So I was cleaning out my room yesterday( Which I would write a full blogpost on cos believe me you're gonna wanna hear what I've found and what I've done) and I found an old book with all my stories I've written and discontinued.
And well, I mean I knew my English wasn't exactly the best back then but I didn't think it was that bad.
Apparently it was.
Hm.
When I did a read through of all the stories I've written and cringe at the bad choices of words and the bad writing in general, I realize how arrogant I was back then to think that what I wrote was good enough to be published as a book (If I ever did finish it back then) and become a best seller.
Well it was either arrogance or adolescent's naivety. One thing for sure I would have embarrassed myself if I ever did bring my work to any publishing house at that time. It was just that bad.
I was beyond embarrassed over what I wrote and how I've written it, but I never thought the idea or the plot line I have for my stories were bad. And I even dared to think, right at this moment, if I just polish my writing skills I could actually enhance and expand the concepts even further. When I look back at all the stories I was intrigued to know what happens next despite the tacky and oh-so-obvious-written-by-a-teenager paragraphs.
All of this made me realize a thing about talent and hard work. That they work side by side and sometimes talent isn't even needed if you work hard enough. If you want it bad enough. And I guess I didn't. That's why I gave up halfway through all my stories. That's why I can't write brilliantly like all the authors I've admired. Because I didn't give enough effort. Because I thought if I don't have the talent to write why bother. And that in itself proves that I don't have enough passion to be a writer. Heck I don't even deserve to say that I like writing.
Because I was lazy.
And that my dear friend, is the worst talent anybody could have,
