Monday, December 12, 2011

I knew how to write before I could read - and I loved it

My journey as a person learning how read was not an easy one, but I do remember how eager I was to read my first borrowed book from the library once I had started reading and had gotten my very first library card.  And that, disturbingly enough, more than I wanted to attend a birthday party I had been invited to by  one of the girls in 'the cool crowd' back in my primary days. She had been nice to me though, and often hung out with me and my other friends. She wasn't as nasty and mean as the rest. I still remember her name as well, even though it's been years. Andrea.

Anyway - cutting the reminiscing and getting back to the point - once I had started primary school and received my very first 'note book' I had not put the pencil down. I loved the sound of it when drawing 'funny shapes' - to me at the time, which were the letters in the alphabet. My first ever letter to put down in a nice cursive style was the letter 'a'. God how thrilled I was to stare at my first ever letter which I had proudly jotted down in my notebook.

I remember that before that day all I had done was scribble swirls in my books because I thought they looked nice and reminded me of professional writing. But ever since the time I could read my life was changed. I knew from that moment that I wanted to become an author, and although the hype might have died down a bit over the years, my zeal is pretty much still there.

I get a thrill out of meeting people like myself. People who love reading, who love writing. To me writing is like exploring a whole different world. The story unfolding is just as unknown to me as it is the next reader. I don't know, as well as the reader, what is going to happen next. It's like I'm on autopilot, just following my fingers as they move across my laptop's keyboard, swiping, clicking and pressing every letter to form sentences in what becomes a story.

As a child I would tell my siblings stories and would be overwhelmed when they got mad at me for stopping. I took them on several adventures, at times involving them as characters in my stories. They loved every bit of it, and quite surprisingly, although it was exhausting to stay up for long hours telling made-up stories because my siblings would refuse to go to bed because they were so absorbed in finding out what would happen next, so did I.

The book projects I started and never finished - there are loads of them floating around on my laptop just waiting to be completed - were quite different from the stories I told my siblings at night. I was quite a crazy person, and still am, with a wild imagination - which at often times stretched so far that I'd start living in it.

I am an avid fan of writing, and I think I will always be. I won't be put off even when people won't bother reading what I have to say. At the end of the day you can't really avoid reading because letters are everywhere. On signs, in text messages, e-mails, bills, facebook, twitter. You find that in a day, no matter how much you really hate reading, you've read material equivalent to at least the length of one book.