My interest in writing came from my love of listening to stories and telling them. My grandmother and her sisters, then my mother always fed me with stories every night in a decade where the only entertainment was the radio.
I listened to made-up stories, folktales, movie stories, and stories about my father growing up. I still remember a night-out during a trip, one of my mum’s cousin started telling us ghost stories. All of the good stuff must have rubbed off because I started telling stories when I was 10 or 11.
I had a huge fan following amongst my younger cousins – bless the days when holidays were spent in each other’s homes for a week or more.
I perhaps stopped because life interrupted my telling. School, college, work and growing up meant very little time with nieces and nephews.
When I started teaching creative writing, I got another eager audience and I started to tell a story a week after class. They were all ghost stories as Singapore is so much into that genre.
But in front of an audience, I almost always chicken out. Though I love making jokes, noises and voices, I have turned into an adult who can’t goof around.
So this month I joined the Storytelling Circle in London. I’m going to beat my fears with training, learning and a lot of practice.