"Look around you nowadays - it seems like everybody wants to be a writer. You have all these creative writing classes being introduced. Who knows if they're any good?" my editor proclaimed to the jittery intern I was in my first week in the office.

"You should go find out more."

So off I went to have a look-see at the different creative writing classes found around town (two up and running and another in the pipeline, with yet another publicised but put on hold due to lack of response by the target audience).

In an art gallery somewhere around Bangsar, Class #1 was conducted by Sharon Bakar, one of the more experienced/well-known creative writing teachers in the area. On the walls were canvas paintings done in a clumsy and vivid manner, the outcome of a recent series of workshops for children. I could see myself buying one, if I had an extra RM1000. Heck, I didn't have enough money to pay for the full six-week course I was sitting in on that night, which was about a third of that.

There were seven women in the group, including the teacher. We began by listing different adjectives and nouns on two separate sheets of paper and later exchanging them among ourselves. Then we had to pen sentences using any adjective-noun combination.

"Just write. Don't think at all. Just write whatever comes to mind. It doesn't have to make sense," we were told.

Daffodils paint the periphery.

The jackrabbit exposes its soul.

Cuttlefish color the corals.

We talked about self-censorship and the pesky "little voice" that tells you your writing is rubbish. We shared our stories. One that stayed with me was a personal recollection of living in a religiously overzealous university campus, herd mentality et al. Not forgetting of course the questions on your personal life which were, well, rude.

"People used to always ask what race I belonged to. My stories changed every time and one of them was that my parents ran away from their respective homes to live somewhere far away, usually Siberia, where they met. And you know- they believed it!"

At ease

Admittedly, it was tough to write without first formulating your thoughts. This is also why I suppose we were asked to write a lot on our own personal experiences, things that are easier to invoke. Nobody would chastise you for what you write about growing up buck-toothed, for example.

As a slightly insecure person when it comes to writing, I felt very relieved and at ease with the supportive environment we had that evening, where everyone had a kind word to say about what you had scribbled down. So it wasn't so bad, this whole sharing your writing business. My initial nervousness overcome, I spent the next two hours writing, sharing and being delighted at what the others read out.

That night, I drove home resolute on writing a book or screenplay. Maybe, just maybe somebody might want to read what I have to say..

My next stop was Ninety Five Percent Sdn Bhd, a brand-spanking new company in the Bangsar area, which advertised itself as a provider of "specific writing skills training within a context of personal growth." Intrigued, I signed myself up for a two-hour introductory workshop, during which I was undercover.

Located on the first floor of a shop lot and above an automobile exhibition room was the company office a.k.a location of Class #2.

Ten minutes later than scheduled, our 'class' began with 14 participants and one facilitator. From Ninety Five Percent's brochure, I found out that our facilitator was an accomplished figure in the advertising industry and director of the company.

Organised in conference hall style, the room had chairs arranged in a semi-circle, each with a sheet of paper and pointy 2B pencil placed neatly on it.

I guess the ice-breaking games ought to have given it away. But I played on, conducting a mock interview with another participant, a pleasant lady who came in late and seemed disappointed from the start because it wasn't an introductory workshop on copy writing (another course offered at the company). We had to first say three good things about our partner, and then allow them to return the favour.

Now I hadn't met this woman before in my life, so you could imagine how I felt showering exaggerated praises on her clothes that evening (a floral print blouse and grey track bottoms) and her choice of handbag (a brown one with details I can't particularly remember). She too, gave her awkwardness and discomfort away when she commented half-heartedly on my smile and how I always seemed to have it on.

Toy with idea

Luckily for us, time ran out quickly for that particular exercise. The point of it? To demonstrate that self-expression is not always easy. Then, we had to write a short paragraph on "How to Crack an Egg," open to interpretation and without rules on what form of prose they had in mind. And then we took turns reading out what we had come up with, met with the staple triad of "Good, "Interesting," and "Well done" by the facilitator.

That was pretty much what happened that evening. Lots of very short activities that allowed you to play around with your writing and admittedly reach the conclusion that enrolling in their course was called for, or at least toy with the idea.

The whole workshop went fine until the facilitator flipped her easel pad and started describing their course price and schedule, followed by telling us to meet in groups with the instructors of the courses, who had been sitting in a corner of the room and observing the whole thing. Yes, yes they were a company selling a product so of course there was the need to constantly advertise and take every opportune moment to remind us that registration was open, but I just felt rushed and reminded that there was something expected from my attendance. What happened to no-strings-attached surveying?

Sitting in the LRT on the journey home that night, I gathered my thoughts on the experience. The truth is, I knew from the start that I would not sign up for the course because it was a few thousand ringgit a pop. But more than that, I felt uneasy with the whole concept that they were marketing; the Dale Carnegie meets story writing course was a bit too hokey for me. Just like the global corporate training enterprise, the company had an approach that employed the ability to write as a means to 'market' oneself better and I feared that this end could diminish the pleasure and fulfillment of writing in itself.

I could see myself feeling shortchanged if I were coached by a person to write not to bring out the 'little voice' within me, but to bring myself to fit the mold of 'ideal employee' when I start job-hunting. I don't want my writing, something I consider very genuine and honest, to be bundled together with how I can appear more attractive as a job candidate (this leaning towards advancement specifically in one's career was gathered from the workshop and company literature). I would rather keep the two separate. Think about it: If you raise your eyebrows at claims that you can have 'creative writing' taught, what about having 'personal growth and development' touted as the returns for a three month course?

