Confessions Of A Sentence

I am not much of a writer, specially in english. Most of my vocabulary is in spanish, and I am capable of making "words in the sentence are all vibrating and destabilizing themselves: no longer solid and immutable, they start to flutter this way and that in playful receptivity"(The Sentence Is A Lonely Place). At least that is what my old spanish teacher told me. But when it comes to English, "Words seemed to be intruders, blown into the rooms from otherwhere through the speakers of the television set or the radio"(The Sentence Is A Lonely Place). Perhaps it is because it is not my native language, or maybe I just don't feel comfortable writing in English because it limits my thoughts. I don't have enough vocabulary to fulfill all the expectations that my mind has for that piece of paper that will soon be read by someone. When Lutz wrote: "when we had to write, I could never call up any of the brassy and racketing words I had read" (The Sentence Is A Lonely Place)", I immediately had a flashback to the past weeks when I was writing my essay. I had some words in mind from previous books I read but they just disappeared once I started writing. Isn't it unfair? I just wish sometimes I was an English Dictionary I would avoid all this trouble.

But life is not as easy we have to learn to become good writers, and that is the purpose for this essay we are reading. Maybe it is not about knowing all the words but knowing how to work with them how to "make sure that the stressed syllables in a sentence outnumber the unstressed syllables. The fewer unstressed syllables there are, the more sonic impact the sentence will have"(The Sentence Is A Lonely Place).