I Love Stories

I am always in the quest for stories.  That is what I do actually, everyday.  I make a living meeting people, talking to them, asking them questions and construct their stories.  I love stories and love writing them.  Though not all stories gave me pleasure, in fact most of them gave me a lot of pressure.

But I love stories; especially stories of ordinary people because every one of them has a lesson for others to learn.  The lives of people who could make people stop and ponder, reflect, remember, and are inspired.  I do not write just for the sake of writing, though sometimes I do that, because it is my job to write.  Sometimes I got frustrated with the job I have now, but continue to go on; motivated by the possibility of finding great stories.

I write not because I hunt for stories, I write because it makes me grow as person.  I learn as I write and I write as I learn.  I need to feel and touch the reality from the deepest of my life through the stories I heard.  Then as I empty my cup, I construct that story front the tip of my pen.  As one writer said (forgot which writer) in every story you read, there must be a writer’s DNA registered in it.

People who know me will know that I love books very much.  I read various kinds of genres.  I do not read romance often, but my favourite genres are historical fiction and autobiography.  The more I read those stories, the more I became passionate about the heroes, and the more I wanted to meet them in real life.  Therefore, I wanted to write about them.

Growing up, I neither was the one shine in class nor was I selected to compete in essay writing.  However, my love for books started when I was in primary school.  I love books very much that I became a librarian but I did not pick up the habit of reading until I was 14 years old.  I finally picked up reading because I found out that I was terrible in English.  How bad?  Either I flunked or the highest I could get was ‘C’.  That is how bad I was, but as soon as pick up reading, I made a commitment to read every day.  My comprehension was so bad at first that I needed to read few times for a page to understand.  Then I started to read aloud and listen to English speakers especially those in the movies.  I picked up and tried to mimic until it stuck with me.  Some people said I have a spoken English of a native (though I doubt that sometimes).

I remember I entered a confessional room one day and as I started to confess my sins, the priest opened that little door and asked where I came from.  That caught me by surprise.

There was one person who believed that I could write and that is my former headmistress.  She was the first person to do that. She told me one day that I could pick up my pen and write.  I was down one day because I could not get into science class in Form 4.  Those times, people had a perspective that science class are for good students and Arts are for those who do not do well in studies.  However, my former headmistress told me that being in Arts class means wider field.  She told me that God put me in Arts class because He has a plan for me.  Therefore, she asked me to pick up my pen and write.  I did not do that until about 10 years later; I pick up my pen and write.

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s