Last weekend, I wrote a short story in Bahasa Indonesia, my native language, about a man who was freed from jail after spending four years in it. When I had thought about this idea I believed the story would be cool although I knew a lot of pieces about this have been around in media.
I kept doing what I had wanted though. Fortunately, rain was pouring down heavily across Jakarta. I had to stay at home. So I thought that days were perfect time for me to learn writing short stories. Tell you what!
The process was a bit like a torment for me. I was enjoying it on first words only. The initial sentences were running smoothly, coming from my heart. But the rest was like a journey full of pebbels. The lack of research that would support all of the details was hindering from making it into a comprehensive story. I changed the plot, too. The biggest factor that made me unable to turn the idea into a good one was because I was putting too much focus making it a worthwhile story to be sent to newspaper. Yeah, money at the end of the day.
The what-would-editors-or-readers-think-when-reading-this-writing was totally into my head during the process. This made it a bad result eventually. The story did not fully come from the heart. So many unfinished scenes here and there. I didn’t describe people and places in the story as beautiful as it should be. The story was dull in execution though I think the value that I would like to convey is powerful and very real.
In it, I’d love to share how freedom isn’t only limited in physical terms. It takes years and patience for this main character to be fully accepted by society. Being imprisoned emotionally is much more painful for him.
I completed the story by the way. With a lot of emotional efforts. I wrote a few sentences then I stopped. I listened to music, did trivial things, just to pump up my spirit. I needed two days to finish it all! Now I know how hard it is to finish writing things that slightly interest you, LOL! I did it all because I had to finish doing things that I started. I was unhappy with the outcome. I realized that I can make good reviews about books by other people but I am still far away from becoming a good fiction writer.
This fact slaps my face. What good is it to be a good reviewer and critic but can’t make incredible stories on my own? I look hard on myself on the mirror about this. I am still a bad fiction author regardless the fact that my awkwardness expressing things in Bahasa Indonesia does a big factor.
I have to learn coping all of this. I have to get up and try again.