My First Loves

You know when you have sinned to a point where your conscience becomes numb? When you no longer feel the prick of guilty that is normal for a "derailer"? Yup! That's the region I have wandered into where blogging is concerned. I feel like all hope is lost...which of the months of silence will I mourn? So instead of taking a step on the path of redemption, I sigh and drift further into the dark silence.

Do other bloggers suffer this plight or is it just that I was never meant to start this blog and now its become like meat stuck in my throat; half in my mouth, and half in my digestive tract? Lol

I'm here today cos of a friend who made me realize how far off the path I have wandered. For the first time in a long while, I was reminded of my scorned First Loves. There was Reading and then there was  Writing. This days, I seem to have shuned them in favour of current affairs and pursuits like Work and Odiba. But today, I remembered a time before I ever thought of work and boys. A time when I clung fastidiously to novels hours before an examination. I remembered a time when I day-dreamed of publishing my first book before clocking 25. *Sigh! There's so much to remember and little to show where my first loves are concerned.

Then I wonder, "Am I beyond redemption?"

I hope not. I still want to live vicariously through characters in the books of my best writers but even more, I want others to live so through characters created by me. I want to weave tales that would have people in unbreakable spells; the kind that Francine Rivers, Danielle Steel, Wilbur Smith and Frank Peretti  amongst others have cast on me.

Do you remember the first novel you owned? I remember mine. It was a collection of 2 of  the books from the Chronicles of Narnia series by C.S Lewis; Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia and The Voyage of The Dawn Treader. Someone gave it to me for my 10th birthday. I read and re-read it back then when I had no idea what a hit it would become over  decade after. I still have a small piece of the book and would probably keep it for some more years or until Odiba throws it out, charging me with cluttering. Many thanks to that unknown person who initiated me into the cult of books and fiction.

As a first step in the right direction, Am thinking of reading something new. An unknown author would be preferable. So someone, anyone, please recommend a GOOD therapeutic book to cure me of my numbness. Pretend that this is me coming back in time to say "Thank you for a worthy recommendation"