TITLE: My World
By kelechi Ulunma
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It was a beautiful cool evening with the air fresh and clean from a rain that stopped showering only a while ago, we were all seated to brainstorm on the concept for a TV production and to submit our articles for the next edition of GN mini magazine
It wasn’t a classy restaurant but a clean and cozy place giving the seclusion needed for a session like the one we were in. Two mid length chairs and a not so long table crudely gave us that boardroom arrangement and atmosphere we needed.
Six young vibrant people who are either in their twenties or early thirties bubbling with talent and the zeal to put on air our second television production and to tackle the minor assignment of collating concluding and sending to print the next edition of GN.
Ours is a media group willing to be used by God to reach the world through the electronic and prints.
As writers read their poems I wondered what I was doing in that group. My desire and the conviction in my heart is to write to bless and inspire people, but I really don’t think I fit in well anymore especially not after hearing the well crafted and rhythmic poems by the writers in the group.
The concepts brought up for the TV production made it even more obvious that I was not just in on this group. They were all so brilliant and the presenters talked with all the technical jargons that I had to just sit and stare.
Writing is what I desire so much to do, and I really think I have the talent and am doing all I can to get the skills that will horn this talent.
The trick however is that the road to becoming a writer I must say is very narrow especially for someone like me who has been trying so hard for so long to get on it.
The comical side of it though is that I have it settled in my heart that I can write, but when it gets down to it writing becomes a real chore, I sit and cannot think up anything to write.
I have done some writing in the past nonetheless on and off but for all those times I wrote there was either a challenge to do so by seeing the work of an extremely good writer or a desperate need for a write up in my circle of writer and published writer friends; I always seem to seek them out as friends.
All those articles and write ups (one was even a cover story for an edition of a Christian campus magazine) always turn out to be quite good –well so I was made to believe by people that read them.
Please tell me can’t I be a writer, I mean a real writer the type my friends are, the type that can sit and bring out masterpieces of work without any form of external stimulus.
This is my world, the world of a wannabe writer.
What can I do but to keep pushing, keep learning and keep hoping that one day I will wake up on writer’s boulevard.
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