Blog surfing and/or blogging is my daily compulsion. For me, it’s equivalent to reading the newspapers or sitting on the throne. Something that I need to do everyday, first thing in the morning, I should add. Otherwise, the day would have begun on an incomplete note. So I’d waltz in to the office between 9.45 a.m. and 10 a.m. and turn on my laptop, hum to myself while I made my usual mug of Milo (no sugar, no milk- just 3 big heaped teaspoons of Milo, fantastic!) and once my computer had loaded, I’d start surfing blogs. Usually, I’d start with mine to see if anyone dropped in or made any comments. And then I’d move on to my other friends’ blogs. Takes me 15 minutes or less to do my normal morning blog rounds, and then I’d get started on work. Towards the evening, if I have the time and if I want to take a break from my workload (which I usually do), I’d usually post an entry.
So, a while ago, I started surfing blogs. And stumbled across a whole host of gems. Blogs by local writers. Full-fledged writers who had already had some of their work published, or were in the midst of getting published. What an eye-opener it was for me. Plowing through some of these blogs, I realized that a lot of them started from humble beginnings. And persevered throughout. And now, found ultimate satisfaction in what they did best: writing.
And all the while when I read through these blogs, I laughed, I empathized, and most of all, I thought to myself, “This could be me“. Look what these people have achieved. Through sheer hard work, passion for their art and a rooted sense of perseverance. They all write beautififully, ALL of them. I was blown away: from the humour and wit I read in each line, the deep sense of finding their place in this world, the tragedy and drama. What wonderful writers Malaysia has produced. We do, indeed, have a tremendous lot to be proud of, and I can’t wait to rush out to MPH or Borders and start searching the aisles for books written by our local authors.
Which also brings me to another question: How can I measure up against these heavy-weights? They’re brilliant- all of them, and some of them are even younger than I am. If this is what it takes to be a real writer, I would fall short of the expectations. Would I be able to make it? I don’t know if I have talent. I don’t know if I’m creative. I’m not extremely profound, or smart, or witty. But I do know that I love to write. Is that enough?
Lots of fish out there in the sea, brilliant, brilliant fish, to boot. If I could but have a sliver of a glimpse into the success and contentment they have achieved, I’d be eternally grateful.