I started writing in secondary school, either Js1 or 2. I can’t really say now.
I can’t also really remember if I wrote anything before then but I know the first major writing I did was Paradise Husband, which I admit was actually influenced largely by a movie I watched.
However it ushered me into the world of writing, even though I didn’t take it as serious as most of my colleagues in school then.
After secondary school, I kind of went on a writing strike; I can’t tell you which of us was the aggrieved party.
All I know is throughout university I didn’t particularly write anything.
However I still had an understanding that I was meant to be friends with my pen and paper, I remember talking about publishing a book someday – this isn’t really the story for today.
Then during the infamous 2013 six months strike, I reconnected with Phoebe Omiwole and she reminded me why I started writing and needed to write – this isn’t the story either, sorry I’m rambling.
Now to the main story, I resumed writing again and it was almost like I never left. The romance with words gave me some sort of fulfillment that I didn’t find with anything else. I was in my moment, so much so I didn’t notice when I started missing it till it hit me so hard.
It took a while to notice I had lost my vibe. I started struggling and hitting incessant writer’s block, even my ever imaginative imaginations fell out with me.
I discovered the words were no longer coming; catch phrases that easily came to me were nowhere to be found.
Where was my knowledge when I needed it? You guessed right, it had deserted me too.
I couldn’t believe it, I had become rusty.
Needless to say, I panicked. I had not somehow lost my talent now, have I?
So I went to my number one help. I called God the names I know He bears, asking for His help.
He must have decided to have compassion on me because one day, answer came.
I was bored to my wits on this particular night. No friend to chat with, no new Facebook notification to peruse. So I decided to go through my blog to while away time and while reading I couldn’t believe they came from me.
Let me state here that I am not trying to be conceited, but just trying to prove a point.
I wondered how I could have written those articles and now struggle to write a paragraph.
In my musing, it dawned me that I had not read anything major in close to two months.
I had forsaken Sidney Sheldon books, the master story teller, left my Nora Roberts with her distinct sense of humour. In summary I was flouting a major rule in the writers’ constitution, writing without reading.
By the time I resumed writing after my break, I had been doing a lot of reading, hence the ease. When I was also writing some of the previous articles, I was reading simultaneously.
So while I was giving out of myself, I was replenishing. And presently, I have given out so much without getting any back. I was drained.
Whatever your hands find to do, make sure you are learning just as much as you are doing. There is a time to learn and a time to work, both are equally important. If you pay little attention to receiving knowledge, some day you will have nothing to work with.
I understand time seem limited most days and you have so much to accomplish in 24 hours, but if you don’t take out time to learn, you would get stuck at some point. There is a reason why seed time and harvest time will never cease, it is because if you keep sowing without reaping, one day, you will have nothing to sow.
What you are doing doesn’t really matter, so you don’t tire people with the same oldies, take time out, go online, get books related to your field, listen to people and learn new ways.
Don’t be afraid of that unproductive period you take to replenish lost virtue, you would come out stronger than your counterparts who take learning for granted.
I am taking my own advice. So bye, writing, I am going to sit still and learn from the best story tellers. #notstoppingtillIgetmymojoback