A freshman's tips on writing
Stay away from Facebook. This was the piece of advice that I got from a senior student before my first year in the university. I thought he would refer to the students who were lucky to spend their gap year in a foreign land. I found out too late that it was the happy faces in social media after the exam results. It made me green with envy. Despair became part of my vocabulary. I was unaware that I would make fans.
Many people asked me if I would become a writer because (a) I was a student of the English Department; (b) I had the ability to captivate others; (c) I would start my day with a short walk; or (d) I never stopped writing. It could be any of the items, it would be all of it. I almost forgot my annoying habit of reading aloud what I wrote in my journal. (My housemates were amused, but it didn't take long before they wished that I was living elsewhere.) I was coy to give an answer, even if I knew that my few years in the university would be the best time to be a writer.
My tutor told me that writer's block don't exist at all, which was synonymous with laziness or lack of preparation. It terrified me, as I want to hang out with other students. They would make me laugh, even gave me ideas for my papers. It just showed that studying literature could be very, very hard. I learned about Charles Darwin's routine, while he penned "On the Origin of Species". There were frequent strolls. He would loaf during the afternoon. His wife was his avid listener. I tried it, and it seemed to work for a while. And then the deadlines came in succession. I passed up parties. I started to sleep badly.
What have I learned from my first year in the English Department? I could share the following:
Writing enhances my enjoyment of novels. I found it out during Reading Week. (I thought I was dead tired after beating deadlines and studying for examinations. It turned out to be the opposite.) I learned many ideas from authors. Vocabulary would be another thing, but I was grateful for laptops and the Internet. I almost forgot cinema. I wanted to watch more films, and I wasn't thinking of superheroes.
Write for a single person. In this case, it will be my instructors. I put too much pressure on myself, as being mindful of grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure could be tiresome. It turned out that I was on the right track. (Write drunk, edit sober.) I wished for a better grade in some of my papers, but this was part of the learning curve.
A writer is a feeling creature who has some thoughts. I was hoping that my instructor would laugh or cry (while reading my paper), but I wouldn't know. I could assume after reading his remarks. I wondered if I could change his emotional state, which would be a compliment. I might find out when I decided to embark on a full-time writing career while supplementing my income from teaching and coaching. It seemed like a harsh reality, but there won't be any other way.
I'm the hero of my journey. I would feel good about it, but I only have one reader for now. I was starting to suspect that I could be my own worst critic, so I would imagine how a positive response from readers could make me more prolific.
Social media have some benefits. Unless I am Stephen King, then traditional advertising doesn't guarantee a bestseller. Social media may not be the right venue to find new readers, I can imagine myself engaging my followers. (I might post lots of photos of Da Vinci, my mother's pet Persian cat.) And they would be curious about my lifestyle and creative techniques. My lips were sealed.
