Into The Desert

Into The Desert.

My poem, “Desert Mother”, is in it. I am quite excited about this!

Writing the Wolf.

My urban fantasy series has wolves in them. Wolves in Singapore, not the ones caged up in the zoo – but wolves walking amongst us, by all means, looking like us humans.

Yet, when they transform, they become full wolves. Four-footed and possessing wolf senses. If they concentrate, they can remain human-lucid. They are not the typical werewolves we see in the movies and TV: the savage half-wolf, half-man. In fact, their own version of the boogeyman (or wolf) is the hybrid and monster half-man, half-wolf.

For me, I have long been a lover of the wolf. I even see myself as a wolf… at least, metaphorically. So when it comes to writing the wolf, I try to write as authentically as possible. I have wolf reference books. I read up. I want my wolves to be real.

The wolves in Singapore have adapted to the tropical island-state with its humidity and blistering heat. No four seasons – only very subtle changes in the weather as the year changes. They are also Chinese wolves. So their own communal celebrations are tied to the Chinese lunar calender and cultural traditions. Like their wild brethren, they love celebrating as a pack. Family. Clan.

I am still building their world. The world of the Lang.

Why We Write.

Why do we write? Because we are writers. We write from the soul, from the heart and from the mind, from the very fiber of our being. We write because writing is the only way we know how to communicate with the world, our language, our lingua franca, our bridge to Life.

We write, because we know that we are called to do so. In our hearts, we simply know and write as much as we can. We write, because we are breathing, eating, sleeping and everything in between. Writing is air. Writing is food, is nourishment that feeds our souls, bodies and minds.

There are people who will say that writing is not work.

No. Writing is work. Writing is energy. Writing is psychological, spiritual, emotional and physical energy. Writing is perseverance, inspiration and creativity rolled into one, pressed into palimpsets and with our very life essence. Writing is pain. Writing is travail. Writing is climbing a mountain. Writing is peering from the edge of a sinkhole and leaping straight into it. Writing is soaring up into the skies. Writing is spelunking through the universes. Writing is worldbuilding. Writing is meeting old friends and seeing new ones, conquering demons (self and created) and slaying our own dragons. Writing is. Writing simply is.

Some people will try to mould us to their image. Hard prune us, fit us into their little boxes. We become bonsais, triangles in square holes and cookie-cut fit for someone else’s vision. They are wrong. We have our own vision. We write. We are writers.

Write on.

Keeping at it

When I started work (once more), my writing took a backseat. My creativity was channeled towards work-related writing. I was determined to go back to (proper) writing.

Gosh, it was hard. Downright hard. I would stare at the computer screen and words trickled out. Not a torrent. Not a flood. A trickle. On good days, I get a tiny stream.

Why am I writing this post?

Keep at it.

No matter how frazzled you are with your dayjob, keep at it. But be gentle to yourself. Know your limits. I stare at the computer the whole day and when I get home, I am just too tired to face another computer screen. So I do other things, like gardening or just plain chilling.

But writing is a discipline. Write at least 200. 500 is a bonus.

Easier said than done, you fume at me. Yes, it’s true. Different people work differently. And it’s best not to compare yourself with others. This is your own writing path, not other peoples’.

So, keep at it. Keep on writing.

Help Me Fund – Translation Into Turkish

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