The story if my life

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The story if my life
It‘s funny that my story as a writer does not start with me; it begins with my mother. My mother is a writer. Well in fact, she is an editor. Yes, you heard it, and believe me, there is a huge difference. I suppose it is the contrast between the two of us. Growing up in a family that adored language, I developed the sense of writing back in third grade. My mother reminds me today that I begged and cried on her lap to read the last sentence of every children’s books she bought for me. She knew that reading was my passion and that someday I would become a great writer. At the age of eight, she decided that it was time to reach for my dreams. She went ahead to buy me a toy typewriter so that I could practice my writing skills. While she sat on her computer typing breaking news, I played with my toy typing whatever I could remember from the stories I read. “I wish I could read you weekly newspaper like in the good old days”. I wish our neighbors could forget it, but one of them kept reminding me of how I used to writer my own weekly newspaper and deliver to their houses. Guess what the headlines read; “my little brother is annoying”. This was my family choice, not forgetting “News Just In: Eat More Candy: Broccoli is bad for Your Health!”
Nothing impressed me more than expressing my thoughts in writing. I was not a good imaginative or creative writer, but very good at freehand writing where I felt comfortable expressing my thoughts. As I got into high school, I got my hands on one of my mother’s favorite books. The title read “Nasiib Buundo” written by one of the greatest Arab writers, Abdi-Noor Haji Mohamed. Of course, I wanted people to appreciate my writing too, so it captured my attention and I went ahead to read it page by page. Apparently, I did not love his poetry, but I loved the way he spoke out his mind in his writings. At one point, I told myself, “Why can’t I write like Mohamed”. One of my teachers in high school encouraged me to do a lot of reading; little did he know that my ‘profession’ was actually writing. It‘s a little shocking that I had developed a profession in high school right? I went to college and met a teacher who would later become my mentor. I participated in English essay writing and received the award of the best writer after a panel of professors voted my essay as the best. I acknowledged Mohamed as my inspiration and to my surprise, one of the professors commented that Mohamed had someone to propagate his writings. Was I astounded? You guess!
However, it did not come as a surprise to me, but rather as an encouragement. Writing officially became my profession after an endorsement from my teacher in college and I made it my mission to become the best in my class. I emulated certain aspects of my mother’s writings, but I loved writing shorter and informal essays. Honestly, I do not have the patience to develop fo...