Luck vs Writing

It’s wrong to associate luck with writing and consider a successful writer as lucky and unsuccessful one as ill-fated.

As far as a writer is concerned luck is a myth and so is ill-fate.

Someone might be fortunate enough while doing certain things due to personal charm or aura and succeeds in it mysteriously.

This is not so in writing.

No writer brings luck with them to the table of writing. No luck makes readers want to read a writer’s book nor make publishers want to publish his book. No luck pushes a writer’s book to the threshold of great works.

In other words, a lucky writer doesn’t exist, neither does an unlucky writer. All writers have an equal right to succeed.

So, do no thank your stars when you’re succeeding at it. Do not thank your luck for being a successful writer but be glad that your hard work paid off.

Do not blame your stars for not doing so well as a writer, or when your book fails to attract the attention of the publishers. Look into your writing and find out what and what you have been doing wrong and find a way to make it better.

Do this,

Keep luck away from your writing, either good luck or bad luck. Rather, be preoccupied with the task of getting yourself educated on how to write even better. Then work hard on improving your writing day after day.

Good Luck In your Writingđź’”

Happy Writing❤

Life Again

The pearly tears dropped on his johnny gown and soaked in. He had less than a week to live. He knew it would soon happen; the long-awaited day would soon sneak in to bring his existence to an end.

The malign tumours had stretched their deadly tentacles in his cells and had incapacitated him – just like the other ailments; the bunch of inmates at ease within him, gradually and heartlessly pulling up the roots holding his life, one by one, bit by bit. They mercilessly pulled at it every passing day, slowly killing him.

He felt like a pulp, a rotting vegetable; beaten and weakened.

He had heard painful cries of mourners, grieving over bereavement of their loved ones who couldn’t make it to the next day and had thought about the awaited day; the day his family would do the same.

His wife approached him, held him firmly on both shoulders, jerked him as if it would give him tons of strength to go on. She raised his face and his eyes to hers.

“Be strong! Do you hear me? Be strong! You’ll survive this,” she said to him.

If only she knew how far his spirit had gone.

He studied her briefly. She looked strong outwardly but deeply chattered within.

He sighed and looked away. His eyes fell on his sons who hid their sorrows behind massive veils of pseudo-bravery, chested out to prove to him that his end won’t be any time near.

But, he was not deceived. He knew they knew and were sure it won’t be long before the end.

“Dad stop!” Reacted his younger son. “You’re going to survive this. Don’t you trust God can turn things around and make you healthy again? Are you now belittling God in this situation? Be strong dad! Be strong!”

But that was easier said than done because right after the admonitions, same son of his had hurried to the hospital recess to get emotional. He later returned to him with bloodshot eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

The sick man wiped his tears, swallowed hard. He raised his failing eyes to look at the other patients sitting around who gave him encouraging smiles, he smiled back but sadly. Each one of them had a terrible health journey. The stories they told him had revealed worse cases than his.

Weakness of willpower disables physical strength. Strong will, keeps you going,” his sick friend had visited and had told him in a shaky whisper -“Be strong here,” he had said striking his chest weakly. “Look at me man, I’m a walking dead right? But I won’t waste my tears on something that’s not going to happen. I won’t.”

He had died the next day anyway but his strength lived after him.

The sick man braced himself and toughened up; not to work on himself but on the contrary- to lament over his predicament.

“Take me home!” He sang sadly. “Take me home. The time has come to go home.”

“Oh, come on darling, don’t be harsh on yourself now,” his wife said holding his hand- tears rolling down her eyes.

“Do I desire to live on?” He continued in what sounded less like a whisper, “Yes! But of what use is my desire when fate will eventually take its cause? If I…..”

“Dad stop, your BP will rise with that, please be calm. Calm down,” his older son almost shouted.

“Be strong honey! Be strong!” He heard his wife’s voice as he felt like fainting and saw his son’s tears as everything began to fade, he saw the emergency unit fading away just like the paramedics rolling his bed and the doctors and nurses calling his name.

The white light peered in and dazzled. Then nothing but absolute darkness.

Next –

He felt tremendous joy as they all walked on.

Suddenly, he heard his name from behind.

He turned back but saw nothing but thick darkness. Then a dazzling white light, then voices.

“Where am I” he whispered to himself.

He saw their faces. It’s life again.

African Proverbs – Not Giving Up

The cricket is never blinded by the sand of its burrowing.
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An oil lamp feels proud to give light even though it wears itself away.
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A bird does not change its feathers because the weather is bad.
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It is only the toad that gets up from its knees and falls back again on its knees.
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It’s not only the fox, but even the snail also arrives at its destination.
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When a person regrets endlessly, he gets to pay more for what he regrets.
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The swoop of an eagle has seen many seasons and floods.
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However long the moon disappears, one day, it must shine again.
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Who says the oasis in the desert is happy because of its hidden spring of water?
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The praying mantis is never tired waiting all day.
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African Proverbs On Not Giving Up
Proverbs are the daughters of experience.

My Mistakes In Series #8

I woke up in the morning and felt so sick. It was an awful feeling, as if I was living in another person’s body – a very ill person.

I thought about the previous night, about Rebecca and the couple she brought to my room and the purpose of their visit. I hoped I hadnt broken any rule by talking to Rebecca who should be part of the home.

I didnt’ want to get into any trouble in the Secret Home, my only hidden shelter at the moment. Rebecca had declined my request to stay at her place in my reprehensible situation – afraid of some irksome outcome.

I thumbed the button on my bed and in less than few seconds, ‘auntie’ opened the door as usual – without knocking and walked in.

“Good morning auntie!” She responded to my greeting and walked to my bedside.

I feel horribly sick,” I said.

”It’s normal. Some days will be like this. Your baby is growing, ” she said as she checked my temperature. “You need to see the doctor immediately. He might suggest you start antenatal visits to be on a safer side,” she said as she brought out a note from her pocket and wrote something on it.

“Where am I seeing the doctor?”

“Within this home,” she said. I wished I could be given an opportunity to talk with any of my parents – over the phone of course. I also wanted to see the town. It was getting to two days since I had been confined to my room. I needed some outside air. I wanted to take a walk beyond the gates.

“Are you too sick to discuss a pressing issue with me?” I braced myself for whatever it might be. I knew it could be unpleasant considering her tone.

“It’s okay. I can talk.”

“Why did you allow those visitors into your room last night?” She asked.

“You mean Rebecca and the couple?”

“If her name is Rebecca, yes.”

“She’s the lady who brought me here.”

“Now listen. As far as this home is concerned, she’s a visitor and be informed that the management will be meeting with you this evening regarding that visit. You committed a huge offence The Rule.”

“What? Why?”

“I warned you. I warned you about talking to someone else other than me in this home.”

“You told them.”

“I didn’t,”

“How did….?”

“You should know that I’m not the only one who keeps an eye on you. There are people with bigger eyes and more efficient ears than I have. They know everything that happen in this home.”

I kept quiet and thought about the worse thing that could happen to me – being kicked out of the home.

“Dress up and have your breakfast. The doctor will soon be here.”

I nodded and watched her close the door.

If I escaped the forthcoming punishment, I would respect the Rules, all of it.