On writing
Don’t mind me I’m just going to talk about myself again. Talk to myself about myself. Let’s see. You know, I really fancy myself a writer. But am probably too lazy to finish anything substantial. A book? Incredulous. A pamphlet, maybe.
***
When I was a kid I used to draw people. I draw them quite well. Sometimes with a cartoon-like quality. Other times, I like to make faces out of geometric strokes. And tell everyone – it’s a face.
My mum once forced me to join a drawing contest that had a US dollar cash prize. I told her I would lose as I’ve seen the caliber of sketch artists who probably are well trained in to the physics of shading and blurring, and depth perception. Whereas I was just a preteen hobbyist who happened to use a great deal of rear end notebook pages to draw the story of a fictitious character – which is not tantamount to skill. I initially refused. I was so embarrassed to even send an entry! She was persistent to the point that she posed a threat that she will never support my drawing as a hobby if I don’t enter this contest. Come to think of it now, it was a really twisted and very cruel thing to say to an 11-year old. But at that time, I thought that there was no way to go around it and that I had no choice. Why would I want one of my favorite things taken away from me? And so I drew.
And that was the last time I remember drawing a great deal.
I’ve always thought of publishing my work. But I’ve read the caliber of writers out there. Sometimes, I’m afraid to write. Not because of the work that is out there already. There are stories that will write themselves, eventually, through time. We will always leave imprints of historical memory through written work. If I do not publish my work, the world will not be missing any great literature. Great literature will always be there.
I’m afraid to lose the will to write. It may sound absurd however, writing is not something I wish to do for a specific endeavor. I wait for it to come to me like a dream. Unexpected. Unforced. Like a woman you woo. You can never know when she will come. You can never force her to come. But you have to be prepared when she does. You can’t chase her off and suck her dry like an enterprise. She won’t like that.
***
I guess, I am not ready yet. But my goal at the moment is to shape up. I will work to deserve the craft. To possess her and rightly so.
