Pain and Pleasure of Writing – Confession of a Writer

Writing a novel is like making love, but it's also like having a tooth pulled. Pleasure and pain. Sometimes it's like making love while having a tooth pulled - Dean Koontz

I guess the above mentioned quote said it all in one line. Writing a novel is a journey. It begins from a blank page. It ends with a world and its’ people. But how exactly writers cross the path? How they fill out the blankness with words and create an entire world? How?

Some days back a very witty friend of mine had said – ‘If you have the time to read and think blah, blah, blah, you can write a novel.’ I had curled my fingers and prayed for control. No, I did not have the urge to strike the idiot. I had to fight the bubble of laughter that threatened to emerge out at the comment. Man, I truly do have a talent for finding friends. But they help, you know. They give me ideas for blog posts and they make damn good characters.

Anyways, when the urge to laugh died down, I sat back and pondered what he had said. If you have time to read and think blah, blah, blah…well really? It bothered me to realize that the world view us as a bunch of nobodies with ample of time to read and think blah, blah, blah. Frankly guys writing a novel takes a lot more than reading and thinking blah. Blah, blah. It takes desire and unyielding passion.  

If you are not born with the desire you are not a writer. What do you think? Why a group of people endure rejections, mockeries and harsh criticisms and still continue writing? What makes them cry in seclusion when no one is watching and then wipe the tears to write yet another novel or short story or poem? It is passion. We are fortunate or unfortunate enough to born with it. We cannot give up. We are the prisoners of our own desires. But, the strange fact is we don’t want to be free of the captivity.   

So, what exactly do we do? How we write novels, poems, short stories? I am sure about any of you. I can only say about myself. To me it is like the above mentioned quote, a fusion of pleasure and pain. I begin with utter zeal and dreams of being the next best seller. I dream of attending book signings and getting mobbed by the admirers. With this glow I begin writing. As the process continues and I head towards the middle, slowly and painfully, dreams wane and reality creeps forward. This is the time I walk straight into walls (no I don’t call them blocks). I tear the pages and blow the pieces in the air (yes, I write the first draft with pen and paper). I bare my fangs at about everyone. I transform into a whole new person.

Believe me the picture is not nice enough. Writing takes away a lot of things and demands sacrifices. These we do willingly, if not happily. I have given up watching television. Although I have never been a TV freak, I used to watch an hour of TV everyday. That I have replaced with a session of reading. I avoid attending parties unless I absolutely must. Once a month I do step out in style and attend a get together of some kind. These are not sacrifices, I am investing my time into something that matters to me.

So, you see we are not born with all the time of the world. We make times for what we love. If anything, we are always hard pressed for time. You know why? Because we live double lives. We balance day job and writing everyday and survive to tell the tale. Some tales, we never tell. We never talk about rejections and negative feedbacks. These we deal in isolation.

If you are a writer, you must have heard words that hurt. Take them and move forward and keep writing. Don’t let the world pull you down on your knees and keep you there (yes, I borrowed that from my favorite character Rocky Balboa).

This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until its done. It's that easy, and that hard ― Neil Gaiman

Suffering from Writer’s Block? Sure I Believe You

We, writers, suffer from many romantic notions. We think that we are different (may be some of us are). We think we are born with the blessing called imagination. We prefer to spend time in isolation. And we blame writer’s block for everything that is wrong in our lives. Been there and done that. Every time I scream my heart out and humiliate someone close, I put the blame on writer’s block. It’s like blaming God for everything that is wrong in my life. God does not defy and thus He is the easiest target.

It’s easy you know and it’s handy. This is something people don’t understand. Those who don’t write, don’t know what blockage is. I know this and so does everyone who calls themselves writer with pride. It is romantic to walk into a dry well. It is almost God like to feel something that others don’t understand.

The reality is another matter all together. The reality is…writer’s block does not exist. Yes, it does not. I am a writer and I have never faced a block in my life. I blame it on the block when nothing else works.  It’s a guise that I wear to conceal the fact that I have been lazy.

