TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2009
Winning the Intwasa 2009 Short Story Competition has served as a great motivation to keep the writing going, to keep penning those musings down, keep playing with those words. I honestly do not have more to say (one of those few times when a writer really is ‘out of words’). Writing competitions, I guess, serve as a stimulus for writing, when you are consciously aware that your work will be read by others out there (in this case judges), you become really aware, as it were, of your work. One of the hardest things is, of-course, coming to an accurate analysis of your own work (very difficult thing), as a writer, sometimes you are simply too close to your work and sometimes you think the going is good when maybe it ain’t so great. Oh, and you are plagued by doubts, I mean how can you be sure that you are on the right lane, there is such a thin line between ‘wow’ masterpieces and absolute crap, sometimes one sees a masterpiece, another sees crap in the same work, then when you try and stick to the safe lane by repeating what has already been done, you are called mediocre. One must simply not lose sight of one’s writing objectives (very hard to demystify, those, ‘writing objectives’, what does that mean exactly?)
I’d just like to say thanks, I mean so far after winning this competition I got this really great and thought provoking advice from my ‘sista’, who is a gem of a writer, with a gem of a character, and so her words always sparkle like gems, even when she is giving a sista some hard knock lessons on certain aspects of the writing arena, the words fall hard and hit home the way gems are meant to, knock you over with a positive and encouraging light.
Do you get it?
No I don’t get it.
(Whack!-a slap) Now do you get it?
Oh yes!
The African way of rearing does work.
And my ‘sista’, you must not beat my compliments to a pulp- for some reason or other many of us love to do that- is there some child rearing method that teaches us not to bow before compliments, but to crouch beneath them? (rather to squash them)
Your dress looks soooo lovely!
Aw camun! You mean this ugly thing?
Well (shrug)…if you insist. (haha)
It’s just that us writers are so in tune with the more substantive things of life (haha), otherwise, those of us who give such excellent advice (such as my ‘sista’), should be billing for it, the way lawyers and doctors do (oh especially the lawyers, why are lawyers always under attack? So many lawyer jokes out there), open a lil office and do one of those 750 an hour (I did not mention the currency), then as your reputation goes up and the people are queuing by your doorstep, you stop being nice and start being grumpy and rude to your clients and you raise your fee to 1000 and you no longer specify for how long it is, see people for ten minutes and get them believing they got their money’s worth just because you have a reputable name…Ever noticed how the higher up the ladder these doctors and lawyers and doctors and lawyers go, the cockier they get? Ok, this is not meant to be a generalization ( even though it is), yes, even though it is, it’s not meant to be. So. Writers writers writers. Why do we write? Is it just the pen on the paper, what is there beyond that? Am wondering.
Thanks Intwasa, you are a great motivation to this young writer and you inspire her to go wherever one goes from here (where does one go from here? Where is the where from here? Perhaps there’s a no where. Perhaps there’s just a here) One just keeps on writing and then one should let the writing do the rest (writing has a life of its own it just takes over you and begins to own you, in the end you no longer know who’s boss- the great coup). No really, I think I’ve said my two cents, it’s just I had to keep saying more because my words were appreciating with the Zim inflation. Now we’ve changed currency. (No look really, no, if my jokes are dry you really don’t have to laugh, you can just, you can just…. you can just something, find something to laugh at, I’m really trying here, at least my jokes are clean, ever listened to any of those live comedians speak, they don’t crack jokes, they make really dirty jokes and then people laugh at their audacity. One thing I love about Zim is we still have our sense ofdecency you know (although again decency is also a subjective thing), but we still have that nice, sour sweetness about us, beats having a sweet sourness, I mean would you rather have it sour-sweet or sweet-sour? I’m telling you, if you were to walk in Joburg with a mini on, they would hoot at you and whistle and ask for your number…if you try the same thing egodini (back home in Bulawayo), they will rip it off you and ridicule you-I mean if you’re gonna wanna have everything out, have everything out, I mean who the hell are you doing it for anyway? ‘It’s my body it’s my body’, not if you’re gonna display it like slabs of meat to be slapped and poked at the open market)
Again. Why do we write? What are the politics involved? Is it just pen on paper? Am just wondering.