WE ALL HAVE STORIES TO TELL
My journey began when I was in high school. I was a literary editor for the school newspaper. I had all the tools necessary. I was taking a class in journalism and had all the support of my friends. I was learning a lot. The editor-in-chief was tough and wanted everything at her desk when she wanted it, when she needed it, or when the deadline required it. She also happened to be my best friend. So that made things a little easier, since in high school, friendship goes a long, long way. I was assigned the task of writing poems. But there was one problem–I didn’t know how to write them. I just wasn’t good at it (Trust me, I tried). So my best friend wrote them for me. Meanwhile, I wrote news articles (Yes, very straightforward stuff, very research-oriented). It was a little unimaginative, but to me, it came naturally. It was a far cry from poetry, but it was writing, nonetheless.
In college, I studied mathematics. I was engrossed with differential equations and proving theorems all day and all night, five days a week. My life was all about numbers, calculations, linear algebra, and various data and numerical analyses, but I found myself yearning for something that had soul, something that could translate figures into emotions, scenery, and life. One summer, I embarked on a journey I will never forget. I decided to take an English class. I remember when my professor had brought two books with her that day and had told us to get them after class. She was the one who would inspire me to read children’s books. But I got distracted soon after. I began to work during my last semester, and work slowly began to drain my energy. Social life became so busy that I lost track of creativity for my own benefit. Little by little, I started to forget about the world of writing.
Four years ago, I revisited my old flame (writing that is)*, trying to see if I can rekindle a love affair of days gone by, and it did for a while, for about two years. I began to write a children’s book. What began as one became two followed by a third. They were to be part of my hexalogy (a six-part series, for those who are wondering). I thought if I was writing for fun, I might as well turn it into a collection. Then I started writing my fourth but finished somewhere in the middle. Having an office job during the day, it is hard when you are only able to write after work and on weekends, so I took every opportunity I can to write when I can. It was–and still is–a difficult task. But, once again, it lied undisturbed in the shadows for almost a year until today.
Now, I am rediscovering the art of reading and writing and vowing to continue what I started. I am undertaking an oath to myself and to my family and friends to never again abandon this craft and to wholeheartedly sacrifice anything I can to make time for something I truly love and feel at peace with.
-A. A. Spelling, May 2014 (*revised June 13, 2014)
*P.S. Good news! I have begun writing poems. I am starting a series called Poetry 101 and will feature some of my poetic creations. So now I don’t have any excuse, whatsoever, to say I have never written one. Hope to share some very soon 🙂
August 14, 2015: Yes, it has been four years. I am still writing. Work life has consumed most of my daily life, but my promise to forge ahead with the writing is still there. The blog is going strong. To date, I have posted over 50 poems and songs and have started a mural photography project where I post urban/street art on certain days of the week. City life can be very taxing, but this keeps me going.