There's no such thing as writer's block. That was invented by people in California who couldn't write ― Terry Pratchett

If you call yourself a writer, you gotta have the passion or the dream of making it to the publication someday. Respect your craft. Respect your skill. And respect your passion. Don’t create something that does not exist just for the heck of it. People without writing experience may believe you. But those who know the craft, those who write and those who write everyday, will not believe you. In their eyes, you will be nothing but an excuse creator. I came to realize this – the hard way.

The only reason you can't write is because you don't ― A.A. Patawaran, Write Here Write Now: Standing at Attention Before My Imaginary Style Dictator

I am into content writing for the last two years. I am writing even since I have learnt to speak. I know a thing or two about the craft. The worst thing that may happen is you will produce trash. But you cannot write, that you are suffering from a block, I am sorry my friend, this is just an excuse for not writing.

Writer's block' is just a fancy way of saying 'I don't feel like doing any work today ― Meagan Spooner  

Creative writing requires thinking and you may face a problem in imagining things and that may linger for a day or two. But this romanticism is not applicable in content writing. The only way you can face a block is by writing too much. Too many words or articles can turn you into a zombie. But if you are not writing or writing one  blog post per day and still blaming it on writer’s block, you are committing a sin.

Okay, let’s assume, you are really suffering from this block. That you are really finding it hard to write. I will still ask you what you are doing about it. What action are you taking to overcome the block? Be honest to yourself and answer this.

You see I am not trying to call you a liar. I hardly give a damn about what you are doing. It is just that you are lying to yourself and your passion. It’s your craft that will suffer and sometimes your clients who have trusted you to deliver the job. It’s about time you stop lying and get the things done.

So, next time do us a favor and find another excuse. We have been writing for too long to believe you. 

This World is a Projection of Your Own Mind

You are a big personality in your own mind only. This comment has been hurled at me few days ago. By whom? You won’t know as the person is a fucking nobody. Yeah, true, that’s what he is and yet…

I was dumbstruck for a moment. I wondered – what the fuck? How can someone who has done nothing to write history about can say this? Had it been John Grisham, I would have bowed acceptance. But to hear it from someone who frames sentences that require deciphering? Well that gets me fucking pissed. But, hey…wait a minute. He is right, I am a big personality in my mind only. I truly am. In my mind, I rule. In my mind, no one writes better than I do. In my mind, I am the queen of the world.

Reality is a projection of your thoughts or the things you habitually think about - Stephen Richards

This is what most people are unaware of. What you think in your mind ultimately comes true. So, be the king of the world in your mind first. Project properly and then only you will be able to see it in reality.

If constructive thoughts are planted positive outcomes will be the result. Plant the seeds of failure and failure will follow - Sidney Madwed  

Our world is full of losers. They are the ever waiting souls. They want to pull you down on your knees and keep you there, forever. You will have to decide your action. Do you want to stay on your knees? Or, do you want to get up and get going, no matter what?

You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you - James Allen

Losers have a particular power in them. They are convincing. They have convinced themselves that the Lamborghini is out of reach. So, they will laugh at you when you will express your desire to drive one. They know that they are not capable enough to achieve success and they are afraid that you will someday. So, they try to demoralize you with their words. It’s only words and words are all they have. 

I also play with words. Words are my weapons. I build castle with words. I also destroy those castles with nothing but words. Yet, my words are never a means to demoralize anyone. If you are happy with your mind’s projection, I bow down and accept that. I also know that someday your thought will help you reach your destination.

The whole of science is nothing more than a refinement of everyday thinking - Albert Einstein

If there is someone, who claims to be your friend and yet keep saying to you that you are nothing but a projection of your mind. Smile and accept. Dream big. Let you imagination go wild. And say it aloud. Say that you are the next best seller. Say that you are the conqueror of this whole world. Declare to everyone that you dream of driving that Audi or the Lamborghini. Do not be shy to admit that you have the desire to become the next multi billionaire. Let them laugh at you. Listen to the sound of laughter and the tinge of mockery. Nothing motivates better than sarcasm.

