When I was 11 years old, shy and insecure in a boarding school in Nigeria, a teacher happened to seize a book I was writing. A few weeks later, he appeared at my desk, where he gently set the book down in front of me and tapped on it twice before producing the following words:
“You’ve got talent.”
I don’t think I’d ever taken my writing seriously before that point, but I’ve never stopped since. Especially because that same teacher went on to write an amazing book that was The New York Times Editor’s Choice in 2008. (His name is Uwem Akpan, if you are curious.)
I began writing books around the age of 9, after I observed my older sister doing the same. I don’t remember my thought process, but all I know was that I was suddenly writing a book of my own. I soon discovered that I quite enjoyed the process, and even more, that I wasn’t half bad at it. And that was that really.
Fiction writing was a solace during my rough early teen years. It gave me the power to create rich fantasies with the simple wielding of my pen⎯fantasies I immersed myself in to escape the harsh reality of being a miserable loner who was bullied for her “masculine” appearance and character.
Since then, my relationship with fiction writing has been rocky at best, threatened by spicy trysts with perfectionism, cynicism, apathy, and a host of other psychological suitors. But still, it continues, and here I am pushing it forward, no longer with a goal to escape but rather to inspire.
I self-publish because I require the freedom to write what I want, when I want, and however I want, without the need to check in with the powers that be that my work is not too weird or nonconforming⎯because frankly, who am I without my weirdness and nonconforming-ness? (See what I mean?)
When I am not going insane trying to figure out a plot or make sense of a character, I can usually be found browsing personality-related subreddits (why are ENTJs so darn hot?), playing Smash Karts CTF (grrr, so addictive yet frustrating), or thinking up get-rich-quick schemes (it is what it is, pal).
My one true passion and purpose, however, is getting people to understand and accept themselves, so if my books can achieve that in any small way, I will have attained all the self-actualization I need to smugly look down on the rest of humanity for the rest of my days.
We are one, but I am better.
Namaste.
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