Weeks ago I posted some thoughts on being a musician. Now, I want to reflect on me being a writer. I feel weird saying it because I never considered myself one. But I am. A good one? I don’t know. But I am one.
I’m trying to think back of when it all started. Ah yes, 1st grade. I remember a teacher challenging us to write a story. I wrote one on sharks. Don’t remember much of the plot line. All I knew is that once it was done, the teacher loved it. He, I don’t remember his name, actually took the time to walk me out of class to the library to make a hard cover for it with spirals and stuff. It was my first book!
I don’t know where it is. Probably somewhere in the lost and found. I do remember getting a Young Authors Certificate for it. Can you imagine how I felt? Like a million bucks! This is how I looked back then:
I loved wearing that button shirt. That I do remember.
Then 2nd grade happen. And third, fourth, middle school and high school. I stopped caring for books and writing period. AOL was the thing. Online chat rooms, cartoons, friends, and stuff. I despised the pen. Wonder why, because I always had a wild imagination. I could of put it in to good use. Shows like Rocko’s Modern Life, Ren & Stimpy, and Dragon Ball consumed my life. Though, I did write a lot “love” letters.
LiveJournal was introduced to me in my senior year. Then, later on, much later on, MySpace. I think we all became micro-writers. We finally started getting in touch with our emotions again. Like, “I hate my life,” “going to the bathroom,” and “sad face” status.
Things got real when jobs asked about my writing skills. I skipped that.
College started. I was never the brightest kid in the room. I was good with labeling myself satisfactory. “C” was ok with me. In fact, I wanted to find ways to cheat the system to graduate faster. Which is why I attended a private college to graduate in a year for 50 times more than my local community college’s tuition. Because I didn’t read and write well, I fell in to the school loan trap. See kids?
I went back to the community college and dreaded the fact that I needed to take English 101 and 102. But little did I know, it was the best college courses of my life. I end up with a teacher much like my first grade one. This college professor invested so much time in my writing. He complimented my work, wrote awesome notes behind the printed sheets, sent me books to read, and kept in contact via email vigorously motivating to continue to write. Those written stories I do have. While they are not great, it marks a new beginning for me.
All of this had a ripple effect in my recent years, which led to me the craft of visual storytelling. The hype of blogging via WordPress also served its purpose in igniting that passion again. It was years and months of trial and error. Ever since the beginning of 2014, I think I gotten a good grip of it.
I really wonder what it was? The big gap of no writing. I walk on egg shells saying this, but everyday of my life I fight against dyslexic behaviors. Could it be that? Don’t know. But I can assure you, it won’t stop me from writing.