Like I said last week about my experience writing over a year, it’s been a great experience. The title for this post should tell you where I am headed. I love writing here…I mean the blog. To me it’s a small warm room; warm always, even when it gets cold outside, it has warm covers.
Here, It feels like we are all in conversation and we can all see each other .We know everyone. It’s a close group. May be it’s a living room, several people sharing a couch or a bedroom, where you are not afraid or even embarrassed to invite your friends over. It is a close group. Here I feel like I can tell you anything…and if you feel cold it is that kind of camaraderie that is so typical of girls where you jump into bed together, to keep warm and just talk, about anything.
A lot of you who come here are the silent listeners, the ones who just nod along; mug of hot coffee in hand, left palm supporting chin, in concentration. No one would miss your presence because much as you do not say anything; you provide the fun in telling a story, with the usual nods and silent questions.
Some of you are the not –so –quiet type; you listen in and care to leave a comment, sometimes, if you could I believe you would interject, share an experience, put down the mug and applause. You are the type who will write on my wall or send me a message or leave a comment when I say something you relate to.
Some of you are none like the above two groups, when a story is well told, I imagine you feel it deeper. May be if it’s sad or deep you may drop a tear. You do not interrupt the discussion, nor do you say something, more like you don’t want to spoil the mood. But you will say something later, may be in an unrelated moment. Like those times that I have met some of you and you tell me, remember that article about, say Bird Pooh my you rocked. You made my day, or maybe you are actually right.
Once in a while I have got a hug or a beer for telling my story. Because much as some of the stories take their own life, a lot of them stem from true life events, real life stories. I have been bought lunch in Nairobi, by this fine girl who told me she likes the way I write. You should have seen me. She even went on to do a character analysis of me, calling me sly in the process. That is where we disagreed. Much as she insists. Okay I may have exaggerated a bit there, the lunch was not really to tell me she loves my writing, or even to tell me I look or appear sly… Any way being a friend, I believe it was just that, a friendly lunch for a friend in your town.
That is why I feel guilty. Guilty because I have not been able to consistently talk here. I have been distracted. It is just like a boy who has got an adoring little girlfriend who has seen him through everything, who now ignores her for a newer, wider….I wanted to say wider circulation, but then it wouldn’t resonate well, it only works with publications!
Like I said last week, I have not appeared here a lot of times, not because I have not been writing, rather because I have been writing more. As a result that diverted my attention from the cozy little room where I feel comfortable. In order to fill up the void, I have posted here some of the work I have worked on for a totally different audience. But even I feel it is more suited for other places, not this almost sacred warm room. So I have kept some of that work where it belongs, however much some of you may, maybe, have found it comfortable.
Over the past year, I have moved from telling stories as a hobby to seriously considering doing this for a while and with a little more seriousness, because as you may have noticed, I am working on my discipline. A gentleman in a particularly respectable publication told me how unserious and devoid of discipline I was, because I handed in my assignment late. I took it to heart.
Of course, you guys are not like the first cut girlfriend I have referred to above. You haven’t left anything really to be with me, but I take you seriously. You knew me before anyone else did. I imagine sometimes you come to the blog only to find tasteless stale pieces weeks old and you silently curse why I can’t update my blog more regularly. I feel you .I feel the same thing when I visit some of the blogs I follow. But Like I said, am learning my manners, so I promise to be a lot more regular.
A friend, one of those who will only tell me what he thinks of a particular piece of writing when we happen to physical meet, asked me this week whether I have made any money at all by writing. He told me of one respected gentleman in the region that has made a lot out of writing including a fine house in Muthaiga. I know you don’t want to hear the answer to his question, so I will leave it here.
No?
True I have been paid various sums for my writing. I am very proud of myself given my age in this writing world. I have also been regularly published, something which means much more than money to me, that is why I will keep writing. For now though, I have not got to the level of buying a fine house either in Muthaiga or in Kololo here. But hey, who knows what is in store? The future is full of surprises and even more opportunities.
For now, let us keep munching on that corn, you know that newly popped warm corn! It is awesome, yes imagine we are eating that here, and some bowls of ground and cashew nuts, well-salted indeed, are making the rounds.
And let us keep talking.
