by | | Her, On-Writing
After reading a writing lecture “Breaking The Mold”, I realised that this is my 10th year of blogging as a writer. My short stories and poetry has changed and shifted as I evolved my writing style and techniques. I was doing it purely out of hobby and gratification as a confused young adult. To admit, I had a pretty messed up teenage life, along with my wayward friends. The most traumatizing of all is having to accompany a girlfriend to an abortion clinic. She was 15 years old. The scan revealed a healthy baby body, on its third trimester. She wanted an abortion. I told her not to. It is a living life. It is beyond my principles (I was 15 years old as well), and I felt that she could give it up for adoption. There are many couples who would love a child. She asked me one final time to accompany her to the hospital for a abortion. I declined respectfully, saying I do support her decision to do so, but it is beyond my principles to participate.
These life experiences fuel my growth and evolution in my mindset and principles. After that incident, I became more interested in history, particularly World War Two. I excelled naturally in Geography, History and Economics while in school. My teachers started to notice the quality of my acute observations and writing skills. They encouraged me to write more, to publish a book. I was a rebel, and I hated following rules and the status quo. I left for Australia, to be free. It is after freedom from restraint of being told what to do, and how to write, that I finally discover my inner voice. The inner voice that calls my name, Averal. It is an angelic name, given to me in my dreams.
After taking an elective in Gender Studies, I am more aware of gender roles in modern society and what it means to be a man/woman. I won’t call myself a feminist either. I like men as providers (naturally, because they have hunter instincts), however, I think women should be independent as well. It is only after taking that module, that I realise what I want out of life for my partner and I. Do I want to be a housewife? A career woman? No, actually no. I am quite a simple person, really. I just need personal space and time, to explore my interests, while, being financially free. I don’t need to own the latest BMW iSeries (although it is tempting). With material pursuits, there are sacrifices to be made. A woman’s youth does not stay forever. I prefer to explore myself creatively and freely. The keyword, is to be free. And freedom, comes with a price.
I like that the new media (internet) as allowed writers to experiment creativity without much restraint. We do not have to be published by the mainstream, we can be independent. In fact, just by starting a free journal on blogger allows us to be instantly published and accessed by people whom we do not know, thereby maybe, creating a reputation or name for ourselves in the community who are interested in the genre.
I like using unusual formats and poems/prose to communicate a story or meaning, or both in-between. I try to experiment with style where consciousness meets the subconscious. Time bending is a very interesting trend I am seeing in contemporary fiction, as well as movies. In the recent movie, Platinum Rush (2012) a group of bikers delivers express mail around Manhattan, beating traffic lights and riding dangerously on the crowded roads and streets. It starts from a car crash, back to how it happened, then to the part after the crash, and the hands of the clock are spinning along when the direction changes. We can learn, as novelists/writers to bend time at our will to bring our readers for a spin for a lifetime, especially when writing thrillers. James Patterson is able to use this style with ease.
I am glad that more writers and artists are breaking the mold and we are seeing leaps and bounds of progress even right now. Banksy, a graffiti artist, genius or political rebel, we do not know, there is no more stereotypes left. We can be all that we want to be, as long we portray the right message we want our readers understand.
by | | On-Writing
The challenge of being a writer is consistency, consistency to write daily and honestly without holding back his emotions. In every written word and story, he has to convey the most honest truths hidden deep in himself, and reveal it to the world in a wide variety of persona and alter egos. Making it acceptable, and entertaining for others to read and enjoy, the beauty of the subliminal truths of the human race. The stories entering deep into their subconsciousness, governing their actions, and maybe, changing the world for the better.
During the French Revolution, philosophers wrote of a new world of democracy with no kings or queens. The bourgeoisie (middle class) acted on the writings, not quite sure if this fantasy world of power to the people would actually work, but they tried anyway. Thanks to the French, we have the freedom of speech today, and social classes are melting away with equal opportunities of advancement through the idea of meritocracy instead of birthright.
It is deeply motivating to know that writing, can indeed change the world. In the book Wired for Story (2012) it shares that “Writers are, and always have been, among the most powerful
people in the world.” When I look back at my personal philosophy of life and how I govern my code of conduct on a daily basis, I can trace it to back to books I have read as a child, or teachings in textbooks, and they are no other, written by writer’s themselves. Their ideology incorporated into their writings, interweaving it into a beautiful theme and central idea that they wish to convey to the unaware.
