When I was in the seventh grade, I wrote the first ever piece of literature, it was a poem called ‘The Element’. I remember it because I believed it back then that my poem was the best and it would definitely be featured in the annual school magazine. My English teacher seemed to like it and that was proof enough for me to celebrate. But a year later when I went searching for it in the magazine, it was nowhere to be found.
Of course I didn’t realise it back then but I do realise something over all these years, now that I am a 23-year-old young adult (whatever, I consider myself old) and now I realise that in this journey of dreaming to be a writer I have mostly been offered doubt and ‘maybe next time’. There isn’t a single writing competition that I have won till now, neither do I have a successfully running blog where I am regular, and neither do I have any extraordinary praises for my writings till now. A handful of people have appreciated what I write but they include my English teacher from school, my mother, some of my relatives and a few of my friends. But as I write this, I realise that whoever has read what I write has never said that it wasn’t good. Ah! one happy note to cling to.
Still, still I have the audacity to dream of being a bestselling writer one day and I have managed to complete the first draft of my first writing venture. I have attempted to write fiction because I believe it entails ones creative processes to the fullest and I am nearly on the verge of mailing it to various publishers. But there is one thing that haunts me and that is the lurking fear of failing to achieve what I intend for myself.
This is the best part about calling yourself a writer (even if nobody else does) and that is the fact that no matter how much the world tramples upon you, you still have the resilience to stand up and work on something new with an all together new hope that this time whatever you are writing is going to make a difference.
Well, procrastination is another benefit because I have extended two deadlines already and this time I don’t have any deadline to mail my final draft to the publisher. Still I will hope that my first writing venture posits me as a bestselling novelist in the real world and not just in my eyes.