Sign up to EliteSkills

“To be a writer is to spend one hour looking for one world, but making one word more meaning than all the world.”
~The Palatine Poet


The constant clattering of the keyboard could only try to keep up with the mind at work; too often were the ideas so extraordinary and grand that they found themselves lost in translation, with nothing but gibberish to represent what could have been the last original idea. Logic was too easily misplaced in the hands of his addictions¬—wherever the words were coming from, they flowed incessantly, like drugs jolting sweet pleasure into his palms.
I won’t deny it. Writing goes beyond an adjective as simple as “hobby” for me. My crude five-year-old fable about the “good King Tom” and his nemesis, the “Bad King Thomas” were all but a joke; the three-word sentences compounded by five-letter adjectives spelt for nothing but laughter, but the experience was a taste. A taste of the wine between the words, the first sample of escapist ecstasy I’d never be able to shake off. I’ve been hooked ever since—I became a writer.
The years in between paint a mosaic of memories; countless attempts to sort out the meaning of life with my pencil dallying idly above the evening’s math homework, hours in bed tossing and turning with thought in my bed, myriad images all melded into one great canvas called life. Yet no matter how shadowy the hour, how dim the overtones depicted, I always found hints of hope to turn to, and from even the darkest moment, reprieve.
I believe in the magic that takes place on paper, that thoughts and emotions take life. I'm a follower of the faith in which one man can take the twenty-six letters of the alphabet, and transform them into something else. I’m a horseman of an infinite expanse, mounted on imagination, almost waiting for grassy meadows to sprout under my escapism. I'm a devotee to the realm and reality where life is but a passing phase, but words go on forever. I'm an addict to that sensation of joy that fills you when you finally find that one perfect word.
I’m a writer. In moments, I can go anywhere, make anything, and be anyone, all in the blink of my mind’s eye. All I need is the right incantation of adjectives, nouns, and metaphors; I can take anyone else with me—I need only spell. I can tread alongside Frodo and Sam in Tolkien’s trilogy without ever setting my eyes on Elijah Wood, think happy thoughts and fly to Neverland, and save the world a few times over with just enough time to have dinner at seven. Dreams do come true, on this side of the world. Things may seem a little flat at first, but to me the blacks-on-whites create more colors than the rainbow.