My voice

I live within a 5-min walk to a huge bookstore which I have been frequenting very regularly since living in this neighborhood. Through this time I have been reading more extensively than ever, and in the past two months, focused my attention on browsing different genres of memoirs written by different individuals - celebrities, politicians, war survivors, entrepreneurs, writers, superstars, athletes, divorcees, columnists, actors, widows, black women, singers, child soldiers, etc. I have read every single book by Maya Angelou ever since I discovered her in 2005 - she taught me what it means to have a voice and let it sing.  

I noticed that everyone has their own unique voice and there is no one consistent format to determine what makes a memoir captivating and worth reading. Every memoir appeal to a different audience, at different seasons and times.

For a long time I was afraid my memoir wouldn't fit the conventional flow and format, and time and again I reminded myself that I am unique and there is no one else like me who will have a voice and write like me, so I should celebrate that and be confident of what I am producing.

The past four weeks saw me groveling in a pit of despair as I buried myself in piled-high memoirs of others, comparing my voice with theirs and feeling small about myself. To make matter worse, I have been being ill and ridden with the flu bug which didn't help to cheer my mood except for days when I rebelled against my body and throw myself headlong into a mix of sweat and hard breathing perpetuated by multiple-hour long bicycle rides and long runs which further deteriorated my health.

Biking Los Altos Hills

I smile widely internally every time I write. I smile myself silly every time I ride my bike or run. I love doing these things, and often, when the world confuses me with too much information, distractions and good ideas, I only have to sit still and process my thoughts into writing or to take off for a long bike ride or run to make sense of those constant bombardment.

I am a firm believer of progress. I don't delight in and shun stagnancy. My story has rested long enough. It is time to get it out. Raw, unpolished, dirty, unpresentable as it is. Get ready for the release of truth - my voice, Angie's voice.

Running Montara trail