Goodbye to freelance writing

It's official. My freelance writing career has come to an end.

No more contributions or short columns in the Straits Times: Youthink. No more set piece articles for the Business Times Campus Life.

The Government simply can't let one of its civil servants run amok and write to (or for) the media. And as an employee, I can't moonlight with a second career.

Writing has, in a way, been a form of rebellion for me. It has been about speaking up, challenging the status quo at times, or advocating a certain point of view, even if it is not the most popular. Disagreements can happen but in the best of scenarios, we all agree to disagree. The freedom to write is addictive but it comes with a price: exposed to public scrutiny, you have to stand by everything that you write, or risk your credibility.

But after more than four years, seeing fellow writers and editors come and go, and with more 40 pieces to my name, I still believe that I have so much room for improvement. Writing, while soothing and therapeutic, can also expose your shortcomings and vulnerabilities, fears and regrets, because writing demands a certain level of critical self-evaluation and frankness that many will shy from.

But it's not entirely over. Writers, as people, can evolve too.

This summer, I have a new vision: to visit at least three different countries a year, preferably on a backpacking trip, and write about these trips. There is aplenty to write about their history and culture, the wonderful people that you meet, the crazy things that you do, and the insights that you get.

I especially enjoy the flood of ideas and excitement whenever a new experience emerges, time slows down when all of my senses are activated, and I tell myself," Man, I'm so gonna write about this."

Alas, a lot of these "real, in-your-face" experiences will never be possible on a guided working trip which includes living in hotels and taken to sight-seeing places in an air conditioned bus. To fully experience life in another country, one has to trudge it out on foot, brave the traffic conditions, eat street food, and mingle with the man on the street. But as one grows older, that becomes less possible.

But till then, the dictum remains the same: the pen is certainly mightier than the sword, while words can be sharper than the finest blade, and louder than the biggest guns in the world.