Four years ago, around the time I started this blog, my wish was to write a novel about the country I live in, Malaysia.
I wanted to write my version of the Great Malaysian Novel, something that delivered the essence of Malaysia within 100,000 words or so. A novel that would bring together varied characters that reflected the many aspects of Malaysiana, yet without descending into the stereotypical tropes the Malaysian Tourism Board seems to celebrate.
That was then. I have since realised several awkward things about my ambition. I don't know enough about my own country to write about it. And the most awkward: I've fallen out of love with my country. I no longer want to write about the things I wanted to write about, because everything just makes me feel sick.
How to continue? My only solution right now is to wait for the malaise to fade away. In the mean time, my fantasy novel(s?) get written.
Maybe what I'm trying to say is, I'm just not old enough; not experienced enough.