So I know how stoic I am in most of my posts save my introduction post, devoid of any emotions and always straight to the point. I reason not many people would want to be swarmed with long talks, and even if they do, no one would be interest in knowing about gnirob o’ Debbie.
And just in case you’re wondering what gnirob means, or wasn’t until I said that you probably were, and you read-back to see what I imagined you were curious about, and now you are curious about a curiosity you weren’t aware of until I made you curious to get curious.
Well, I’ll tell you. I picked up the phrase from one of my favorite books of all time, “IF YOU COULD SEE ME NOW” by Cecelia Ahern.
The protagonist Ivan, had the habit of speaking some words backward.
Funny thing is, after I read that book I was certain many writers were what they were because it was ordained for them to write. I thought writing was an innate gift they were born with. I wasn’t sure I’d ever write half as well as most of the writers I still look up to did/do, and so I put off writing up until last year.
Well before then though, I remember my first mini book- even though I remember naught of what I had written in there. I had pieced out empty and blank sheets of paper from my school books, as I was done with the term, and and we were to embark on a long holiday.
I was hyped because it was Christmas, and we were traveling to the east to visit my first maternal cousins.
My Mom is a twin by the way, it has nothing to do with the narration but I felt like chipping it in.
And so, I folded them into a square and made this customized little book of about a finger thick sheets, hoping to fill it up with a story before travelling so when I get there I could read it out to my cousins.
So if I were to trace down when I started writing- apart from the mandatory English comprehensions I wrote, I’d say I started writing some twelve years ago – I was nine.
In between those years, I filled it up with reading as many novels as I came across.
In secondary school, I was in the sciences whilst my sister was in arts, with literature being one of her courses. As such, she owned a lot of books she was supposed to read, books I read way before she did.
And the irony of this is, I didn’t like English as a subject. I hated the concept of semantics, I hated phonetics and basically everything that had to do with English language structure.
My mantra then was, whatever sounds right to me, is right.
Not surprising though, English was one course I did so well in.
How on earth did I get here, I was supposed to speak on my writing journey crickets.
Anyways, I officially started writing almost two years ago…official sounds a tad awkward, like I filled a form and applied to an agency before I started writing haha.
So thing is, I got done from college, I had to wait some months for my results to be processed, and my final project to be graded, and I was all at home, thinking what a fraud time was, and how it had crept up on me and stolen me to old age.
I am 21 by the way.
I was thinking of what to do with my life, as the realization that the course I had chosen to study in school held little fascination for me.
I read, and one lazy morning I crept – see me, always creeping. So yeah I crept on the most popular forum in my country, and glazed to see what my country people dem was all about.
A section caught my interest- the literature section, and I decided to explore it. I read so many stories, but one writer however kept me reading all night and gawking, with my mouth agape at the screen. It was a fantasy tale by a Doctor by Profession and Writer by Hobby, named Roy. I fell in love with the imagery, and decided I too wanted to try my hands on a full story.
However, I didn’t immediately. Prior, I had written a fifty word sketch of a story I had no inclination to completing.
I had simply written it as an on spur of the moment documentation on my laptop.
So I decided to register on the forum, and when I did that, I made my intentions known to write.
I stayed a good five months before I actually did write.
**Disclaimer ** – approximately four to five months, I have never been good with timing.
It just occurred to me that this post is turning into a history article, so I’d just round up that part of when I started writing by the cliché: and the rest, they say, is history
I write for a lot of reasons. I write to air out my brain whenever I feel my thoughts and desires have gotten all stale in there- I am an exaggerated introvert (this hardly makes any sense) and so I basically keep everything locked up – it’s my bad habit, or trait or whatever.
I have a folder marked top-secret filled with files of thoughts and reactions that are probably not going to see the light of day – well until I become famous and someone hacks into my computer and threatens to publish it.
In which case, I would whole heartedly give him/ her my full support, not because I am cowardly or waiting for that big push to show the world how awesome I am, but with a tangible reason for doing so anyway.
crickets
I write because I realized that no one else would right my story better than I would. I write to free myself. I write to teach a lesson. I write to tell a story. I write because I want to others to experience what I experience when I read the books of amazing authors that I have read. I write because it’s literally the only thing I know how to do well. I write because there’s this blissful feeling I get when I look back on my work, and see what came out of my little head.
I write because I rather write than anything else. Admittedly I do get lazy sometimes, and sit wishing I could get a thought-to-writing transmitter which could just offload whatever I was thinking on the receiving medium, instead of me having to type them all out.
And by Jove, spare me and my gentle heart of reading and correcting those grammatical errors because when I write, I write with my hands three steps ahead of my brain, and my eyes anywhere but on the screen on the computer.
I love writing because of the fulfillment it brings me. It’s an amazing feeling every writer experiences when they end a story. Maybe it’s just me, but every day I don’t write, I count as wasted. It doesn’t even have to make sense, as long as words come out of me into a tangible form that can be seen and read by either me or any other person, I feel I have grown as a writer when I practice, not even considering the amount of time spent. Most times, it’s hard to keep up with the offline schedule and mirage of daily activities, and all what not. But if I can get down about five hundred words per day, I feel I have achieved something.
Honestly, I think I grabbed it by the neck and had it squirming and yanking at my hair, until it saw the love radiating from me and decided to give me a chance at friendship and probably love.
Good? To what standard?
I think I could be better, and so I keep trying to better myself in the craft. I try not to compare myself to others. Because that’s the main reason I didn’t start writing until I did. Left to me, then, I would never think myself as good as they are, so right now I learn to appreciate their style of writing, and see if I can pick up a thing or two I really like and appreciate about it.
I wish I could make writing a full time job! I wish I could quit every other thing I am doing now, and just focus on being a writer, and be successful in that.
I feel if I focus my energy in it, and it’s rewarding, then I’m good to go. Made for life, they say.
Building plots, creating characters and milieus. Inspiring programmers to come up with a thought-to-text program so I never have to edit again.
Sorry I drifted- clears throat.
If I ever were to explain to an Alien what writing is, I don’t think I’d have to do so in so many words. It probably would have read my mind telling it I believed in it when half the World’s populace doubted, and so that was why I almost wrote a story about it.
Almost, because I haven’t and might probably forget to.
I’m sure it would understand.
This was fun.
If you went through every word I wrote, you are the real G. This little intro [insert uncontrollable laughter] was inspired by the hobby contest post by @anomadsoul
You should probably try it out, even if you don’t win the cash, you get another chance at re- introducing yourself, and probably meet someone who shares similar interest with you. It is a win-win!
