Write the Emptiness Away

I don’t know why and how people become writers as they are. But for me, I think I was born with it (the writer in me). No, I was not able to read or write earlier than any other children, if that’s what you think. I was just an ordinary child, with a little extraordinary amount of questions in my head. So, in that era, we read newspapers or books to know about a lot of things. So then I read. I started with Enyd Blyton’s The Famous Five. Yes, until now, I’m still that mystery lover. The idea about revealing what is hidden just excites me.

I’m not sure which one is the cause and which one is the effect. Does reading make me want to write or does writing make me want to read? All I know is, the desire to write lingers, like, all the time. I wrote my first novel when I was in high school. It was another version of the Famous Five. It wasn’t published. The readers were my sisters and a few close friends of mine. I was happy. But then, time went by, and I grew up, realizing many, many facts that I didn’t know exist before. My awareness woke me up to meet numerous painful truths, one of which is the ultimate question: how on earth am I gonna pay my bills by only writing novels? The calculation just doesn’t make it.

So I decided to keep my feet on the ground, where the possibility of falling is next to never.

I switched my focus to my jobs, the one that made ends meet for me. Until I got weary, and worse, I felt empty. Having to use my energy for something that I don’t even believe is a total nightmare. My career was somehow stuck before I reached any peaks. But I was fine with that since I can use a time-off to reconsider my purpose in life. So I started writing again, to escape from the emptiness that filled my days. Diary entries, blogs, poems, short stories, just anything that inspires me. Thus I got excited and fulfilled, but it didn’t kill the monster. The fearful and doubtful little me keeps whispering those ugly facts. I wanted to write, yes, but for what purpose? Who will read what I write? Many, if not most, writers fail to gain success in terms of their books sales. I know I read so little books myself in a year, especially after dedicating my time and energy to my day jobs. Only a handful writers reach me, while there are a universe of them. There are books more than the world can read. Why bother adding another book, just to be wasted?

Those unbearable thoughts indeed stopped me from writing for a while. Until I reached a peak in that career that feeds me, just to find out that I don’t share the same belief with the people there...

So here’s why you and I should just continue writing.

Because the world is crazy, and writing will keep us from insanity. You are the master of your writing. You write what you believe.

If it’s in you, it will stay with you wherever you go. Of course you can just ignore it and pretend it’s not there. Or... you can answer it and let it fulfill you with the glorious feeling no other can give.

Worst case, if nobody reads what you write, at least you yourself read it. Toni Morrison says, “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Guess you’re the most important person who must read what you write.

But hey, once it’s out there, you never know who will cross their paths with it. The world is full of possibilities. Some people may just be destined to receive the message you convey through your books.

Yes, there are countless books in the world and there are countless writers also. But trust me, no one writes like you do.

F. Suriana