On Writing...

I think I’ve been suffering from the writer’s block recently. It’s not like I have nothing to write about- there had been so many moments when I said to myself “I want to write about this!” or “This will be a blog entry”.

But then the moment passes, and the attempt to start recounting it in words become uninviting. When I force myself to write something, the entry never makes it to publish- because it sounds fake and contrived, and I can never live with myself to taint the authenticity of this little space.

Which is why I have a profound respect for the columnist- well not without some doubts at how real they are of course. How do they write these paragraphs week after week? Sure, of course life is interesting and there is much to notice if we would just see. But do they really care about everything they write so much about? Do they not feel tired if they have to try to write about every other thing every day? On days when they just need to break from “smelling the air”, how can they master sufficient emo to deliver something to the readers?

Critics are often too harsh when the quality of writing starts slipping. But how about some recognition for the writer’s perseverance through high and dry times?

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I love the expressions of creativity in the world of media communications. And I believe in uncompromised truth, or being true to oneself- at the very least in the moment of delivery. That to me is the beauty of the reported media- other than the church, this is the only other place in this world where a premium or stake is placed on the truth. But of course just as the world is fallen, everything else in it is also tainted.

When there is the demand to keep those expressions flowing and reports coming, readership targets to hit, and personal interests at stake, journalists may be tempted to start doctoring photographs or fabricating news. And writers stick to sure-win formulas and produce books after books that look and sound the same.

And (some) people start hitting the roof when truth is compromised. But to be honest, when all that the industry is telling the writers “Entertain me!”- even with news! How can they blame the producers for giving in? People want their senses to be satisfied, to have scoops, to have coverage 24-7. While we cry foul to being victims of false reports, have we not victimized the journalists with our demands?

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After writing for these couple of years, I need to confess that every author wants an audience. Just as artistic expressions are appreciated in galleries, musical expressions receive applause in performances, written expressions desire some sort of publication and response. So while I try to be “true to myself” as I write, and not let my readers affect the way or what I write, I just want to thank YOU for reading. It still makes me smile to discover a reader of His miry clay every now and then. Thank YOU for caring enough to read.

This is a dedication to my beloved pastor, sister and friend Lijuan who came back home recently. Seeds were perhaps sown years ago when we started partnership in church, but Daddy has taken us on a journey that I could never have dreamt of. And I’m so glad that no matter where life takes us, the fellowship we have in Him will not put our hearts apart, and these days are just the beginning of the real journey…

“And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”