Everything starts with something.
One of my favourite quotes of all time would have to be from Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary Episode (which, I might add, is FANTASTIC. Watch it. Now.) –
‘Great men are forged in fire. It is the privilege of lesser men to light the flame. Whatever the cost.’
In this case, my parents lit the flame for me. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved reading. When I was bored in the shops, I used to just read product labels just for the sake of it. My mum read to us as children before bed time (we still have that book – ‘366 and More Fairy Tales‘, and many more). For birthday and Christmas presents, as a child, I’ve always asked for a book I’ve been eyeing for a year or more in the local bookstore.
My older sister and I still have our collection of Enid Blyton short stories (both), Nancy Drew (classic and modern)(mine), The Hardy Boys (hers), Mallory Towers (hers), St Clares (hers), Spy Kids (that was mine, I was a massive fan of Spy Kids), The Secret Seven, and a lot of random books we’ve collected over the years. I still remember many of the stories attached to the books (where we got them from, who gave them to us, for what occasion). I even attempted to read Shakespeare’s MacBeth at the age of 10 when I found an old, musky-smelling book in an old-er bookshelf while exploring my grandparents’ house (That was interesting. Didn’t understand a word, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Felt so very grown up). And of course, who would forget their first ever children’s Bible, filled with beautiful images, Biblical heroes, and wonderful miracles! 🙂
MacBeth? At 10 years of age? Bring it on.
During my last few years of primary school, there was the ‘Goosebumps’ craze – a fellow bookworm friend of mine brought his ENTIRE collection to school, and they were liberally distributed across the classroom for our reading pleasure. I remember hiding a noticeably large stack of books in my class drawer so I could read them while during class – I. Just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough. Of. Them!
Naturally, having read so many books and falling in love with stories of mysticism, romance, adventure, and swashbuckling knights in not-so-shining armour, my love affair with writing began from a very young age – I wrote my first short story in the style of Enid Blyton at the age of 8 in a small purple notebook, along with illustrations, dress designs, and journaling snippets (mostly about my two best friends, Sam and Jac, and the mischief we got up to in primary school).
It eventually became two notebooks, then three, and it kept increasing in number and in size. I had journals all throughout primary and high school.
I wrote poems (especially during exams when I’ve finished my paper ahead of everyone else and my brain is still going at a hundred miles per hour), drew illustrations (mostly of natural objects like trees I saw outside my window at class), wrote stories (on the most random topic like swimming), jotted down my dreams and goals for the next 10 years, and journaled my actual dreams (you know, the ones we get when we sleep?).
To be brutally honest, I think I wrote the most when we were moving to Australia – my thoughts, hormones, and emotions were tumultuous, to say the least. I saw my handwriting evolve throughout the years, from agitated to tired, tired to hyperactive, cursive to block, you name it. I realised my handwriting reflected the things I was going through while I was journaling. My journals were TOP-SECRET, without a doubt – the confidential secrets my friends told me throughout my high school life were stored away in my journals (you will not find my journals, I promise you). I only showed my illustrations and sketches – I never show my poems unless it was something I was extremely proud of.
I do love writing fiction though – I had a map of my imaginary world (Tolkien style – mountains, forests, lakes, ‘This is where ________ lies’, you name it), filled with history and myths. I was deeply attached to my characters, especially my lead heroine, especially as she was transported to a parallel world soon after her 18th birthday to save that parallel world from imploding on itself. I even had a friend of mine draw a phoenix for me so I could use it and its descriptions for my ‘novel’. I never finished it. 😦 My sister and I also wrote fanfiction (mostly Power Rangers, because we were MASSIVE fans of Power Rangers at that age), so I wrote a LOT of stories of that nature before moving here to Perth.
I wrote several short stories during high school as part of my English assignments (I had way too much fun writing them, although they were slightly morbid and emotional in nature). I must admit though, many of the stories were slightly autobiographical in nature, as they mostly reflected the state of my heart and mind. I was hugely inspired by Ray Bradbury – my aunt sent me ‘Fahrenheit 451‘ several years ago and that book shifted my paradigm. I wrote another short story in honour of him.
I read Fahrenheit 451 again about a week ago, and it continues to amaze and fascinate me.
These days, I usually channel my creative writing juices into songwriting instead, being the musician that I am. I write fiction or non-fiction, or reflections, only when I’m struck by inspiration or a lightning-bolt-idea, or when I come across a particularly interesting writing challenge like this one:
Other than that, I write for the fun of it, or when my fingers are feeling a little itchy.
(I still journal though – less illustrations, less designs, but more songs. My sister made me a TARDIS journal, in honour of our current favourite TV show Doctor Who. I love it.)
My dear fellow bloggers – what’s YOUR story? 🙂
D x ❤ ❤ ❤