Larissa who is at a concert enjoying the night and Larissa a writer who sits down on Tuesday afternoon to write this post.

Compositions I put on paper are generated by everything I live, feel and hear throughout the days, weeks, months, and my entire life. Everything I write originates from the same place, whether it’s an essay, a poem, or a report.

Also, I learned – from reading other authors on the same subject – that we writers are chaotic. We don’t necessarily think our process is a model to be followed, but it’s the only one that works for us.

Of course, I have my methods for reducing confusion. Without organization, this could not be my way of life. Artists who can’t organize themselves are the stereotype: someone with wildlife, barely able to take care of themselves.

Within my artistic wishes, I needed to feel capable of caring for myself. My reality is finding words to describe dreams. Making it a healthy process requires rules, which I like – I think I even wrote about them in the book.

The truth is that writing and I are inseparable friends, like Ana and Clara, at the beginning of this essay. Writing illuminates my life, and it is only through my texts that my writing exists.

PS. Some books I like on the subject are Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, Still Writing by Dani Shapiro, and On Writing by Stephen King.