ESL Blogs

What to say about my writing skill?

The more I learn, the little I know. The more I uncover, the more remains hidden.

Despite of my learning English, reading habits, plus other extra efforts, I still can’t find myself to write creatively. Whenever I attempt to write, I always hit the wall and that put me to a stop. I am useless with compartmentalising. So confused as to how I should start and what to write first. Everything seems to come rushing into my head at the same time. Then all of a sudden all the idea vanished.  

I know! I know! I need practice. I never fail to remind myself. But I also never fail not to even start writing. Probably even my dear former boss was surprised that my writing skill was far behind my oral competence.

Inspired by romance novels and after seven years of reading experience, I finally made an attempt to write. This is just a glimpse of one and only short story I wrote three year ago. I did get my friend to read through and made some corrections.

“I was oblivious to anyone else in the classroom. Goosebumps covered my flawless chocolate skin. My fingers were numb, my hands were shaking, my teeth chattered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The presence of my new teacher made warmth spread through my body. He is mine and I must have him, I thought. At least I think he is mine.

When he came to my table, his features became more visible. Warmth snuck up my face and I felt myself blush hard, I bet he would have noticed if he had not moved on to the next table.

Over the following weeks I found it very difficult to join in on the discussions. Twice a week for four months I was in his class. Each day I stole glances of his 5’9” tall, lean body. 

I am not one to sit and hope I get what I want; I started making plans and plotting my moves. I started coming to class a little late so he had to notice me as I made my way to my seat. He was not aware that I watched him like a tigress about to attack her victim, my tongue lolling out of my mouth – figuratively speaking. I managed to make up some questions every chance I got, simply to steal the opportunity to talk with him. I loved the way he treated us nicely, and he always smiled at us.”

I don't aim to become a write but I do wish I could write some more short stories.