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Could You Write A Story About You?
No matter how drab and how uneventful
our life seems to be,
there should be some bits of spices in it;
how else could we be able to go through life?
This morning while I was mulling on how to rewrite a hub I just published but which was rejected, I noticed a pencil with an inscription: "Could you write a story about you?"
Could I write a story about me? As of now, my articles have not really been a success. One of the few times that writing gave me a sense of success was at my Dutch classes. I was taking a Dutch course for adults for a year and one of our final requirements was to write an essay entirely in Dutch. I wrote an essay about my family while growing up. It was about us children accompanying and cheering for our father while he coached and played for his company softball team in various sports occasions. The grade A that I got for the essay, the fact that I did it entirely in a foreign language and the fact that my teacher was very enthusiastic about my work and let me read it infront of the class, made my day complete.
Writing is not my forte; I don't have a journalism or creative writing background. But I love to write and it's frustrating when my finished products are not what I hope to accomplish - spark public enthusiasm. I had a brief stint as columnist for our company newsletter. My first column was not a big success. I used the phrase "good old" in my column about a colleague and since that day he kept bugging me with "couldn't you think of anything else but "good old"? What am I, a hundred years old to you?"
So how can I draw public interest on a story about my ordinary drab life when all my writings so far have not drawn interest even from persons in my life? I have sent my family and relatives links to my articles and all I got was silence or forced comments through emails. Once I told my daughter about my latest article and I was met with an irritated sigh. I don't blame her for this. She has been reading my articles faithfully since I started in May or June this year and has been giving me constructive critics.
I was told that when you want to write, you have to draw inspiration from your own experiences. So that's what I did - digging up into my psyche and taking bits and pieces of my life experiences. No matter how drab and how uneventful our life seems to be, there should be some bits of spices in it; how else could we be able to go through life?
So could I write a story about me? I could but it won't be a hotseller; it won't even come up for publishing. And I don't think I have the patience and discipline to write a boring story of myself. So at the moment I'll just be contented in writing stories based on bits of my experiences like the Lazy Vain Cat - the cat was really a cat who pooped in my own yard. Although I did not chase him away with a broomstick (I just ran after him shouting angrily), I was not pleased by what he did. And to this day, instead of being afraid of me, he still finds my yard his haven ; not to poop this time, but to just sit on my white garden table. He even invited another cat. Or in the Stardust and Teddy Bears, the man with a house full of teddy bears really exists. In Her Angel in Disguise based on my first time to take a boat trip on my own. And yes, I really met a nice handsome gentleman. In the poem, Love Tarried, it's about my feelings when MJ died. I was not really a fan, it was just a shock to see and hear about his sudden death splashed on the internet and other media networks. And the blue lights whirling above my head were really true.
I wish I could have a number one selling novel. But I can dream, can't I?