The questions continued to bug me. What is it with writing so-called "creatively", that nobody seems to think they are able to do so without having someone else 'teach' them? Was the term 'creative' creating distance between us and actually producing works? Was it intimidating? "Creative writing is one of those buzzwords that don't really mean anything. Why do we have to use the term creative anyway? It just creates fear in a writer," said Raman, manager of independent publisher cum bookstore, Silverfish Books.

Whine and complain

I wanted to find out what he thought about the state of (published) English works in the country. It seemed like a natural progression to wonder whether the increased (albeit small) interest in creative writing courses implied more people writing, which then leads to them having their works submitted and a few eventually published. Maybe people were getting more comfortable with what they put to paper and felt ready to have their works shared with a larger audience.

"People used to whine and complain, "There is nobody to publish my work" and "There is not enough support for me as a young unknown writer to enter the scene" by having their work published. And now here I am asking for manuscripts and not one comes in."

Why-lah like that?

"People don't understand that being a writer requires discipline, and a lot of it at that. With all the lepak-ing that happens over here, we just sit for hours on end talking and nothing much else."

Why villify our teh tarik and roti canai escapades?

"I am not villifying, it's just that we Malaysians take lepak-ing too seriously. It is like an art. For example, would somebody invited to a mamak stall on a night slated for work on their writing turn down the invitation?"

"We try too much to please people."

I figured he must have known what he was talking about, since the neighborhood his office is in is surrounded by these 24-hour haunts.

"Talking about creative writing. We used to host a session of these courses, and until today not even one of the former participants has become an author."

Was it ever their plan? Maybe they joined these classes to share and develop work that was not to go beyond their own bedside reading and small family gatherings.

"No, these people actually say that they want to write, to be published. What happened?" In brain-picking mode, I approached two young publishers, one who had just started a company and another who comes from a family of publishers but is currently working in film and broadcasting. While they dealt primarily with works in Malay, they both had experience in writing both in English and Malay.

"Creative writing is one of those misnomers you hear around you, like Progressive Islam. The religion is supposed to be progressive to begin with, no?" responded Ruhayat from Neohikayat to my question.

"It's just called so to distinguish it from other forms of writing, like business or technical writing."

"Writing works for me to carry my thought process through; if I ever feel like questioning events that happen around me, I write," he says, telling me that he stepped up the pace after September 11 and the string of events that came

after it.

"Yes, it can be very scary to start the writing process. You have to look deep

inside since (creative) writing comes from within; its something you make up."

Honing skills

After concurring on the fact that creative writing classes were a tad pricey, he went on to say that given the chance, he would register for one. As a way to keep your sword sharp, and share experiences.

"It's always good to hone your skills, although not necessarily to become a writer. And if your instructor is an accomplished writer him/herself, it would always be helpful to hear where they get their inspirations and how they add on to their observations."

"The closest I came to taking a creative writing class was A-Levels Literature; I got a C," chirped Dhojee in the meeting room of his office in a terrestrial TV station. "I do however find participating in writer's seminars helpful, as you meet different people and can critique one another's work."

"I suppose creative writing classes could serve as a platform for aspiring writers. It gives you background and technical knowledge, which some might find helpful. It is not necessary though. Think of it like film school; you can still make films without going to film school. In fact, many people do. In writing, nothing beats having a brutal editor to do the trick, though."

"You have to be brave if you want to write. Your writing has to reach an audience, and it's up to them to judge whether you're creative or not."

"There must be a big sense of responsibility for what you write; what you put on paper can affect people. It is very important to also be humble, and find virtue in the works of others, and see how they reflect against yours."

"Calling it "creative" writing can make people hesitate, and we might make scare people away from writing. I think people still just don't write though, regardless of the reasons they put forward," he lamented ruefully.

Alternative views

On the subject of being creative, I figured that academia would be a field where

ideally, boundaries would be pushed in a fertile ground of exchange and debate. But what's the situation on the home front? Are we living in a society governed

by a system that dulls and lulls? What role does creativity play in our universities?

"The education system in this country doesn't inculcate creative thinking; there's too much focus on science and technology. Being creative is not encouraged because it invariably means having alternative views," proclaimed Professor Faridah Abd. Manaf from the Department of English Language and Literature, International Islamic University. I prodded further upon learning that the department was making plans to offer creative writing as a component of their program.

"In the Malaysian context, I envision a creative writing class where teachers respect the students' voices and try not to interfere too much even incorrecting the language and structure of the work. It is after all creative work. Teachers can show various examples to help students learn of other ways and styles of writing and creating."

It was apparent that she was a skeptic when it came to private creative writing classes. "I'm very suspicious of these ready made creative writing workshops and facilitators. Are they truly trained in the discipline, which has nowadays become very specialised? I'd check the background of facilitators and workshop

givers. It is not enough having being published as a creative writer once or twice especially if it's in the same publication."

A believer in the therapeutic qualities of writing, Prof. Hazidi Abdul Hamid from The School of Media and Communications, Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia was keen on seeing creative writing appear more frequently on students' academic schedule.

"I believe creative writing is a very valuable course to offer and to take even if you do not want to be a writer, what more a budding writer. In this increasingly maddening world these courses should be a must for all university students, but I know this is too much to ask."

As a respite from the usual academic workload, perhaps?

"No, I believe that it should be taken as part of or in addition to normal academic work. Personally, I have found that being able to sit in front of the computer and knock out several pages of creative work helps me to think about my more academic work. If you concentrate too much on something you might lose it entirely but if you allow your mind to take its own course letting the left as well as right brain work, you will be far more productive and happier," he answered, as I amused myself with the thought of having LAN: Penulisan Kreatif in our midst at some point in the future.

ADRIANA NORDIN MANAN is an intern with malaysiakini.