Tuesday, January 19, 2010

When the Lights Go Out

When the idea of writing a Young Adult Fantasy Novel struck me, I shuddered.  But the itch was persistent and strong I felt I would sag if I did not give it a shot... but then, as I tried to put every idea into place, my mind kept going back to those colossal figures of writers that excel in this field. It isn't worth the pain.. I felt the weaker, the skeptical, the hardly certain part of me nudging me. You can't do it better than the Rawling and the LJ Smith and the I don't know who. Even though. That isn't reason enough to quit.


But the truth is I know I have got a story inside me, and until it gets out I will continue to suffer. Well, I made up my mind to get into this. And I wonder how it will turn out. 


I have read a lot of creative craft and I have come out with just one certain rule... it may not count for anyone, but I believe in it. You can't teach anyone how to write his or her own story. Every writer has his own rules also... this is because writing is an intimate exercise, something that unites us to our world, something that heals us also. And the pains may not be the same for every writer.


It is no more time to drudge over what this great writer or what the other did or what made the other best. What interests me now is that I am writing. I have begun this tale. I tell it to myself, I listen to it as I write it for the world.  I remember its characters, issues of the dreamy sphere of my spiritual depths. I love them. Those I hate, God pardon me, I will kill them... I will be posting some passages of the book here for friends to savor and to give me feedback. I don't want to hear that milky talk like I like this story... Believe me, I know you won't like it... (so don't lie.) Just go ahead and tell me what makes it a lackey. 

2 comments:

  1. Great insight Rom. I will like to write too, you inspire me!

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  2. I believe we are all inspiration to each other. Just that... Hmmmm, we hardly open the windows inside to let just a little air of others come into us, our the perfume of their lives to touch us. I think, I need to think again about this.

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