오래 전에 해외 출장 갔다가... 사온 영문판 책에서...
아래와 같은 좋은 글을 읽고, 
친구들에게 글쓰고, 책 내보라고 권하기 위해서 번역을 부탁했었다!
정말 좋은 글이지 않은가.
왜 우리가 글을 써야 하는지에 관해서 깊이 생각해볼 수 있는 이야기다.

((( 영어 잘 하시는 분 번역해주시면 감사하겠습니다! )))
소정의 선물이 있을 것입니다. 
멋지게 싸인을 해서 제책을 선물하겠습니다!
원하신다면 다른 좋은 책 한권 선물하던지 하겠습니다. 

이 글을 읽고,,,, 그 작가의 삶이 눈에 선하게 보이는 듯 했다.
아름다운 광경이 아닌가!


2009. 5. 26.     12:25


단비님께서 번역을 해 주셨으면 하고 바라는 고서
김 선욱

...................................



 [  ] 4087 / 6343      [등록일] 1999 12 30 17:58      Page : 1 / 8

 [등록자] SUNNYSON         [  ] 77           

 [  ] [   ] (Dear My Friends, I Need Your Help!!!)           

───────────────────────────────────────

 

   밑에 4381번에 말한 좋은 이야깃거리란 아래 글을

   말한 것인데, <Chicken Soup for the Soul at Work>

   이란 영어책에서 발췌해 온 것인데 번역을 해서 다른

   친구들과 같이 보면 좋을텐데...

 

   우리 토방에 영어 잘하는 친구가 많은 걸루 아는데

   좀 도와 주지않으련? 아래 글좀 누가 번역해서 가급적

   빨리 올려주었음 좋겠는데...

 

   좋은 글이라 같이 공유하고 싶은

   태양의아덜 서니..

 

   ----------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

                      I Never Write Right

 

 

There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening,

that is translated through you into action, and because

there is only one of you in all time, this expression is

unique. Martha Graham

 

When I was 15, announced to my English class that I

was going to write and illustrate my own books. Half

the students sneered; the rest nearly fell out of their

chairs laughing.

 

"Don't be silly. Only geniuses can become writers," the

English teacher said smugly. "And you are getting a D

this semester."

 

I was so humiliated I burst into tears. That night I wrote

a short, sad poem about broken dreams and mailed it to

the Capper's Weekly newspaper. To my astonishment

they published it, and sent me two dollars. I was a

published and paid writer! I showed my teacher and

fellow students. They laughed.

 

"Just plain dumb luck", the teacher said.

 

I'd tasted success. I'd sold the first thing I'd ever

written. That was more than any of them had done, and

if it was "just dumb luck," that was fine with me.

 

During the next two years I sold dozens of poems,

letters, jokes and recipes. By the time I graduated from

high school (with a C-minus average), I had scrapbooks

filled with my published work. I never mentioned my

writing to my teachers, friends or my family again. They

were dream killers, and if people must choose between

their friends and their dreams, they must always choose

their dreams.

 

But sometimes you do find a friend who supports your

dreams. "It's easy to write a book," that new friend told

me. You can do it."

 

"I don't know if I am smart enough,"I said, suddenly

feeling 15again and hearing echoes of laughter.

 

"Nonsense!" she said. "Anyone can write a book if they

want to."

 

I had four children at the time, and the oldest was only

four. We lived on a goat farm in Oklahoma, miles from

anyone. All I had to do each day was take care of four

kids, milk goats, and do the cooking, laundry and

gardening. No problem.

 

While the children napped, I typed on my ancient

typewriter. I wrote what I felt. I took nine months, just

like a baby.

 

I chose a publisher at random and put the manuscript in

an empty Pampers diapers package, the only box I

could find (I'd never heard of manuscript boxes). The

letter I enclosed read: "I wrote this book myself, I hope

you like it. I also drew the illustrations. Chapter 6 and

12 are my favorites. Thank you."

 

I tied a string around the diaper box and mailed it

without a self-addressed stamped envelope, and without

making a copy of the manuscript. A month late I

received contract, an advance on royalties and a request

to start working on another book. (99-12-30 5:12:12PM)

휴 타이핑 무쟈 힘드네.

 

Crying Wind became a bestseller, was translated into

15 languages and Braille, and sold worldwide. I

appeared on TV talk shows during the day and changed

diapers at night. I traveled form New York to California

and Canada on promotional tours. My first book also

became required reading in Native American schools in

Canada.

 

It took six months to write my next book. I mailed it in

an empty Uncle Wiggley game box (I still hadn't heard

of manuscript boxes). My Searching Heart also

became a bestseller. I wrote my next novel, When I

Give My Heart, in only three weeks.

 

The worst year I ever had as a writer, I earned two

dollars (I was 15, remember>). I my best year, I earned

$36,000. Most years I earn between $5,000 and

$10,000. No, it isn't enough to live on, but it's still

more than I'd make working part-time, and it's $5,000

and $10,000 more than I'd make if I didn't write at all.

 

People ask what college I attended, what degrees I have,

and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The

answer is none. I just write. I'm not a genius, I'm not

gifted and I don't write right. I'm lazy, undisciplined,

and spend more time with my children and friends than

I do writing.

 

I didn't won a thesaurus until four years ago and I use a

small Webster's dictionary that I bought at Kmart for 89

cents. I use an electric typewriter that I paid $129 for

sic years ago. I've never used a word processor. I do all

the cooking, cleaning and laundry for a family of six

and fit my writing in a few minutes here and there. I

write everything in longhand on yellow tablets while

sitting on the sofa with my four kids, eating pizza and

watching TV. When the book is finished, I type it and

mail it to the publisher.

 

I've written eight books. Four have been published, and

three are still out with the publishers. One stinks.

 

To all those who dream of writing, I'm shouting at you,

"Yes, you can! Yes, you can! Don't listen to them!" I

don't write right, but I've beaten the odds. Writing is

easy, it's fun, and anyone can do it. Of course, a little

dumb luck doesn't hurt.  Linda Stafford. 

(99-12-30 
5:28:10 PM/99-12-30 5:37:51 PM)