This is a story about writing I’ve told on social media before, but I think it’s good to have it documented here.

I wasn’t always a writer. In fact, after finishing high school I spent a few years where I barely read any books at all. While studying in Germany, however, I decided to give writing a try.

The Book

It was 2012, and I had just fallen back in love with reading. University was dull and I wasn’t getting the best marks since I failed to see why any of this mattered. A while earlier, in fact, a Large Man with Hard Eyes said to me, “It’s a pity, but I suppose you’ll waste your life away.”

And so books were a welcome distraction from the boring, monotonous agony of classes. In fact, it was a particular book- The Name of The Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. In fact, it was a particular line.

It was deep and wide as autumn’s ending. It was heavy as a great river-smooth stone. It was the patient, cut-flower sound of a man who is waiting to die.”

The Name of The Wind

Once you read that kind of line, it’s hard not to get hooked. And so I got hook, reading this book day-in, day-out until I finished it.

One day, I was ranting and raving about this book to a friend of mine on a slow, bouncing bus in Marburg, Germany. “This book is the best thing eve!” I said. “Rothfuss is a genius!”

And my friend looked at me and said, “Why don’t you write something like that?”

“Nonesense,” I scoffed. “You can’t just write a book, you need a-” I paused.

What did you need to write a book? As far as I could tell, you just needed:

• A lot of previous reading experience to draw from
• Knowledge of technique
• Practice

Well… I could probably just give it a shot, didn’t I?

The Writing

That day, I sat in my apartment with the golden sunlight streaming through the window. In the back of my mind, I remembered the words of The Tall man who said I would be wasting my life.

And I began to write. Once I started, I could not stop. The feeling was akin to finding an activity which put me in harmony with my own existence. It made sense that I was scatterbrained- I was just daydreaming! It made sense that I found it hard to speak for long- I was always trying to tell stories without understanding structure!

This act, writing, made me feel strong. A power bubbled up from my spirit, ready to be channeled through pure imagination.

Or at least, it showed that I had the passion which would let me continue writing until I could one day get good at it! Whether I’m good or not is not for me to decide, after all, it’s something that readers would decide.

A Happy Ever After?

However, what writing DID change is the course of my learning and career. Writing gave me technique and an interest in news, which led to a short training period at the Times of Oman. That training period then turned into a job as a journalist, which then prompted MB Group to choose me as their Content Creator and Editor.

My first days writing were a long time before my books like Sarim (a novel about jinn-hunters in Muscat), and I still can’t really say if I’ve wasted my days or not. I do love writing, and I’m happy that I’ve been able to make it my job so far.

It’s strange how your passion can creep up on you. If you find yourself in a position where a hobby gives you pure, unquenchable fire- I say follow that passion as far as it will take you.

Bonus: A while back I met the Tall Man, and he said that I’ve done quite well for myself so far.