You have powers you never dreamed of. You can do things you never thought you could do. There are no limitations in what you can do except the limitations of your own mind - Darwin P. Kingsley   

To build or to destroy depends on you. Walk away from the negative influences. Discard these people from your life. Keep following your heart and build world in your mind. And always remember – This World Is a Projection of You Own Mind.   

Writing Law Violation – Shock Them

It’s been a while since I got to write anything. Life, not just life, it’s my fucking professional life that got me and bam… there went everything that I loved outta window. I thought of writing something for the blog, but failed to find a good topic. Nothing seemed good enough to write about. It was an excuse and I knew it. I just didn’t want to write anything. Twice I even started writing a post. It’s a review of a book I am reading currently. But the words and sentences sounded like someone else had written them. So, I forced myself to hit the delete button.

That got me thinking. I always say that writers write. What the fuck did I do in these past two weeks? Nothing, just sat around wrote some worthless contents that would never draw any reader and cursed and cursed. That’s it. Yeah, I did some reading. But reading to me is like taking the next breath. You take my books away and you have killed me. So, reading for pleasure does not count. At least I don’t think so.

I simply did nothing. And I call myself a writer. With pride mind you.

Inside I knew that I should write. I even looked longingly at the notebook where I am writing my next novel, but the Pilot V5 seemed too heavy between my fingers. And I set it away.

This is a familiar phase to me. This happens. Too frequently to be natural. These are phases that tempt me to run away or find solace inside the pages of a fairy tale. But, life is not a fairy tale, is it guys? Life is a novel. It is hard and harsh. Harsher than my tongue sometimes lol.

So, in the end I broke the fast last night and jotted down some words in the notebook. And man, did it feel good to be back? You bet it did. I broke almost all the grammar rules and regulations that have ever been created. Thank God they don’t prosecute for grammar law violation. I would have been a goner by now, if they did.

I have written another post about getting into a writing habit. But this one is for the law breakers.

Do break some law (literary)

Be daring and break the law. Some of your friends will frown at this. Yet, breaking rules feels good. It is like breaking free of the captivation. It is like letting fresh air inside your room and breathing a lungful. Make yourself forget all the shits you have learnt all your life and write. If writing without punctuation helps you by all means do it. Look, I am not encouraging anyone to be a bad writer and this rule breaking may not get you published. But, this will surely set free your creativity. You may even find that kickass voice of yours this way.

Curse

Yeah, allow yourself to curse. Cursing gets the frustration out and you will feel fucking good after a good session. Because I am a natural, I never needed any encouragement. Those words come to me.

Read Something Unconventional

Classics are good for improving your vocab. But then again Archie comics is also good for entertainment. Why restrict your reading? Comics will teach you how to frame dialogues. Read them. Don’t be ashamed to admit that yes, you do read Archie.

Mix Genres

Recently I got an advice from a very dear friend of mine – thrillers thrill and mysteries should be all about suspense and not philosophical.  While I respect him and accept most of everything he says, here I had to defy him. Where the fuck it is written that mystery cannot have a philosophical touch? Who the hell says that a sleuth cannot have feelings? I personally think (I am not always right, but neither are the critics) every character should have feelings and their emotions should be portrayed on paper. Then again, you may think otherwise. Try mixing genres. This will be fun, I am telling you. Write a philosophical mystery or psychological romance. See how far you can continue.  

Forgive me for being what I am and expressing my truest feeling. I am not saying the above mentioned tips will make you write like John Grisham. But they may help or they may not. There is no harm in trying though.  

Surviving Reviews that Hurt

Bad writing. Really bad. Can a writing be good if it shakes a lazy writer heavily so that he wakes up and write and write and suffer from insomnia as he cannot stop writing? 

