The Journey of an Accidental Writer

I’m an accidental writer. Though it sounds cliched, that’s the truth. As a child, I always dreamt of becoming a journalist. I’ve stood for hours in front of the mirror to speak my lines. I have always believed that I have a natural flair for talking. But, when it came to actually choosing a profession, I turned to editing because my journalism dream wasn’t taking off. After editing and managing projects in the publishing industry, I embraced motherhood. Though it was a happy moment, it also meant that I couldn’t go out to work. As I sat thinking about ways to maintain my sanity while life was a tad overwhelming, I hit upon the idea of writing. My logic was this: if I could edit everyone else’s writing, I should be able to write my pieces too. It would just be an extension of the work that I had been doing all along and a change of place (from the editor to the writer). “Not bad,” I thought to myself and took my baby steps into the expansive writing world.

Contrary to my beliefs, it wasn’t easy at all. Writing is not just editing. If that were the case, all editors would have eventually become writers, isn’t it? It takes intense and careful observation of one’s surroundings along with hours of reading to write well. And certainly, it is easier said than done. I started with a page of my own on Blogger (the blogging site), chronicling my life as a new mother. Back then, I didn’t know how to make it reach a wider audience. Nevertheless, I wrote. Writing gave me a new strength that I didn’t know existed in me. It was as if I was voicing out my opinion to an unknown, unseen audience– someone beyond me and my family. At times, when a comment trickled in, I knew that my voice was being heard as well. As the years progressed, I was no more writing about random stuff; I now had my blog page on WordPress and that page became my go-to place to celebrate, vent, and rant. If there was something I read that didn’t go well with me, I would immediately get to my desk and start scribbling. If there was a movie that moved me to tears or shocked me with a baseless story, I would quickly reach out for my laptop, and if there was a book I just couldn’t put down, I would review it so that everyone could get their hands on it. With time, writing became my twin and helped me reach out to those who were in the same place as me. Many a time, my writing has been a ‘note to self’ and a reflection of that part of me that hid from the real world. I hate to admit it, but my life in parts has also found it’s way to the world through fictitious characters in my writing; stories that would otherwise have to go to the grave with me.

When I started writing, I never knew it would be cathartic and energizing at the same time. What started as an accident 8 years ago is what I identify myself as today. Writing has helped me find my tribe, support causes, and face the world fearlessly with my words. I have participated in multiple blog hops and marveled at how other writers view the world around them. Their opinions have sometimes helped sharpen mine, something I would’ve missed if I was not here. Do I write to heal, do I write to introspect, do I write to discover my inner self or do I write to rejuvenate myself? The answer is a “yes” to all of these. To date, I haven’t been able to find my niche because I cannot focus on any one thing in particular. Life throws challenges from all sides, doesn’t it? Which one do I look at and which one do I ignore–do I have a choice? My writing is a sum total of the experiences I have each day, an account of what touched me most, so it would be unfair to focus on one area alone.

My words are certainly mighty and I don’t need a sword to fight against this world. I may not be famous, but one day when I’m no longer in this world, my words will continue to be. They will be a reflection of who I was; they will bear my identity. This is something that cannot be erased. And so I continue to write, not to compete with anyone or to reach a number. I write for my soul. And if in the course of finding myself, I have been able to touch at least one person, my purpose is fulfilled.

This post is part of ‘The Write Path’ blog hop hosted by Swarnali Nath.

Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash