Then after I left home for boarding school, my aspiration of creative writing plummeted. Big time. I seemed like to overlook the thrill of by some means trying to put my thoughts into writing.
Then there was Wuthering Heights by Charlotte’s sister, Emily Bronte which is very haunting for me. Jane Eyre is great, more to grown-up abit more mature chemistry between a man and a woman.
Not even half way through, it took me quite a short interlude while reading it ‘cos it suddenly appeared to me that Here on Earth bears a really striking resemblance in both plot and classical dramatic characters in Wuthering Heights.
So much for being a creative author, eh?
Told 'ya. It's not easy at all.