According to my WordPress, the last time I wrote a self-written blog post was 12 days ago. I’ve been busy with some stuff from last week on.One month ago, I submitted two pieces of Fae Raoirse work off this blog to my writing group faciliator for consideration in an upcoming anthology. I got the encouraging ‘this is great but needs more work’ memo which I spent 4 days rewriting the short in which Fae Raoirse goes to TWG with her cast mates and resubmitting it. Story is; National Library Board is looking to publish an anthology curated by my writing group. Basically what I did was to rewrite everything and ‘add in more plot’ to convert that into actual flash fiction, in which I met creative angst for the first time, as for two days I had no idea how to do just that. In a true bathtub ‘Eureka’ moment, ideas came to me while I happened to be on the toilet. I’m not even making this up, it feels just as cliche to me. I resubmitted last Thursday and if the rewritten piece goes well I just might attain my first published piece. It’s unpaid, but it’ll be something which can be shown to prospective agents for whatever reasons I might come to have in future. Fingers crossed!
I also just submitted my joint-polytechnic admissions exercise application (JPAE) online. It took me 1 year to know what I was truly interested in and now that I’ve submitted my application, I actually feel a little more skittish about it than I originally did. I put mass communication courses as my first three (I’m entitled to put in 8 choices) and my mother’s dream for me (Health Services Management) as the 4th. Health isn’t really my thing nowadays but my mom wanted me to put it in anyway (She wanted me to put it in as first choice actually!), as she thinks it offers broad career prospects in future which are more stable.
At this point I’m not sure if I’m putting in health-related courses to appease my mom or really, as a sensible backup if the doors to studying mass communications don’t open for me. To be honest, A LOT of people around me are more confident about my future as a writer (whatever it is) than I am about it. Even the thought that I actually put Arts and Theatre Management as my third polytechnic course makes me feel like I’m on a narrow cliff.
A lot of people have said a lot of nice things to me about when they came to know that I write. The most recent I got was a distant friend telling me via Whatsapp “You should really consider a career as a writer” after I mentioned that last year I was personally researching psychopathy and sociopathy for a story idea I’ve been developing. At that point of time I once listened to a recording at 2am of how psychopaths view the world right before I went to sleep. I wonder what that says about my own psyche, but I digress.
I could mentally write a story and tell myself either way that people say all that because a) they actually see my unseen potential in that area b)they’re just oblivious to how hard it is to break into the writing sector. By now I am aware that not all writing gigs are paid and the effort it takes to end up being paid adequately just to write, let alone getting to a point where people get a sense of deja vu when they see your name on any written work. I could tell myself either story a) or b) and be convinced of either’s supposed truth. Truth teeters on looking fallacious at times, and crossroads in life such as these are an ultimate example.
It’s a common saying that waiting period tests faith, as the mind is constantly in limbo between positive and negative perspective. Just an hour ago I actually realised I was actually eligible for another polytechnic’s mass communication course where they offer creative writing as an elective, had I applied with my GCE O Level cert last month Only catch was I hadn’t gotten known of that course when the application period for O Level holders was open. Similarly, I could interpret this either way- as a missed opportunity or as a firmly closed door that the course isn’t meant for me. Right now I’m just praying that God will lead me to where I’m supposed to be, to whatever course will suit me the most. I’ve been waiting for 1 year +.
If my life seems to resemble fishing that’s how it’s been like for a while. Waiting and not knowing if a fish which takes the hook will come by. All this shall pass, though, and hopefully soon. I don’t think this is said enough but after 1 year +, waiting things out is a very accurate litmus test for patience and a heart posture of surrender and letting go.