Every author has a beginning, mine started long before I even realised it.
Apparently, this is my first attempt at trying to stay active with my writing online. One day, it crossed my mind that this could be a good alternative if I ever decided to quit social media. And as a start, writing about my journey of becoming an author might be quite interesting (well, at least to me).
The Journey That Took More Than 9 Years
Yes, it took me 10 years to begin my first step… first? Or the second step? Let’s do an autopsy on it.
My first book, Melakar Bayang, began when I first started writing with the genuine intention of turning it into a manuscript in 2016. I had just finished my SPM at that time. Initially, it didn’t even have a title. Yes, no title at all. I simply named it “Manuscript” in my computer folder.
I have always loved writing. During my secondary school years, I always looked forward to Bahasa Malaysia and English classes because I got to write. Essays. I LOVED it so much. And I loved how my English teacher always had faith in me, in my writing and my English performance in general. Special shout-out to Puan Rosmawati. (Hoping she still remembers me.)
The 12-Year-Old Dream
When I was 12 years old, I remember that my friend and I were betting on something or maybe it was a little game and she lost. We promised each other that the winner would get to demand something. So when I won, I demanded a notebook.
Just a typical brown-covered notebook that school kids used, usually for exercise purposes. It was usually 80 – 120 pages, but I asked for the 200-page one.
The reason I wanted that notebook was because I thought it might be useful for writing something like a novel. But this was more organic. Hahaha. Handwriting.
Apart from that, I just loved books. Whatever kind of books. The smell and everything about them felt beautiful (you might say I’m romanticizing it, but reading used to be my escapism). Avid readers might relate to how much we find a sense of security with books. I used to carry a book or notebook with me whenever I went out, even if I didn’t have time to read or use it.
I went on to write a Malay novel in that notebook she gave me. Looking back now, it’s so funny. I remember some of the details and it was so immature. The plot, the characters. But every Friday, my friend never failed to read it. Syahira, I’m hoping your memory has erased this one. (Please!)
Before the Novel
Way before I started to write my organic, immature Malay novel at 12, I loved reading newspapers and rewriting certain articles into my notebook. I would cut them out and rewrite them in my own style. Perhaps it was like a summary of the article? Maybe.
Unfortunately, I don’t have those notebooks anymore. Those beautiful pieces of passion were thrown away by my mother. She’s a clean freak and didn’t notice where I had placed them inside the bookshelf drawer. She threw everything into the dump.
To be fair to her, the books were also worn out. At a glance, they looked like they had been dumped and used in the wrong way. Oops. I mean, I didn’t bother to preserve them well or give them a fresh cover.
To my defence, I was just a 12-year-old dealing with the life crisis of turning 13 in a month’s time. Yes, it was December.
Back to 2016
Alright, let’s get back to 2016. Along the way to that year, life had been both awfully painful and beautiful. But that’s just life. Life happens in the most unexpected ways: it can be ugly, beautiful, and messy all at once.
However, 2016 was the year my breaking points started to crack. All the walls I had built with resentment, anger, tears, disappointments, confusion, and fatigue; began to crumble. I could not bring myself to ask for listening ears after bottling up my despairs and grief for years.
So I decided to redirect my aching wounds into writing, escaping from all the noise inside my head.
I started writing something in Microsoft Word, naming it “Manuscript,” which is now known as Melakar Bayang. I dreamt of becoming an author. I wanted to be one. However, I never really thought I could make it. I didn’t see myself as deserving to be one. I didn’t think I could be as good as any other authors out there.
Hence, I left it unfinished… until 9 years later. Wow. I just realised the actual timeframe. I used to think it was only 5–6 years, but it was 9. And when it was finally published in 2025, that made it 10. (9 years and 1 month to be precise, haha.)
My Firstborn
Until today, I still have doubts about my writing. I admit that Melakar Bayang is my firstborn and it is not perfect. It might not be as good as I hoped it would be, or as polished as other authors’ works. But it will always hold a special place in my heart.
People say every writing carries a piece of its author. That hits home.
So, 9 years later, do I finally think my “manuscript” is good enough to pitch to a publisher? No. I still don’t think so. However, what I believe in is the essence and messages I want to share with people. I convinced myself that it is worth trying. I wanted people to connect with the story. One day, I will leave. I’ll leave the world when it’s time.
And I want my writing to be part of people’s lives in a way that benefits them, however that may be. I want to live between the words. A legacy to my children.
I still have a lot to improve in terms of my writing technique, for sure and I hope I will keep writing things that help people in whatever form they need.
To Those Who Dream
Thus, for all those dreaming of being an author, take your first step. Write.
That’s pretty long for this entry. I’ll come back with more interesting stories… some are funny, some are bittersweet, and some might just be plain boring. I already have a few things in mind. Hehe.
