Supporter’s Club

My apology goes out to everyone who has been hounding me about the dusty and stale condition of my blog (they used more polite adjectives). The way creative work is, you just gotta withdraw once in a while. While I can promise that I’ll be posting more often, I can’t promise that a hiatus in the distant future isn’t inevitable.

So, we all know that life is the only story in which every character is a/the protagonist—at least in their own eyes. Everyone thinks life is about them, that life is their own story. So last weekend I began pondering this subject, and I realized that life isn’t just the only story in which every character is a protagonist, it is the only story entirely made up of supporting characters. A bit of a contradiction there, huh? Let me explain.

While we are all protagonists in our own eyes, we are all supporting characters in one another’s eyes. A simple concept.

Supporting Characters add flavor to a story (in this case, life) they themselves being fully developed characters. In our eyes, our family and friends are supporting characters in our movie. They spice things up by doing things you will never imagine to do, and seeing things in ways you never will. That’s what makes them interesting and memorable characters in our lives. Ever heard of the statement “opposites attract?” Exactly. It’s the reason a shy and quiet guy is almost always expected to go for a chatty, outspoken female counterpart et vice versa.

No story is ever good without supporting characters. No story exists without supporting characters.

But remember this: while you are out there, seeing everyone as supporting characters in your story, everyone is actually seeing you as a supporting character in theirs. We are equal. We are the same. We are all important…or unimportant, as the case may be.

Life’s Paradox

Hi guys. Took a little hiatus from blogging. Still not sure if I’m back yet…you all know how life can get, you live it, too. I’m not alone. Like I always say, Life is the only story where everyone is the protagonist—at least in their own eyes. At the same time, looking at it through the lens before my brother’s eyes, this story called life has no protagonist. The way I see it, no one deserves to be casted for that role anyway. No one has what it takes. But enough of my ramblings. I’ll ramble on this much later. You bet I will.

For a couple of days, I’ve been studying the behavior of the people around me, watching what makes them tick, what makes them bubble, what makes them take totally impulsive and irrational decisions, what makes them cry, and what makes them breakdown, crawl back into a shell they had hatched out of in the past, and painstakingly rebuild their covering—the very same covering they broke out of. I was also a test subject in this impromptu experiment of mine, and here’s what I discovered: We all do what we do 1.) to be different and 2.) for attention.

Gone are the days when we did things to be accepted. We don’t want to be accepted. We want to stand out. We want to be unique. We want to dye our punk Mohawk hairdos fuchsia pink and get a tattoo that says “No one in this city has swagger like me” for the simple fact that we want to be noticed. Not accepted, noticed. We do it to be different.

At the same time, I find, while we are trying to be different and not “accepted”, we can’t handle being snubbed. I find this strange. I’ve seen traits in me. I used to think I hated attention, and believe me I do (I’d love to change my birth date on Facebook on my birthday just to ward off the myriad of posts, and return it to normal thereafter, but I won’t ‘cause that’s downright childish and immature), but truth be told I appreciate attention. Let’s face it, whether we like it or not, humanity’s basic need is to be loved. We all want someone who would check up on us when we’ve got the blues. We all want someone who would feel genuine concern for us when we are down with even the slightest flu. If we all had people like that in our lives, then Miss World’s dream of “World Peace” is as good as a reality. But truth be told, most of us don’t. This is why I cherish the handful of friends I’m blessed with, not to mention family.

I think it all boils down to the fact that we secretly do want to be accepted. And while we fight “acceptance” by making irrational decisions that’ll make us “different”, we secretly need acceptance. We secretly crave it.

We just don’t know it.

Mich

@chosenmich

Festive Love

I welcome you all to the year 2013. This is my first post in this New Year, and no, it isn’t about writing. One of the things I told myself this year is that I wouldn’t draw up a list of resolutions that I have for 2013 coz, like it or not, I always fail at keeping every one of them. Funny enough, if you look at it another way, this year my resolution was not to make any resolutions, and for the first time ever, I’ve been able to keep my resolution ‘coz I didn’t draw any up.

What I do have for 2013 is a list of goals I would love to achieve. There is nothing wrong with setting goals, I just don’t like resolutions. I’m already working towards my goals for this year, and I hope to share my progress with you in future posts.

This post however tackles the dark side of the festive periods. It’s been one long time of celebration; Christmas and New Year. These periods wear a mask. A mask of love, caring, and sharing. In truth, that’s what it is all about. But under it all, I find, it is probably the easiest time of the year to harbor grief.

I’ll give you an example. Say you know someone who’s supposed to be a friend. The 25^th of December comes. You send a “Merry Christmas” text. But get no reply. You know your pal got the message, so why didn’t he/she reply? This is why January is the month for pointing accusing fingers. “You didn’t send me a text,” or “you didn’t reply mine,” or “you didn’t call me.”

