WHY I WRITE

by Dunstan Chan

11/4/13

           “Why I write?” I gather that this is a question that visits many a writer when he is in the depth of isolation, wrestling to put into written form the inchoate ideas that float around in his head.

My immediate response to that question is a Descartes-esque “I speak, therefore I write”. Yes, I write because I speak. I have been a public speaker for many years before I tried to put into permanent form that which have been ephemeral and transient – the ideas I uttered through my speeches.

Why do I speak? I speak because I was afraid to speak. I was in the Fifth Form when I was roped in as the replacement speaker in an Inter-school debate between Sacred Heart Boys School and St. Elizabeth Convention School. The first choice speaker was my good friend Eric whom I was convinced faked illness on the big day to avoid making a fool of himself in front of the girls in town.

Well, someone did make a fool of himself that day. How I managed to stay on my feet for the full five minutes on stage on that day is still a mystery to me. The school assembly hall was just a sea of blurry faces (though I did notice a few girls from our sister school sniggering away at my discomfiture). I am convinced that I spoke in English on that day but my friends were equally convinced that I was speaking in Foochow. Sibu is a Foochow town.

The traumatic experience left a scar on psyche, a scar I was determined to erase. It took many years – public speaking courses, elocution classes, a law degree and an admission to the English Bar – before I emerged from that shadow of the demon called stage fright.

I only confirmed to myself that I was a public speaker at a class reunion. At that reunion party Eric who put me in that awkward position on stage many years ago admitted that he feigned sickness because he was afraid to go on stage during the school debate.

Like all these re-union things we tried to catch up with lost time.

“What do you do now?” most we would ask.

There was a preponderance of doctors, engineers, accountants, lawyers and practitioners of the main professions in our ranks. To them the answer was simple. But it took me a few seconds to gather my thoughts before blurted out “I am a professional speaker”.

“Oh, really?” my classmates would asked incredulously.

“Yes, really, I am,” I reply as I realized that by then I have been on the speaking and training circuit for many years.

Six years ago the chief editor of our local English daily asked me if I care to write a Sunday column for his paper. “After all you have been expressing your ideas orally for many years. Just write them out.” I suppose he could be forgiven for making such a simplistic assumption. Public speaking and writing are as similar, and as different, as oranges and lemons.

I foolhardily accepted the challenge and almost as soon panic set in. How could I come up with something for the whole world to read (yes, nowadays with the internet and online publication, it is the whole world) and not made too much of a fool of myself? And what if come Saturday afternoon (my deadline) and I still stare at a blank screen on my computer?

It has been nearly six years and 300 articles published; somehow I have not missed a beat. The weekly deadline gave me the impetus to write. I have to search for topics constantly. In so doing, my life has changed. It was as if I have been given a new pair of glasses – a more powerful one. I begin to see things that I did not notice before – to appreciate more fully the splendour of the world and the beings that occupy it. I have added more life to my life.

So really, the question should not be “why I write” but “why I didn’t write earlier?”