A lady once messaged me saying she has read Burnt Clay three times. I smiled, it was so cute, I have read it almost ten times (not anymore, I cringe so much)… I know it’s weird😒
There’s nothing I enjoyed more in my life than writing Burnt Clay, reading it comes a close second. Some of my favorite memories where created with the characters of that book and no one is allowed to tell me they don’t exist, because they do.
It may be amateurish, it may be cringe, it may have serious plot flaws and conversations that seem off- it may have many issues, but Burnt Clay was my awakening. It was my pet, my baby, a major step in my journey of self discovery, for that I am forever grateful.
I was so unsure about writing Burnt Clay. At a point, a few chapters in, I almost deleted it. I used a pen name to hide my identity, my friends didn’t know it was I writing it until I was many chapters in (then they started threatening me for updates🙄) I still cringe when I hear some people (especially older relatives) have read it 😂, but I have gotten ALL 💯 positive reviews Alhamdulillahi.
I have gone on to write TLC and I’m working on BB (very slowly🙄😔), and I still do not feel that connection I had with Burnt Clay, hence my lack of commitment.
What was different? The purity and rawness of the portrayal of the story.
Burnt Clay was MY STORY (not literally, it isn’t my story at allllllll), but it dropped straight from my mind to my phone to get picked up by the readers mind. No filter, no panel beating, no trying to make it more ‘aesthetically appealing’, no trying to make it fit a typical story style; I wrote BC as it was and I still am yet to be this free with a story… probably adulting is making me go for more serious adult-acceptable story line and style and that just kills my story’s flow because I am such a child at heart.
I met a lot of wonderful writer/reader friends because of this story. We bonded on a high scale.
I made fans people. I have fans (Lmao, I still feel like an impostor).Till today, people message me about this book. I absolutely adore the characters. I love Sabira to my bone and I still want to be like her when I grow up.
Sometimes I still feel like why did I ever write it? Sometimes I still feel like is it worth people reading it? Most times I feel like it doesn’t have a future in print. But whatever may be, BC is and will probably keep being my first love and I am proud of our journey together.
My characters are real life people with emotions and a future in my mind. The book feels like a close old friend of my mind cum knight in shining armor.
The writing process felt like a big grand purge and the feeling of fulfillment and satisfaction afterwards is still indescribable.
But all these would’ve not been possible if I had listened to my first instinct and if I had stopped. So anyone, anyone that wants to write, push your instincts aside and unless you cringe at what you write and you know in your heart you won’t want to read it, write it.