How pursuing a writing passion saved my life by Khaled Talib

She was sixteen and I was nine.

I was born and raised in Singapore, in a house where books did not have to jostle for space on the shelf. There was always room for another. Majority of the books were in English, and they comprised fiction and non-fiction while a handful were in Arabic, mostly religious text. 

Colonial England had left a legacy, so it was standard for schools here to teach English. My family were more comfortable speaking English although Arabic and Malay were also used. I learned Malay as a second language in school because it was a key language in Southeast Asia. 

I was a slow reader during my primary school days until my mother introduced me to the works of a British children’s author, Enid Blyton. By nine, I was gorging books like a vampire needing blood to survive.  

One day, I found a box of books belonging to my mother and discovered a novel translated from French.  It was written by a sixteen-year-old French girl about her life in a public housing environment. I read the book’s blurb and felt inspired by this young talent. I was also impressed by her black and white photo on the back cover. She looked impressive in her dark pullover sitting on the windowsill of her apartment. So young and yet she had accomplished so much. I wanted to be like her―an author.

A young Hitchcock?

The young French author stayed in the back of my mind for a long time. When I was her age, I attempted to write a book. A detective mystery inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s Three Investigators. I wrote the story on a jotter book every day during school recess.  One day, I made the mistake of leaving the jotter book opened on my desk when I stepped out of class. A classmate saw it and made fun of me, causing me to abandon my effort. 

Somewhere around my twenties, I made a second attempt —this time, a financial thriller, having briefly worked for a brokerage house. I did not get too far with the manuscript as I did not understand the mechanics of writing a novel. 

While my school friends were talking about pursuing law, teaching, engineering and medicine, I wanted to explore my areas of strength. Since the idea of writing as a profession still appealed to me, I turned to journalism.  My first job as a staff writer for a tabloid-size industrial newspaper was a dead-end job. I had a simple task: Cut regional and worldwide newspaper articles, turn them into fifty-word summaries and fill them up the news in brief sections. Same thing every single day for a year and a half. 

From tabloid rewrites to tuxedo and caviar.

Bored with industrial news, I turned to the glossy world of magazine journalism.  I applied for the job as a reporter for The Singapore Tatler after seeing an advertisement in the newspaper. Remember The Devil Wears Prada? There is a lot of truth in that movie. During my second week, the general manager lost his job.  It did not help when I witnessed the publisher regularly threatening to fire the staff.   

In the beginning, I had a difficult time adjusting to the magazine’s style of writing. I kept making mistakes. Each month, I was assigned seven stories, which included research work, liaising with the photographers, arranging interviews, borrowing products from boutiques for photo shoots, and reviewing a restaurant or a new hotel menu. 

I could not afford to miss my deadlines. I had to find ways to work around situations, like the time I offered to interview a hobbyist pilot as he flew his private six-seater airplane around the island. 

There were times when my editor turned down my stories. They were not good enough as I had failed to ask the right questions. During afterhours, I was expected to show face at product launches, plays, food tastings and parties. My world was glitzy and glam and hectic… and not everyone was nice. 

The worst people were public relations managers of hotels and PR agencies. They will be nice to you when they need you. They will drop you the moment you leave the magazine. 

I have had my fair share of complaints (you get into trouble when you ask the wrong questions, especially when you deal with designers, their managers and boutique chain owners). You are at their mercy because they are advertisers. They think they can override you by complaining to your editor. Like the time the managing director of a famous English fashion brand complained about me to my editor after I had interviewed him.  Just my luck, the battery of my pocket recorder died while I was interviewing him.  Apparently, I was “unprofessional.” Somehow, I always managed to talk my way out of the situation. I have also had my fair share of verbal insults and even physical abuse. Once, a foreign diplomat choked me after I used a telephone in his residence to call a taxi. I am still not sure why he was so upset. The phone was in the foyer and everyone was using it. Well, he certainly inspired me to weave ugly characters into my thriller books. 

Some years later, I found myself working for another magazine. The magazine sent me to Argentina and Chile. I stayed at five-star hotels, rode horses, visited vineyards, learned how to tango and went skiing on the Chilean alps.  In exchange, I wrote a couple of travel features, and included a few food and wine reviews.  

Yes, indeed, I was going places, living an adventurous life. But I wanted something deeper, something more fulfilling. I did not want to write articles praising a dress, a new watch or a restaurant forever. The sixteen-year-old girl and Alfred Hitchcock still in my mind, I wanted to write thrilling and suspenseful stories that feature strong themes. 

Rejection and disappointment.

An editor of my first thriller novel, Smokescreen, commented on my ability to write in two tones. A rare thing, she said. Not only could I be descriptive, I could also write concise sentences. My experience in journalism did not go to waste. For me, the transition was organic, especially since for me writing a novel involves plenty of research—something I did not know until later. 

In the beginning, I was like Daniel in The Karate Kid who snapped at Mr. Miyagi for wasting his time doing chores. Daniel was impatient young man who never understood his Sensei’s motive. I thought journalism was a waste of time.  Little did I know until much later how my experience in journalism taught me how to research information and check my facts. It expanded my thinking and nurtured my imagination. 

I was ready to write a novel, but after receiving piles of rejection letters, I doubted myself and ended up working in the field of public relations. I became so adept that in no time I had my own company. Perhaps I was not cut out to be an author. It was just a dream.  

Even though I had a solid reputation in public relations, I considered my work worthless. However, I now value my experience in public relations where I learned how to pitch and position stories and clinch interviews—essential now that authors are expected to do their own marketing and PR.

Grit and determination.

I overcame my almost crippling doubts about my true calling with the help of my little voice (he is a stubborn one) who grew louder as the years went by. I packed my experiences and took it along with me on my journey along the path of becoming a full-time novelist. 

I made my way to the Fortress of Solitude (with permission from Superman and Supergirl on condition I never reveal its location). I cast my mind back to my adolescent years. I recalled the young French author. How did she do it? Where did she get the determination to go forth?  

I never had the courage to say out loud where my true passion lies. I have quietly dreamt of being like my inspirational mademoiselle. Instead, I came under pressure to make career decisions that should be practical or realistic. Because society demands perfection, it can paralyze and intimidate us from fulfilling our aspirations. Ultimately, I recognized the only person who can determine what job is right for me is me.  I was not yet ready to settle.

I left the frozen tundra ready to be an author, packed with grit. I was a writer before I knew I was a writer. At last, my true passion, I had found myself. 

Born and raised in Singapore, Khaled Talib is a former magazine journalist and public relations consultant with local and international exposure. He has worked full time for magazines including the Singapore Tatler and Egypt Today. His articles have been published and syndicated to newspapers worldwide and his short stories have appeared in literary journals and magazines. Talib is also a member of the International Thriller Writers. You can learn more about him at www.khaledtalibthriller.com

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