I just write. That's it.

I have to admit that I have become so obsess with creative writing this month. I've been reading short stories, excerpts of novels, and techniques on proper short story writing. It's because I want to teach and share my knowledge to my writers.

I'll share how I started.

I've read my first novel a year and half ago. It was Sidney Sheldon's Morning, Noon, and Night. Though I was never really an avid reader, and never even had a chance to read any books in literature since first grade, I found Sheldon's book very nice to read so until then I continued reading other books from the same author.

A year ago, I met the Master of Romance Nicholas Sparks. I always hear about Sparks and have read excerpts of his novels but only at that moment of time I became so amazed by his works. I already read his new novel Safe Haven.

I smirked and was awed with Dan Brown's works. Fell in love with Daniel Steel.

I learned how to write short stories three months ago, and my improvement is tremendous.

I wrote stories with simple plots. That's the beginning. But I always make sure that they are well-detailed and must pass the qualities of a real 'short story'

I'm not bragging or anything. It's just that I didn't expect that I could really write.

I'll post here excerpts of the three stories I wrote. (These will get published very soon.)

The Math Tutor (16-page)

"I always find the darkness of the night creepy. If it weren’t for the stars, it would be once again a sad night. I stood silently on the porch looking at the distant sparkling heavenly wonders. There’s just a few of them out there. I can count them if I want to. The night, despite finding it creepy, felt wonderful. This afternoon was wonderful, too. I walked home and the heaven which was painted pallid orange couldn’t be more perfect.

This night, just like the past few nights, I wondered once more if there is life out there, somewhere. I prayed there is because it would also open the possibility that there is a second life. I know it’s absurd to hope or wish and my realistic self is telling me that what I’m hoping and wishing for is but a fantasy, a delusion of a man who will be forever miserable.

Stolen (7-page)

"The heat of the sun outside was excruciating and painful to the eye. I just came from the hospital to visit my sick mother and arriving at my company building had shielded me from the torturous rays of the afternoon sun. The shade was a welcome relief.

My mother had been admitted to the hospital for over a year now. What started to be a simple consultation resulted to a news that none of us in the family was ready for. As the diagnosis came, I kept my fingers crossed that it couldn’t be what we feared it to be. But crossing one’s finger didn’t do any good. At the end of that day, my family and I were in denial. Mother had breast cancer and would therefore needed the constant attention of doctors.

Thus, began our suffering – emotionally and financially.

The building I was in, was a small one. Outside, there was a small company logo and on top of it was the paper’s name – The Negros Reporter. Publishing companies didn’t had to be grand but our newspaper was a no-nonsense publication. The publication’s reputation was banking on the series of exposes made regarding government scandals which included corruption and political killings. Since we specialized, in government scandals, we had been the first to break the news about the crimes committed by the governor, tax evasions by prominent and well-known business men etc. We brought the news as it happens.

Anak ng Teteng (7-page)

“Do you have any questions? None. Then get a piece a paper for a quiz.”

Pansit! Nasiyahan ako sa aking narinig. Pipityogin lang ‘to. Muntik ng umabot sa passing score ang nakuha ko noong isang taon kaya ngayon ay sigurado na akong mapapasa ko ito. Gagalingan ko ng maigi para makakuha ako ng Flat One sa subject na ‘to.

“One seat apart!”

Parang ngipin lang ng kaklase naming bungi. Ito na ang pinakahihintay kong sandali. Sinimulan na ng titser na magsulat ng problems sa pisara. Hingang malalim. Matapos siyang magsulat ay unti-unti kong napagtanto na may malaki akong problema’ng hinaharap.

Di ko alam ang mga sagot sa tanong. Anak ng teteng! Ano bang nangyayari? Bakit ba ganito…bakit ba ganito kahirap ang mga tanong?

“Kailangan mo na naman bang mangopya?” tanong ng alter ego ko. “Sa isang daang exam mo sa kolehiyo, ilan ba dun yung hindi ka nangopya?” May tama rin ang alter ego ko. “Waley choice.”