Perhaps it boils down to the fact that we all just want a little loving. It goes back to the gist of what these periods of celebration are about: love. Maybe we should all just learn to give each other the benefit of the doubt. I’m fantastic at doing that, giving people the benefit of the doubt. Some of us are just forgetful, and some of us are going through too much to remember such things. But either way don’t allow one person put you in a mood this New Year.

Love yourself, love others.

Again, Happy New Year from MiCH.

@chosenmich

‘Tis the Season

It’s that time of the year again when the streets are decorated, and regardless of your location the temperature is lower than usual.
For me, it’s the ultimate relaxation time. So have a break, take a chill pill, hang with family and friends, and eat till you drop! (I didn’t say that).
But in all your eating, don’t forget we’re only celebrating because God gave us His best gift-His son.
Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year in advance. The next time I post it’ll be 2013… Isn’t that cool.

See you next year!
MiCH

After 2 Years

The ending months of the year 2012 makes it two years since I became a writer. Though it’s only been a couple of years, it’s been one heck of a ride consisting of rise and falls, successes and failures, elations and let downs. In these two years, however, I’ve learned a whole lot of things about the writing process, which I outline below. There are many other things about writing, no doubt, but here are a few vitals:

No one can write your Idea as well as you

It’s how I started writing, really. That concept or idea, I always feel, dropped in your mind for a reason. I have also found out that no matter what tiny bit of an idea you get, it comes with some sort of vague idea as to who some of the characters might be. You are already bonding with the characters even before the first word is penned (whether you’re a pantser or an outliner). It’s like a soon-to-be mother in labor. The second the baby emerges, the connection between the mother and child is the strongest. Sorry, dads! It’s the plain truth. She did carry the kid for nine months, after all.

Inspiration and Passion isn’t nearly enough, discipline is required

In today’s world, everyone is teaching that you should follow your passion. Good and fine, but I found out that especially in writing, inspiration and passion aren’t nearly adequate driving forces for seeing you through to the final period. Discipline is required. If you cannot sit down at your work for protracted hours and write, your story can be likened to chasing a rainbow; you see it after the rain, but really there is no “end of the rainbow”, and there’s certainly no pot of gold there. Discipline is the transportation to the end of your manuscript.

Discipline isn’t enough, you need patience

Discipline might certainly be the transportation to the end of your manuscript, but it is a rickety way of getting there. Oil up discipline’s joints with patience. Patience is what ensures a smooth sailing all through the writing process. Writing is a brutally remorseless process, and if you’re doing it the right way, it’s a lonely one, too. Where discipline might falter, patience stands firm. You just gostta keep pressing till you see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Set goals, but start small

No one is disputing the fact that setting goals is almost the only way to achieve things, but many times we tend to get overtaken by our goals of becoming a New York Times #1 Bestseller, that we forget the number one thing writing is; a process. Have those goals—I have them, too—but instead of making your first work am epic 600 page tale, why not try your hands on writing short stories first, getting the hang of the art that is writing. I learned this the hard way.

Characters aren’t just that, they are people

Your characters aren’t just characters that help take your readers to the end of a story; they are living, breathing people with a past, a present, and a future. Like you, they have ambitions and goals, which may or may not be becoming a New York Times #1 Bestseller. If all your characters take decisions the way you would, they are nothing but clones…of you. It’s back to the drawing board, then. Sorry.

Writing should be fun, inasmuch as it is work

I did say that writing is “a brutally remorseless process” earlier. Though a hundred and ten percent true, it should be fun. If you don’t have fun writing, perhaps you should think of another career path. There is nothing worse than working in misery, trust me, I know. Above all else, you need to love writing. You need to breathe, eat, and sleep writing. Nothing, for me, comes remotely close to writing. I love it.

Belief

Everything, it seems, excites kids. I could list a billion and one things we did as kids that “never got old.” Amongst all, there is this phenomenon we discovered. Read about it below:

I grew up in the northern parts of Nigeria. If there is anything to be noticed about the north, it’s the scorching and prickly heat. Heat so strong it feels like the rays of the sun are actually needles to the skin. On such days, demand for water goes up so as to curb dehydration (which always feels to be right around the corner.)

Now here’s the phenomenon. Whenever you see a bottle of water standing on the table and pick it up, you find it to be empty. But for a split second, it didn’t feel so. For a moment in time, the bottle actually feels heavy. It actually feels like there is water in it! For a very brief moment, your hand’s upward movement is challenged by the “weight” of the “water” in the bottle, and then suddenly, the bottle feels light, sending your hand way over your head.

So what am I saying?

