Words

It's been quite some time since I've last updated my blog - I'm lacking in both inspiration and motivation to at least come up with something new for everyone to read. What with me being such a self-professed ardent lover of the written word, I can't but not feel a little hypocritical especially when I kept pestering my friend to update hers :-).

A quick survey through all that I've posted reveals a very harsh truth - nobody likes my poems. That said, not many enjoy reading the fanfiction I posted either. Conclusion: People who visit my blog lack the subtle touch of artistry that is required to appreciate such fine works of art...or I plain suck in writing. I'm inclined to think the former, but like my friend once said, "If everyone feels the same way, then something must be wrong."

I would like to paint a picture whereby I can boldly declare that I've always enjoyed the written word. Sadly, that is as far from the truth as possible. I HATED reading when I was young. I was such a slow reader - my parents actually tried bribing me to read finish a Bobsey (spelling?) Twins adventure. They offered to buy me a bike if I managed to do so. I was six at that time, and a bike seemed like an adventure. I'm twenty this year, and I still can't ride a bike. Needless to say, the book was simply cast aside.

I could pretend and say that perhaps my folks just used the wrong bait to lure me to a reading habit. It wouldn't be much of a lie, I guess. Bobsey Twins was as dull as a school textbook. But then again, I just hated looking at words back then. I would beg my sisters to "play with me" sans all the possible innuendoes any sick people reading would imagine. Of course, they had to play with me - no one throws a bigger tantrum than me back then :-). So, as a result of my illiterate days, I only learnt how to read when I was in Standard 2, which was very bad. My brother had already started devouring encyclopedias when he was three. Sigh.

But in any case, my earliest memories of reading came from Reader's Digest. I enjoyed its humor while briefly browsing through its tedious articles. From then on, there was no turning back. I swept through the mini library I have at home even the 'forbidden' books my mother has - books written by my namesake, Sidney Sheldon, or the illustrious Jackie Collins. I was beginning to develop a fondness for the written word, and I soon start dreaming of producing my own works.

I could still remember my first foray into the realm of authoring a book. It was based on the fantasy series by Terry Brooks, entitled (I still cringed in abject horror as I recall) "The Druids Of Shannara". Anyone familiar with the Shannara series would know that it's not original nowadays, for the author himself has produced a novel with that title. But back then, I didn't know better, and I thought I was producing a masterpiece. Candor compels me to admit what I merely did was to write one paragraph before tearing it to pieces when my siblings laughed after reading it.

My intense interest of writing came to a head in Form 3, when I was studying for my PMR. It was somewhere then when the novelty of fanfiction was just beginning to set it, and I was swept into its addictive current as well. I would lock myself in my room, rocking to the music of "Accidentally In Love" by Counting Crows (it was really popular then), and draft out long pieces of fiction - all under the pretense of 'studying'. The fact that I only got 6 As for my PMR can probably prove how long I spent wasting my time.

My interest bloomed in Form 4 and 5, whereby I actually started dreaming of a writing career. I told my siblings that, and they enlisted the eldest to actually 'talk some sense into me'. I began writing furiously, even for class homework, to which my English teacher would just roll her eyes and probably chuck my papers somewhere.

Thus, when I came to INTI, I was first excited by the thought that since I'm with all other top students, surely there would be some who would love writing just as much as I did. There were, of course, but those were people I wasn't that close with. My friends were just so-so with reading and writing, and they had an insane vision of me being a good writer. Honestly speaking, I personally feel that there are tons of better writers out there, and I'm just an average one at the very most. I love writing, but I'm not that good at it. In fact, I've actually planned so many things to write, long epics which could take anyone's breath away, but all these projects just dwindle down into nothingness in the end.

A list of my weakness in writing amounts to something like this:
a) My vocabulary needs an expansion - I don't really describe things well enough
b) When writing fiction, I tend to get carried away and lose my plot
c) I'm probably lacking in brain cells (my mum attributes this to the computer), so I can't really remember phrases I love, making my product sound all weird and funny
d) I'm a perfectionist, so when I spot something I don't like, rather than just editing it out, I tend to delete the entire thing (I hope this explains for my lack of updates)

My resolution to these issues:
a) Intensely study all Reader's Digest Word Power articles
b) Copy out nice phrases
c) When reading, take note of how authors construct their description

These will probably take time, but I'm serious about writing. Wish me luck - cheers!