Due to my neurological condition, I have had slurred speech since I was a child. Hence, I shied away from speaking in public. So, as a way of expressing my thoughts and feelings, I turned to writing. It served as an avenue to bury my deepest secrets and soothe my growing pains.
My parents were not literature buffs but they bought me whatever books which were available in the Malaysian market then. I learned English from the Peter and Jane series with colourful illustrations. Then, I graduated to Enid Blyton, Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys. They were my childhood escape to places and adventures I could only dream of. That was what inspired me to write stories later in life.
Ironically, I did not even consider majoring in English for my degree because I did what a ‘responsible’ girl would do – get a degree that pays the bills. I opted for a Business degree. I would have chosen to major in English instead if I had known then what I know now.
I guess you can never lie to yourself forever. My desire to write manifested itself at work. I began to gravitate towards jobs that help me hone my craft as a writer – content writer, copywriter and subeditor. It was not until I worked as a storybook editor with a local publisher that I saw the direction I was heading all this time – I wanted to be a fiction writer.
With a little twist of fate, I ended up quitting my day job in April 2012 and going into writing full time. It was risky business as I floated from job to job as a freelance writer but I am glad for wonderful family support.
To date, my short stories have made it to two anthologies. The following are snippets of the stories:
“I wish I could be a statue, unfeeling and without memory. As hard as I try not to think, the currents of my existence keep washing up reality on my shore of consciousness, forcing me to confront the mess I have created. My demons will not leave me alone. And the only escape route I can think of is to jump – but here I sit, unmoving as though willing time to stand still…”
“Flying through the crowd, driven by adrenalin like jet fuel, all the faces I passed were a blur. Their screams of agony gave me pleasure. I was unstoppable. Sensing an imminent attack from my right, I swung my cleaver around to block my enemy’s advance but my arm stayed limp. I looked to find my cleaver lying on the ground, shimmering red in blood. It was only then that I saw blood oozing out from my right sleeve…”
For more information on the anthologies, check out my Goodreads Author Profile.
With God’s blessing, I hope to produce more stories in future to entertain and inspire. So, stay tuned.