Thank you, Lin, for reminding me over and over lest I forget. I’m sorry for being forgetful all the time.
I don’t really remember what made me start writing. (forgetfulness!? AGAIN!?) I’m not sure if there was anything special; maybe there was. I don’t remember. I have been passionate about writing for my entire eighteen years of life…and I’ve declared my dream profession (to become a writer) when I was still a child.
I started writing probably because my parents raised me in piles of books. They bought books for me all the time, and naturally I fell in love with words. They always encouraged me to read classics more, rather than reading some useless fantasy. FANTASY IS NOT USELESS.
Anyways. Off topic there. Despite the book kingdom I grew up in, I always feel that writing is something I’m destined to do. I mean, I’ve never wanted to do anything else. Writing is the one and only. There is absolutely no other option for me. Writing = life. I don’t think I can live without it, since it’s been my truest life companion since I was born. It’s part of me. It’s rooted inside of me. It grows daily as I learn something new, something about life, about languages, about how to play with words, about dreams and inspirations.
If writing is a man I’ll marry him. LOL. OK. That sounds weird.
I received a lot of encouragements, too. My mother is pretty good with words, though in a more technical way. I could never have learned English if it wasn’t for my English tutor during the first few years when I came to Canada. My writing teacher teaches me professional writing (in Chinese, though, and I apply it to English as well, and I also get to practice writing in Chinese…)
I have a lot of people to thank. (and they will all be in my “acknolwedgement” page…when I get to publish a book in the future. I’ve always wanted to write an acknolwedgement page…)
A voice in my head: it’ll come. It’ll come.
So yeah, I guess I’m going to be a bilingual writer. If I’m desperate, I can always translate. Both English and Chinese are fascinating and beautiful in their own ways. One cannot be substituted for one another. It’s like Chinese poetry, for example. If you translate it into English, it SUCKS. Same with English poems. When it’s translated into Chinese, the entire mood and flavour is lost. Therefore, I am very grateful for having a chance to learn two langauges and to improve them simultaneously.
Am I getting off topic again? Sorry…I’m easily distracted. I pretty much answered the question, right?
And by the way, I think there is a bear in the woods. Right beside my house. I’m scared.
Here are the links for the rest of the week: