Childhood Dreams...

I think the very first childhood dream I ever had was to be a writer. And after attending Otto Fong's talk today - From Classroom To Comics (Part of Indignation 2008) about how he gave up teaching to become a full-time comic artist makes me wonder if I will ever be brave enough to venture back into the realm of writing.

I was never a talented writer. Sure, I had some vivid imagination back in school and I enjoyed classes that allowed me creative freedom, but I was never brilliant at it like Michelle who is one of the best among my peers.

Yet while I sat there listening to Otto recount his coming out story and how he slowly realised that what he really wanted was to return to his first love, it made me wonder if I could return to my first love as well. Among all the different "hobbies" I had listed as a child, the first and foremost passion was writing. Nothing had ever come close to this hobby that had started when I was about 8 years old, scribbling with my childish scrawl in an old Jotter Book about the fictional Joanne and her handsome prince.

A part of me wants to go and recreate some fairy tale world much like Roald Dahl of the past or the Harry Potter phenomenon we have now. Another yearns for the simple stories that Enid Blyton brought to us - Famous Five, Secret Seven and my personal favourite, The Five Find-Outers. My strong command of the English language would never have been possible without these companions while I was growing up. I recall losing myself in mountains of books when I had chicken pox, re-reading the entire Famous Five series and delving into the other Enid Blytons when I had finished those in 3 days. By the time I had left my primary school, I had read just about every single book in the library, aided by the fact that I was the head librarian and spent so much time there. Lord of the Rings came alive for me when I read the trilogy in Secondary 2, even while cheering on Elizabeth and Jessica in the Sweet Vally series which I collected to the point where my bookshelf was over-run by them. Later on, I discovered Eddings, Feist, Gaiman, Card even as I read Danielle Steel and Judith McNaught on the side.

For everything that reading has brought me, I wish I could give the same in return. Of course not in hopes of being the next J K Rowling, but perhaps in some small measure, a Singaporean version of Roald Dahl. I would be content to be able to build a world that some may find comfort in and if it encourages them to read more, it would be an added benefit.

So maybe the childhood dream may not have to remain as just a dream after all...