Don’t be surprised guys - my pen hasn’t created the above mentioned masterpiece. This is a review my last blog post received. Although I am yet to decipher the meaning of the review, I understood that the reader was pretty pissed with the post. Well..if you are wondering why I let you read the review, the answer is – because this is the truth of a writer’s life. Your work is always under the scrutiny. One wrong step, one error or one perception that does not suit may result into somewhat similar reviews. If you are more unfortunate than I had been, you will face worse evaluations. But, don’t let your spirit die. That will be the demise of a dream. And dreams are too precious.

Cope or Perish

Yeah, you either cope with the criticism or you give up. They say writers sit around all day long and write in safety. True we don’t step out of the proximity of the house or office most of the time. And we certainly don’t face enemies at the borders with guns in our hands. Yet, our jobs are no less dangerous than that of a soldier’s. When a bullet pierces the heart, people die. But when someone raises a finger at our creation, our souls experience a slow demise. How easily they say – bad writing. They don’t even consider the effect their words can have on a writer.

To Cope…

When I wrote the last post, I was not in right frame of mind. I work as a content writer and I was loaded with work this past week. In my haste to write a blog post, I jotted something down and posted in my blog without much assessment. I knew in my heart that the post wasn’t good enough. I didn’t share the post with anyone for that reason. What I did instead, I sent the link to some of my friends for feedback. I was looking forward to some suggestions that will help me improve the post. Well…the above feedback did not help me anyway. First I sat undecided. Then I got angry. Then I laughed at the review. I said to myself – to fuck with it.

But, I did not shrug off the matter and went on with my life. I deleted the post from my blog. Then I sat with a writer friend of mine and took the post apart. With the help of this writer, I began to see the errors I made. He pointed out exactly what went wrong and suggested what could make the post better. I rewrote parts of it once again.

Understand These…

Every review is not effective. Don’t take everything you hear about your writing to your heart. People say things when they are given the right. They have the God like glow while pointing out how bad you are. This is a natural human instinct. You need to know which review will help you grow. Listen to those reviews, even if it kills to sit through it. But, do pay attention to every word. Then apply the suggestions to your writing. The rest of the reviews…well they are not reviews at all and you can forget about them.

Everyone is not worth reviewing your writing. I made the mistake of sending out the post to someone who is not capable of pointing out what went wrong. If my writing is bad, I want to know what went wrong and why it is wrong. Don’t just tell me that I am bad in plain words. Show me why I am bad. That’s exactly what you should look for too. Find someone who will not flatter you with flowery words and tell you how good you are. This person will not attack you with anything like the review I have mentioned at the beginning of this post either. This person will gently guide you through and make you see how you can improve your writing.

Finally…

You are a writer. You are a creator. You have dedicated your life in creating stories and characters and sometimes blog posts. You have put yourself in the line so that people can read your work. Sometimes they say things that feel like a hard punch into the gut. But, take it and move forward. Learn from the harshness the world throws at you and get moving. Just go ahead.

“Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, and I don’t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done! Now, if you know what you’re worth, then go out and get what you’re worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain’t where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain’t you. You’re better than that!” - Rocky Balboa

Enrich Your Soul – Read One More Book

“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.” ― Stephen King

Image - graceandivy.wordpress

Yet another writing advice you will come across frequently – read more and write better. For once in my life I cannot agree more. Read and read and when you get tired read some more. Surrender yourself to the realm of words written by the masters and you will notice the change yourself.

If you want to tell better stories, you need to grow as a writer.

You need to read.

For me this has never been a problem. I have always been a voracious reader, I still am. I read because I just cannot survive without books. I have a personal library with hundreds of books and the number is rising. My mother sometimes looks at the growing number with concern and says – someday either you will remain in the house or your books will. Now, that’s an exaggeration. Honest.

Jokes apart, the point is not having a library of your own. Once upon a time I could not afford to buy books, I didn’t have the money. To satisfy my hunger I visited bookstores and read. I could not finish the books as it was not possible when you are roaming in a bookstore. But, I got to read few pages everyday. The more I read, the more I wanted to write.

Why reading is emphasized like this? Why every writer suggests the aspiring writers to read? Why?

As you read, you grow. You don’t grow only as a writer, you grow as a human being. Experience and perception team up to make great writers. What you read will influence your writing eventually. Slowly, you will look at the world in a different view.

