As you know, guest bloggers appear on my site twice a month. For the months of August, September, and October, my guests will be discussing the same topic:
When and why did you begin writing?
This week we’ll learn a little bit more about Nthato Morakabi. Thanks, Nthato!
Writing: A Privilege and an Honour
I think a majority of writers start at an early age, and I am no different from the flock. The oldest piece of writing I found was in an old diary when I was between the ages of six and eight. My piece of creative writing featured my own version of the lyrics to the song La Bamba performed by Ritchie Valens in the film of the same name as the song. Something along the lines of “La la la la la Bamba I was born in Soweto.” I imagine my parents dancing to the off-tune vocals of young me while their faces wondered when the madness would stop. It didn’t. I wrote more than just lyrics and in Grade 2 (second grade), I was fast becoming an avid reader.
My reasons for writing have evolved from those formative years and has become a more refined version, something I experienced quite a couple of years ago. But initially, it was for the praise of my parents and teachers. I wrote to please others. I remember freaking out during creative writing because the story I wanted to write ended up with such a large scope it wouldn’t fit the word count, and I would whip up something quickly in the last ten minutes. At least that hasn’t changed, I still can’t keep word counts.
It was in Grade 9 when I really started writing for myself. I was so consumed by the fictional worlds that existed around me that I had to delve into them. If they weren’t big enough I created my own. I spent a lot of time in class writing my stories rather than taking notes; the only thing that helped me pass was my strong short-term memory: study the night before, go to bed, retain what I studied and write exams/tests; forget it all the moment it’s pens down. This was where I started thinking of writing as more than just a hobby; I wanted to be a writer. I had stories man. Tons of stories. I had a file where I kept all my drafts and documents and ideas; any empty notebook immediately became a story book. If I saw a blank page, I saw potential. Of course, I was also frequenting the school library, determined to read every Stephen King, Clive Barker, James Herbert, Dean Koontz and any other horror author I could find. These pulled into my writing. Anime I was watching pulled into my writing. Games I played pulled into my stories. I fell in love with Final Fantasy not only for its amazing CGI (which at that day and age was far ahead of its time) but also for its intriguing stories, characters, and villains.
I look back now and see how my education, upbringing, and circumstances have allowed me to be the writer I am today. It truly is a privilege to sit here and type this out with speedy, proficient keystrokes, to be able to string thoughts together using letters and words formed back in school when I was a young lyrical genius (sarcasm). It’s been quite a journey already and I look forward to enjoying the remaining years achieving my goal of becoming a full-time author – I’m a full-time writer by profession after all.