After writing the piece on growing up as a story a story lover, a reader drew my attention to the fact that I didn’t say much about the role my mother played in nurturing the writer in me like I did with my father raising the reader in the me. I guess it’s only fair I do justice to that as well.
I began writing at the young age of eight and I remember my classmates passing my exercise book among themselves to read the stories. They were written as dialogues only. Anyone who follows my stories will attest to the fact that they are heavy with dialogues with a thin film of prose wrapping it up.
From the beginning, my mother was fascinated when she discovered that I could write stories. She would ask me what they were about and I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon following her around the house narrating it while she went about her chores. Looking back, there were most times I lost her or she got distracted or even forgot that she asked me to tell her and thus, I was just speaking to the wind. Nevertheless, I’m always glad she showed interest in this new-found passion of mine and encouraged me to keep writing.
Back in the day, we didn’t have a PC at home hence I really struggled during IT class in senior high school. Up until I graduated from SHS, I used to write my stories in foolscap notebook. Loved having to pen them on paper; the only downside was during those moments when my mind was buzzing with ideas and the creative juices were flowing but I had to slow down on the excitement so it doesn’t affect my handwriting.
My mother got me enrolled in a computer training school after SHS and when my fingers got familiar with the keyboard, the ecstasy was out of this world! I’d forever be grateful to Mavis Beacon for making me enjoy typing and helping me learn it very quickly.
My parents then got a used desktop computer for the house so I started typing the stories I had written in the books. It was interesting having to rewrite them, being pleased and sometimes shocked about what I had imagined and written.
I remember she even got one of my stories printed – 10 copies I think and I remember the elation of having to hold a book with my words in it. I was an author in the making!
Since I moved out of town to school in the university up till now, no phone conversation would end without her asking if I’m still writing. Now she’s asking, do I still write for people to read for free? 😂😂
Please start sending in your tokens so I can tell her now people are paying to read 😀
I can never thank my mother enough for being such a pillar in my writing journey. Even if the whole world turned their back on me with just her still believing in me, that’s more than enough for me to keep on writing.
Love you to the moon and back, mum.
Josephine Amoako (c) 2022