The End

Today, I achieved something great. I typed “The End” on the first draft of a manuscript. Just to be clear, this is not my memoir that I am talking about. In fact, one of the main reasons I didn’t want to begin writing my memoir is because I was still working on this novel, which is the first book of a trilogy.

What is amazing about this novel is that I had not only applied all the lessons I learned throughout my journey in writing to it, but also that it echoed with the tension, drama, and emotions from my personal life, upbringing, societal background, and current situation. It is one of the projects that lingered in my head for a long time before I started it. It grew inside me and consumed the nutrients in my brain, just like a child would. And when it was ready to emerge, it put me through a long and tedious labor. But the result was worth it. And even though it’s going to take a lot of editing and polishing before it’s ready to be presented to people, I know that a large weight was lifted off my shoulders.


There is a strange feeling I have about this novel. I was actually happier when I finished this book than I was when I finished writing my first novel back in March. Mainly, I believe this happened because I got more involved emotionally with this project.

My life lately was filled with turmoil and agony. But I always told myself that I cannot make excuses when it comes to writing, that’s not what professionals do. No matter what happens in my life, I sit on my computer and type word after word, pouring my heart on the blank paper, smudging those emotions with my hands and soiling my face with them.

The first book I wrote still sits in my virtual drawer, waiting for me to find the will to edit it. However, this book will not miss me for too long. This is a book I want to polish to perfection. It’s a book I would be proud to present to an agent and, most importantly, a reader. Here I’d like to take the opportunity to thank all of those who have been following my journey. You give me so much strength and your support means the world.

Thank you!


Now, I’m off to have a glass of celebratory wine. Cheers :)


Journey of a Memoirist III

War was among the various other traumas I faced in the year 2006. When I started writing my memoirs, I could only recall highlights of the events I had been through in my life—good and bad. I was writing snippets of scenes that played in my head. They had no context, because I had forgotten—or chose to forget—what lead to those incidents, and how they changed me. Now that I finished writing about this period of my life, I feel more connected (to myself). I am seeing the bigger picture. Not merely recalling events of my life, I feel like an outside observer who’s watching characters interact and is able to connect those interactions to future habits, fears, interests, and beliefs.

Writing my memoirs was meant for me to have closure, and to give hope to whomever reads them. If I could go through all that and survive, so can you. In the process, however, writing my memoirs is giving hope to me. We all have moments when we feel that the world has turned against us, that nothing is going right, that we should give up… When I get into my memoir-writing mood and I relive all the obstacles that I had overcome, it proves to me that I have come a very long way. Reflecting on my life from the place I am today, I know what mountain climbers feel like when they’re bruised, exhausted, and are halfway to the top. The journey to the peak is a long and arduous one, one that can consume every bit of energy, and one that is a true test of character. The way back down is quick, but it’s a deadly drop. I can’t give up now.


Word of the Day: Obsequious


I feel like I haven’t posted a “word of the day” in years! Today’s word is one I like.

Obsequious uh b-see-kwee-uh s:

1. characterized by or showing servile complaisance or deference; fawning.

2. servilely compliant or deferential.

3. obedient; dutiful.


1. He gave an obsequious nod to his supperior.

2. She had always been an obsequious wife, until she wasn’t anymore.


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