Two weeks ago I had tea with a writer. No one famous... not as yet anyway. But he had something interesting to say about writing in between tea-cups of calming Earl Grey. Maybe it was the bergamot-oil the brand is so famous for and it triggered off the conversation we had.
"Writing opens up all sorts of possibilities," he said. "Possibilities to put our thoughts, observations, ideas and even suggestions on paper. Or screen."

I noticed he had his Macbook with him, propped against the white patio-chair.
"There is always an idea for a story, a report, a review or even some poetry.
Whenever something comes up I write it down. Or key it in. Words. It is just there in the air. "
And when it arranges itself into thoughts, it inspires him.
"Does this happen all the time?," I question him.
He nodded his head. After taking the last bit of the shortbread, he added
"Even while I am asleep. So I keep a notebook by my night stand. To write down ideas and insights and not miss a thing."

He has always enjoyed writing, even when he was in school. "I think I began to think of writing as a craft even when I was in school. I took a lot of trouble to plan my essays. Teachers always insisted that we organise our essays and thoughts with a strong introduction, a body of points that expand our ideas in the essay title. And we had to end to our essays with a meaningful conclusion. My teacher always referred to the concluding point in our essays as the signature."
He has never forgotten the advice.

"I enjoyed composing essays and I liked to give a lot of thought to what the essay title demanded. I spent time thinking about crafting sentences that made my ideas sparkle and interesting. Now looking back at it, I think I wanted to do well to impress my teacher. Her comments at the end of my essay gave me the motivation to do better.

"In a way I think I trained myself to be a writer ever since I wrote essays on balmy afternoons in my primary school. It wasn't long before my teacher began to submit my essays for district-level competitions where I not only won prizes but challenged myself to do better," he recalls.

Wanting to write better led to another habit that became a lifelong passion. He is always on the lookout for books and spends a lot of money buying books he is interested in.

"I picked up this strong interest in reading. I wanted to read and analyse what others wrote. The school library was well-stocked so I was able to read books on art history, history and literature. I think through reading I became more aware of words, sentences and language too.

"By the time I left school I knew that Jane Austen was not merely telling pretty stories or that Charles Dickens loved to tell stories about orphan children. These writers used their writing to make observations and comments about the places, times and people they lived with."
Poets too, he says don't just create pretty verses about the skies, earth and sea. "They use these pretty words to make us think beyond the skies, earth and sea."

Of course there were also the newspapers which he loved to read. It wasn't surprising that he went to work in the newspapers. It was a national newspaper and more than the excitement of meeting people that made the news he found the challenge of developing his writing even more satisfying.

"It was a different way of writing, it had its own style and different methods of writing. You report news, write feature stories and interview people. It was fascinating. You learn so much in the newsroom. One basic thing you first learn is to understand what is news and what is not news," he added.

We boiled more water to make more tea. While waiting for the tea to be brewed I bravely asked him,
"So how do you decide what is news and what is not?"
Pausing awhile he inhaled deeply and shared what he said some of his old editors taught him about news and newspapers.

Simply put in exceptional circumstances a dog biting a man is not really news. Unless it is part of a bigger story. But a man biting a dog is news by itself.
I poured him another cup of tea. He suddenly took out his notebook and began to scribble. I knew he was writing down some idea that just struck him.
I don't know what it was that struck him. Maybe it was the aroma of the tea. Or maybe it was a collection of words or a string of sentences.