“There is nothing to
writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
― Ernest Hemingway
“Mommy, for some
reason, your blogs make me cry,” my son always tells me. “Well, some of them make me laugh. But most
of them make me cry.”
I always tell him that it’s ok to cry. And that the reason
why he cries is because he is now more in touch with his emotions, and he has
become more sensitive to people and to their feelings. “It’s ok to feel that way,” I would assure him. He doesn’t have to
feel bad or embarrassed. There's nothing wrong with being moved by words. After all, he is the son of two writers. Who would
argue with that?
Caehl said he stumbled upon my blog while he was checking
out the bookmarked pages in his tablet’s internet browser. He saw my “Brow Job”
blog and became curious so he clicked on it, and he was hooked since then. He
reads my blogs like crazy. Sometimes he would fall silent and then I would find
him on the verge of tears. He would try to control his tears, but I would always
comfort him and say it’s all right for him to cry. He also says some of my
blogs would trigger memories and events. “Do
you know why I’m asking about (a specific event)? It’s because of your Chances
Are (Valentine’s) blog,” he once
said. Sometimes he would laugh out loud. Funny
daw kasi yung ibang entries. I jokingly advised him one night to just focus
on the funny blogs so he won’t end up crying.
My blogs have always been from the heart and soul. A
combination of drama and comedy. Which is the person that I am. That’s why
sometimes it takes me quite a while before I could write one. Because I write
from my heart and from my soul. Even if I
did not experience or go through it firsthand. Most of the time, my readers
think that I am talking about myself or narrating my experience. Especially if
it’s about a sad topic. "May
pinagdadaanan ba si Pam?" Because that's how I write. You can see through me. To make them
real, I have to internalize or tap into the pain itself. Sometimes I am too subjective or personal to a fault. I can't detach myself
or my feelings from my writings. I wear my heart on my sleeve. People who know
me well know that. It's difficult for me to hide what I feel. Sometimes I feel
it's a disadvantage. But when I try to be impersonal, I am not satisfied with
my output. Parang pilit, parang kulang.
Parang nagkukunwari. In fact, I have a lot of unpublished blogs. Yung iba, puro umpisa lang. Some, puro
ending. When I’m not satisfied with my output, I just discard it. I admit that I'm really better off writing
short fiction because there, I could afford not to be objective. Fiction nga eh.
But I stopped writing fiction for a while. Oh yeah, it's been a
long while. When I was in high school and college, and a few years after graduation, I would produce short
stories like chickens lay eggs. And an occasional poem or two. And that was
even the time when typewriters were our best friend. You could imagine how
difficult it was. I was paid by magazines for my stuff. Real money. Checques
would arrive in the mail just like that. Cool huh? Of course, that was just a
bonus. Getting paid for doing what you love. The real fulfillment comes from
seeing your work published on honest-to-goodness magazine pages. Something that
old-school and traditional writers like me would understand. And of course, the
pride of seeing your name on print. And getting pats on the back. My dad used
to buy many copies so he could distribute them to his friends. There was even a
time when one of his friends asked him, “Leo, have you been telling your
daughter about me? I could see myself in her story.” And that was a story which
I wrote from a dream.
And that’s the other reward- when people tell you they’ve
read what you wrote and that they enjoyed it. Like how my son is appreciating
my blogs now. Sadly, I don’t have the time (and the patience) to go back to
fiction writing. My husband still tries. But I know he is too busy for that. I
still dream of writing a novel someday. Maybe someday. In the meantime, I get a
kick out of writing blogs like this. And it makes me happy when people like
what I write. Thank you so much, my dear readers. I don’t think I need to come up
with a reason why I continue to do so. God gave me this gift. I live and
breathe words. And I will write (and bleed) forever.
~TheGoodGirl
