Unexpected thoughts come to your mind sometimes. Just like the thought of writing came to me. One day I went to a reading, and I saw this writer-singer read from his debut novel, and suddenly when I returned home I just wanted to write. Just like that.
I recently read Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, and I was quite surprised to read that Murakami had such an unexpected calling to becoming a writer too. Until I’d read Murakami, which was recently, I wondered how I’d admit that my desire too came from nowhere. It wasn’t based on anything, except a keen desire to do something with my life.
As I listened to this writer read from his manuscript about a deaf and mute boy who wins an Olympics race, something stirred inside me, and I accepted the intense tug that I felt in my heart.
So, here I am, being the writer that I wanted to be 🙂 Here’s the excerpt from Murakami’s book that I’d like to share where he talks about becoming a novelist. Enjoy!
I can pinpoint the exact moment when I first thought I could write a novel. It was around one-thirty in the afternoon of April 1, 1978. I was at Jingu Stadium that day, alone in the outfield drinking beer and watching the game…Hilton got a hit down the left field line. The crack of bat meeting ball right on the sweet spot echoed through the stadium. Hilton easily rounded first and pulled up to second. And it was at that exact moment that a thought struck me: You know what? I could try writing a novel. I still can remember the side open sky, the feel of the new grass, the satisfying crack of the bat. Something flew down from the sky at that instant, and whatever it was, I accepted it.
I never had any ambitions to be a novelist. I just had this strong desire to write a novel. No concrete image of what I wanted to write about, just the conviction that if I wrote it now I could come up with something that I’d find convincing. When I thought about sitting down at my desk at home and setting out to write I realized I didn’t even own a decent fountain pen. So I went to the Kinokuniya store in Shinjuku and bought a sheaf of manuscript paper and a five-dollar Sailor fountain pen.A small capital investment on my part.
What beautiful words! It brought such gladness to my heart. If you have an unexpected story to share, I’d love to hear.
Love and hugs,