Belief has the power to bring into existence, stuff that doesn’t naturally exist, and stuff that isn’t naturally possible. Belief is the acceptance by the mind that something is true—even if it currently isn’t. Belief has the power to make an empty bottle temporarily full. It has the power to make men walk on water. There is nothing, I believe, that belief can’t do. Unlike Newton, however, we didn’t explore why this apple fell on our heads. Perhaps if we did, we would have discovered the Law of Materialization, or something. How you can form substances by just believing in their existence.

So believe in yourself, and believe in your dream. Even if that dream doesn’t seem feasible now, belief can bring it into existence.

Reality vs. Fiction

I sat down one afternoon and began thinking about the power of a story. The power of fiction—guess that could also be the title of this post.

I sat on this day and thought to myself, If it’s impossible in real life, it’s possible in a story. If it’s impossible in a story, it’s impossible in real life.

To put it in a simpler form, fiction makes the impossible possible. I’m one of those folks that believe in the supernatural and the paranormal, you can’t convince me otherwise. I seen, and heard, of some pretty bizarre stuff because of my background. But even with the existence of the supernatural, some things are without a doubt farfetched. For example, a man not being able to distinguish the real world from a dream world (Ted Dekker’s Circle Series), or a writer’s pseudonym—who might have as well been a potential twin he gobbled up in his mother’s womb—coming to life to haunt him (Stephen King’s The Dark Half). These are all impossible scenarios in the real world.

Even though I did mention that what is impossible in fiction is definitely impossible in real life, I’m yet to find a scenario that is totally impossible to tell in a story. In a story I can single handedly amass a great following and become the president of Africa, yes, the entire continent. Nothing’s impossible in a story.

I dare say that even Jesus knew the power of a good story which is why he spoke in parables, an archaic word for fiction if you ask me.

No one wants to see reality being mimicked event-for-event in a story. It is why I say “The world is not enough, so I create an alternate.”

All in My Head

“Hi, Mich!” Mich said as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“Oh! Hi, Mich!” Mich responded as Mich ambled across the room, taking a seat at the far corner.

“How’s the story coming?” Mich asked, sinking into the chair.

“Great!” Mich quipped. “Bob just realized he’s been living in an alternate world!”

 

Yep! That’s how it often is in my head. Okay, it isn’t quite that vivid. But since I was little I can remember having conversations in my head. I dared not tell anyone, for multitudes might have considered me crazed. Heck, I told myself, and myself considered me weird.

I feel that most people do converse with themselves in their heads, they just don’t let us know. While some others might not have a well played out dialog going on in their head, some of us do.

This is a concept I never really understood about myself while growing up. Not until I started writing. A concept I once thought crazy suddenly became a powerful tool for bringing my characters to life on paper—be it physical or electronic. I find it easier to put down my characters’ thoughts, and also to construct dialog between them since I’m constantly chatting with myself.

Drop a comment. Do you ever chat with yourself?

One Small Step

Shocked by the news of the death of one of my childhood heroes, Neil Armstrong, I write this post in honor of his tremendous work to humanity. As a little kid, I don’t think there was any profession I didn’t consider going into, but on the top of my list at a point was being an astronaut. What can I say, every child dreams. Today, however, I’m freaked by the concept of airplanes, not to talk of space shuttles.

So how does Neil Armstrong, Man On the Moon, link with writing? Actually, I’m linking him with reading in my own small way. Neil Armstrong to me is the human representation of the word “Discovery.” 

“That’s one small step for man, and a giant leap for mankind.” Armstrong said, having taken his first steps on the moon.

Alright. Enough jabbering. What’s my point? Apart from a means of escape, I feel reading is also a means of discovery. One small step, for the reader, might be walking into a bookstore and picking up a book by their favorite author. But your giant leap comes when you leap into the pages of that book and discover a whole new world. Books have the capability to make you discover more about everything, even yourself. It unearths secrets you never knew about you, and about your world.

 Our job is to take you to the moon and back.

@chosenmich

Psychic Chemo

I was waiting in a vestibule on this morning, face stabbed in the pages of my current read, Dean Koontz Odd Thomas, when I stumbled against the words of a character in the story who’s a writer.

His words were, “Writing isn’t a source of pain. It’s psychic chemotherapy. It reduces your psychological tumors and relieves your pain.”

This was a “Selah”—pause-and-think—moment for me.

I’ve heard writing being referred to as thinking through fingers, that’s Isaac Asimov. To me it’s creating an alternate world of escape. But never have I seen it as “Psychic Chemo.”

But in a sense that is what writing is to the writer. Writing can be seen as an activity of healing for the writer. The activity of writing brings us healing. So, writing is to the writer first, before the reader, a source of escape. And completing a piece brings the biggest healing. It is our treatment.

Mich