The Highlight of My "Writing" Career

March 17, 2009

I’m a frustrated writer. I have no conscious effort to be a writer, more so to be a good one. But I want to be a good writer.

When I was in grade 1 or so, I used to write poems when I’m bored. English poems about the clouds, plants, or animals. In a cross-wise paper, I wrote with big round letters. I felt I was a genius. haha. Since I learned to write until about grade 5, I wrote cards for every occasion to my parents and created the card itself. My illegible writing was bad, my artwork was worse, but my thoughtfulness was at its finest.

 

When I was in grade 6, my school planned to launch its first school organ. The advisers chose me to be Features Editor-English, and the very first front page was my article on the upcoming school election. The school year ended, and so was my career for the organ.

 

During high school, my laziness and mediocrity decided to stay with me throughout. I had no interest in joining extra curricular activities, except sports, and all I wanted was to go home every school day as soon as I can. I belong to the “cream” section, and I had classmates who were very good writers, joining writing contest even at the national level. I admired them and secretly wanted to join them in the school paper but never even tried to take the exam. I was confident I’d never make it. I’d never know if I was right.

 

I took up English Studies as a preparatory course for my dream job. Besides, it’s the only subject I’m good at! In UP, my insecurities grew even stronger, meeting good writers and speakers. Given the option to choose being a Language or a Creative Writing Major, I chose Language. I do not like forcing myself to write, and being a Creative Writing Major meant submitting more and more required papers, papers written creatively. It meant more demand of my time and my creative juices. The time I can manage, but creative juices I did not know where to get. Instead of improving my “writing” skills, I enjoyed my critical-thinking classes.

 

Five years ago, I began working as a copy editor. I was trained to be meticulous about grammar and punctuations. This, however, impeded my writing (as well as reading) skills, instead of helping it. I sometimes become overly concerned with grammar, and starting my sentences in conjunctions here is kinda “difficult” for me.

 

To help sustain my income and to somehow stimulate my dulling brain, I’ve been working as a freelance writer since 2006 but have been inactive for the past 2 years (dollar is lower now, and topics are more difficult). I wrote about pet supplements which I hardly know, reviews of book which I never read, and comparative analyses which somehow interest me but were never rarely available. Point is, I never got the satisfaction I expected from freelance writing. Forced writing was never a pleasure.

 

Less than a year ago, I started blogging. All your comments make me smile. Writers are good writers when they can play with words and when they can elicit emotions or responses from the readers. At least I have your comments.

 

And then dear sheng asked me if she can publish my article in the journal where she is an editor of. I hope she saw me when I read her message asking permission as I was thrilled, and I hope she saw me when I received a copy of the journal. My grin reached my ears, and I was excited and exhilarated. Sheng, thank you.

 

This is the highlight of my “writing” career. It has become more special for me because the article was written in Filipino (friends say I write better in English) and the topic was very close to my heart (nationalism).

 

Who knows? I may actually start at true writing career. haha