Some people would say I'm a good writer. I'm not.
I don't even know why I continue writing. Definitely not because I enjoy it. I don't.
Probably because I am compelled to do so. Forced, actually.
It's been ten years since I've started believing that I'm destined to be a writer. I was first a short story writer. I won this award when I was in grade 4 when I wrote a story about a boy and a talking cow, chatting about their problems. I forgot the details. But the recognition inspired me to continue writing. Every recognition will do that to you. It just so happened that a best writer award will show you the clear path that you should take, as compared to a best in mathematics award that will make you wonder what you're supposed to do with it.
I was then a playwright. I wrote several scripts in high school, from 5 minute skits to stage adaptations of Florante and Noli to an original two-act play about the Philippine history. I was even a screenwriter once, writing the script of our high school class' final film project. I remember writing this particular script using a typewriter. Just to have that cool typewriter font. Much to my disappointment when I found out that you can download and install one in MS Word.
I wrote poems. For a short time I thought I was a good poet. Then I realized I don't even know what exactly poetry is. What I know is that the rhyming phrases that you think about when you're in love or broken-hearted or sad aren't poems. Well, maybe they are. It's just that, well, how the hell would you know that when you don't know what exactly poetry is?
I wrote several essays, mostly for my composition subjects. I even enrolled to an essay writing course in college. I got some recognitions, I think. One of the most memorable is the remark of my former professor, urging me to continue writing because, according to her, I have the potential to be a good writer. For years her words inspired me, but that's before I found out she don't remember who I am.
For years I blogged. Personal thoughts, rants and other things. I developed this emotional style of writing I called emopinions. Emotional opinions, that is. I made a small dent in the blogosphere (in multiply, actually). I made a few friends, which is basically the best thing I got from writing. I made enemies, of course. One or two, or even ten would tend to hate you when all you write about are angsts and anger and death and despair. And then I grew up. And then I realized I am not the only person who has problems. I failed to write a post for a week. Then a month. Then a year.
I never lost my angst. Or my anger. Or my despair. They just became too personal that I don't want other people to know them.
I focused on national issues. I posted several opinions on this or that issue. Back then it was easy for me to form an opinion. It was easy to say that I don't like this or that policy. The problem is that a lot of people write about that. Why read mine when you can read a better one on a more credible site? And then at some point it was all about readership. And when I realized that no one's reading my posts, I decided to stop blogging and limit my writing in the school publication.
I've always been a journalist. I used to like writing news and all those kind of stuff. I thought the only challenge was to beat the deadline. Then came criticisms of my poor analysis and understanding of the issue. Then came the realization that no matter how hard I try, I'm not improving.
At some point I'll just stop. Angst. Anger. Despair.
And then I will be forced to try again because I don't have anything to do other than writing. After all, it's too late to look for that best in mathematics award and wonder if there is another path that I could take.
I don't even know why I continue writing. Definitely not because I enjoy it. I don't.
Probably because I am compelled to do so. Forced, actually.
It's been ten years since I've started believing that I'm destined to be a writer. I was first a short story writer. I won this award when I was in grade 4 when I wrote a story about a boy and a talking cow, chatting about their problems. I forgot the details. But the recognition inspired me to continue writing. Every recognition will do that to you. It just so happened that a best writer award will show you the clear path that you should take, as compared to a best in mathematics award that will make you wonder what you're supposed to do with it.
I was then a playwright. I wrote several scripts in high school, from 5 minute skits to stage adaptations of Florante and Noli to an original two-act play about the Philippine history. I was even a screenwriter once, writing the script of our high school class' final film project. I remember writing this particular script using a typewriter. Just to have that cool typewriter font. Much to my disappointment when I found out that you can download and install one in MS Word.
I wrote poems. For a short time I thought I was a good poet. Then I realized I don't even know what exactly poetry is. What I know is that the rhyming phrases that you think about when you're in love or broken-hearted or sad aren't poems. Well, maybe they are. It's just that, well, how the hell would you know that when you don't know what exactly poetry is?
I wrote several essays, mostly for my composition subjects. I even enrolled to an essay writing course in college. I got some recognitions, I think. One of the most memorable is the remark of my former professor, urging me to continue writing because, according to her, I have the potential to be a good writer. For years her words inspired me, but that's before I found out she don't remember who I am.
For years I blogged. Personal thoughts, rants and other things. I developed this emotional style of writing I called emopinions. Emotional opinions, that is. I made a small dent in the blogosphere (in multiply, actually). I made a few friends, which is basically the best thing I got from writing. I made enemies, of course. One or two, or even ten would tend to hate you when all you write about are angsts and anger and death and despair. And then I grew up. And then I realized I am not the only person who has problems. I failed to write a post for a week. Then a month. Then a year.
I never lost my angst. Or my anger. Or my despair. They just became too personal that I don't want other people to know them.
I focused on national issues. I posted several opinions on this or that issue. Back then it was easy for me to form an opinion. It was easy to say that I don't like this or that policy. The problem is that a lot of people write about that. Why read mine when you can read a better one on a more credible site? And then at some point it was all about readership. And when I realized that no one's reading my posts, I decided to stop blogging and limit my writing in the school publication.
I've always been a journalist. I used to like writing news and all those kind of stuff. I thought the only challenge was to beat the deadline. Then came criticisms of my poor analysis and understanding of the issue. Then came the realization that no matter how hard I try, I'm not improving.
At some point I'll just stop. Angst. Anger. Despair.
And then I will be forced to try again because I don't have anything to do other than writing. After all, it's too late to look for that best in mathematics award and wonder if there is another path that I could take.