I naturally am inclined to analyse the idea that the writer is trying to convey in new literature that I read, and to understand them better, I do a biography check on their family history, their experiences in life, and it translates that their greatest fictional works are a reflection of what they are in real life. For example, JK Rowling was a single mother, with a young child in one hand, and at the same time, facing grievances of her own mother who had passed away. In her book, Harry Potter, she portrays a teenage boy who is an orphan and is ill treated by his own relatives, only to find a lost part of his past in the world of magic. In contrast, it is reflective of what JK Rowling feels at the moment of time, she wants to escape into another world, a world of magic, where anything can happen (she wrote about a housewife character who could use magic to wash the dishes!). However, she is trapped in a situation so dire, living on welfare payouts, having to take care of her daughter and being unable to work as a single mother. As university graduate, she wants OUT of her situation, and be independent, but her circumstances forces her to come face to face with her life through her books – her single hood, the lost of her mother, revealed in the pages of Harry Potter, the orphan.
Mark Twain shares, “Truth is stranger than fiction”. It is indeed true that the writer’s works are a reflection of what he or she is going through, or empathizing with at the moment of time. A writer’s greatest gift is the gift of honesty to his own emotions. Without emotions, we are unable to write. After Arthur Miller, a famous playwright, fell in love with Marilyn Moore and was heart broken, he did not write for years. Love can indeed bring the downfall of a writer, whose works are linked with emotions. A neuroscience writer Jonah Lehrer says, “If it weren’t for our emotions, reason wouldn’t exist at all.”
Some of my poetry had been inspired by other movies and experiences of my own, and people whom I empathize with deeply, their struggles, lost of love, their views on the world. Every day is magical to me, I wake up to a world of colours, of different perceptions, different cultures, different values, which interests my senses, and I seek to understand and explore them deeply.
I am finally at peace on accepting my calling, as one.
by | | Her, On-Writing
There were days.. I would sit in front of my keyboard with a blank white screen. Nothing comes out from my finger tips. My tormented mind, wanting to reveal the truth, anger screams in my head… “Out with it… OUT with it…” My fingers, frozen still, unable to move an inch.
On nights like this… I cry myself to sleep…
Nothing is more frustrating than being unable to express my emotions…
On days like this, I hate myself deeply.
I hated myself so much, that I broke my core into two – the Artist and Logic.
—-
Logic tells me, I should be working hard. I should make more money, like all my peers – build a career, acquire the latest gadgets, look pretty and attract the right guys… be socially acceptable like all the others. “Don’t move out of your comfort zone! It is dangerous. It is going to kill you. You have to stay alive!” Listen to Logic, he is always right. He will protect you.
You will be accepted, Logic promises me.
—–
The Artist tells me, break free of control. “You are so controlled, look at your anxiety levels, its spiraling out of the roof. You can’t sleep at night, you can’t write as you used to, you can’t… be yourself. You have to be free… you have to let go. Be yourself. Trust me. I know what your heart wants. I know that not everyone is going to accept you, and see who you really are. I reassure you, you are beautiful inside, and if they can’t see it in you, you should care less.”
You will be happy and at ease, the Artist promises me.
—-
For years, I faced them daily. They are always in my mind. I continued to ignore my the Artist. I grew numb to the emotions. I grew numb to pain. I climbed the career ladder, and played the twisted game of life…
For centuries, I tried and tried
To reach the top of the mountain
The mountain Logic told me to climb,
Thinking, when I get there, I will find my happiness.
I finally reached the top.
I was barely breathing,
exhausted from the tough journey.
To my dismay;
It was empty.
There was nothing at the top.
Just more emptiness.
My reality crashed.
It was a lie.
It was unreal
All the things they taught in school
All the things they told me to do
They all lead to… nothing.
…
That is the story of my life. The pain I went through, seeking for something I did not find. I pressed the reset button. I am back at square zero. I started a new life, and made new resolutions.
You were right all along, Artist. I should have listened to you.
I looked back at my journey, and realise that Logic taught me many lessons:
1) There is no right or wrong.
2) Logic cannot be trusted.
3) I should trust my instincts
4) I should not care less to be socially accepted or whatever.
5) At the end of it all, in the craze of the material world, there is only emptiness.
As part of my new resolution, I drew up several things:
1) I will not hold back, I will be who I am 100%
2) I will not be affected by what people think of me
3) I will continue in my exploration of life
4) I will do what my heart tells me to do, from this moment on.
I am… finally at ease with The Artist.
