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These words are my own :.

May 30, 2007

From when I was little, I had grand illusions of becoming a journalist.. well, at least I dreamed about doing whatever it was that Kermit the frog did when he was on ‘Sesame Street News.’

I was told that he was a reporter, and I had to be a good writer to become one.. That wasn’t a problem.. I had been writing little stories since.. I can’t remember.. And because I practically devoured books from cover to cover, the English language wasn’t really a problem.

When I was 12 or 13, my mom bought a new computer, she gave me her old one.. I’ve forgotten what the name of it was.. I just remember it was a text based OS, and I really only had use for the word processing software. The damn thing took ages to boot, and it clicked, whirred and groaned loudly as it came to life.. It served it’s purpose to me well though, to record my early wordsmithery.

I would write late into the night, often ’til two or three in the morning, working on what I thought then was the most amazing space story that would ever be known to man.. I still have copies of the dot matrix printer pages today, but it’s a little painful to read because well, as you get older you realise, that maybe some of the stuff you wrote was just maybe a little OTT. But back then, it was my reason for getting by day to day, I often scribbled plotlines in the margins of my school work and couldn’t wait to get back to write the new chapter, or the next page. I think it may have been at least, 12,000 words.. It was a labour of love that took 3 years, endless sleepless nights, and a child’s wild imaginations and dreams that one day she would walk among the stars. I guess my love for science fiction started early, without me really knowing it.

As I grew older, I started writing more and more.. starting new stories almost on a weekly basis.. Churning out a page here and there, writing a paragraph of a potential plotline of stories that would never be finished.. I possibly now have over a hundred files, mostly Notepad ones, of little bits of plot, dialogue or just a line or two of an idea that flitted through my head and I just had to get it down. I even have some fictional articles that I wrote, practicing my potential craft, so that I may one day win the ‘Pulitzer Prize.’

My love for writing, and my interest in journalism go hand in hand.. I found myself becoming one of the editors of my school newsletter (crawling up from the ranks of reporter) back in high school, and later on worked on the journal at my boarding school.. I studied Journalism at university.. It was just another stepping stone on the way to the ‘big dream.’

Today, I am not a journalist. I’ve become a ‘Teacher’ of sorts.. but I have to admit, it’s such a personally fulfilling thing, touching little peoples’ lives, and hopefully inspiring them to greatness. I don’t regret the changes of direction my life has taken me.. because I get to help people. But there’s some part of me that will always feel the twinge for the chase of the story, the urgency of getting from script to copy, chopping and changing words on a story to get the right feel and tone. There will always be that journalist/editor in me.. That dream has not died.. neither has the possibility.

I just have bigger plans on the horizon.. One day, I will become not just a writer/editor.. but a publisher.. this is just a side journey that’s preparing me for the bigger one.

So life may take you where in wants to.. But never lose sight of what you really want. Just because you get sidetracked, or taken in a different direction, doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to give up the dream.. maybe it’s a different way to the dream.. you never know.

So I tell myself.. But it will never stop me writing, plotting…

The clicks of my keyboard tell me so.

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