The Write Stuff

I began my love affair with words when I was still in grade school. Usually I wrote about short stories and have my father critiqued them. My father was a wide reader so he would know what made a good story. And since he always told me that my stories were good, I gained confidence in my talent over the years. I even dreamed that someday I will find my bestselling novel displayed side by side with the novels of Robert Ludlum and Jack Higgins (they were my father’s favourite authors).


While my cousins were into singing and dancing, I was into writing. In fact I was the only one in my family that showed inclination towards the written words. My cousins were great dancers and singers. They would always participate in school programs showcasing their talents. In one instance a close friend of mine asked me how come I was the only one not up on stage dancing or singing my heart out. I was hurt by her question but what can I do but be honest with her? I told her that I was born tune deaf and thus cannot carry a tune even if my life depended on it. And as luck would have it, I also have two left feet so dancing with me would be dangerous to my dance partner’s toes. Therefore, singing and dancing were out of my repertoire though not for lack of trying. But please there was no need for everyone to pity me. I was not comfortable being the centre of attention anyway.


Looking back during those times, I sent a silent prayer of thanksgiving to God. Being a writer helped me express myself. I also made my hobby as a secondary source of income sometimes (a pittance actually but it gave me satisfaction to earn a little something from it). So what more can I asked for?

Well, maybe a Nobel Prize for Literature would be nice. But then again who am I kidding?