As a writer, you need to inspire yourself. Nothing gets the inspiration come pouring better than reading. Ever felt the itch reading a writer? As you continue to read, you will eventually come across a writer who will make your fingers itch and heart swell in envy. Let me tell you this is one profession where envy is not forbidden. Unless you are jealous, you will not want to do better. Yet, you need to know how to use the jealousy in a constructive way.

Great tales come from great imagination and descriptive writing. Holding the readers by hand and taking them through the mazes of the world you have built takes skill. Only good fiction can teach you how to write such scenes.  

You don’t want your readers to put down the book you have so lovingly crafted and forget all about it. You want your book to remain till the day this world comes to an end. To reach that height, you need to work hard. You need to invest time for reading and writing.

To keep the motivation alive, you can try the tricks. These work for me. Let’s see if these can work for you too.  

Have a Date with Your Books

Take your book out. Find a cozy café and indulge into reading. That may cost you some money and I know writers are not always fortunate in money matters. So, find a cozy park and take your book there. Sit under a tree and lose yourself into the fictitious world. Ever read a book in rain? I have. Once I sat in a downpour with a huge umbrella and read Game of Thrones. The experience? Words cannot describe it. I discovered the joy of reading once again.

Take a Long Walk with Your Book

Don’t try to read while walking. At least not when the traffic is heavy. Take a long walk. Read the nature instead. Read the body languages of the people around you. This is also a training process. You are a writer training yourself. The next bestseller in the making. Act like one. Give your dream a chance. Don’t shy away from hard work.

Commit Yourself

Commit to reading like you are married to books. Don’t undertake too much at once. Don’t try to finish Atlas Shrugged at one go.  You will be disappointed if you fail to finish the book. Instead read one page everyday. One little step will take you a long way. One day you will realize that you have finished countless books. Start today and never stop. Have fun. That is the bottom line. Whatever you read you should enjoy. Read for pleasure first, slowly you will be reading to improve yourself.

“If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” ― Stephen King

Inspire Yourself to Write

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Time comes in the lives of the writers when nothing works. No matter how hard they try, no word, no sentence, no image form in their heads. They just sit blank, wondering will it ever be like the past again, will the words come back.

I don’t know about you, but I suffer from this syndrome frequently. I don’t have the habit of waiting for the inspiration. I know what happens when someone waits for something to happen. I waited three years for inspiration and did not write a single line. Now, I follow Jack London’s advice with all my heart and chase inspiration. Yet, time comes when nothing works. I keep writing without my heart in it. I derive no joy in creating. Have you ever felt like this? If the answer is no, you are fortunate. You can skip reading this post.

Inspiring the writer within you is important at a time like this. When wind doesn’t blow, you need to steer the boat yourself and move forward. This is the only way you can get something done.

I have been writing for a long time. So long that now I cannot recall the time I did not write. And in these long years of effort I have learnt something valuable - that inspiration does not come. It is up to you whether you give up or get going. Once I gave up and I paid dearly. I had to start all over again. Thus I don’t give up now. I try to inspire myself. It takes time to get back in the mood but it does work.

It’s true that you will not be able to inspire yourself without assistance. You will require tools to make yourself write again. For me books have been of great help. Whenever I feel my creativity is taking a leave of absence, I turn to the pages of books I love reading most. I read words created by the masters. John Grisham is one of the writers I read to motivate myself. This is the writer I have always considered as my mentor. His writing has the power to make my fingers itch and my heart composed again. Rainmaker is one of my personal favorites. You may choose to read someone else. But do read. Nothing helps writing better than reading. No matter what you read, you get better at writing.

Take a walk outside. Writing is a lonely task. Yet, you need to get out of the comfort of your home. You need to interact with people. You write about them, you need to study them. In my case, I am fortunate. My work demands that I go out and communicate with others. This makes me write better. I feel free when I return and hold my pen again. Next time when you interact with others, don’t take them as mere human beings. Instead consider them as characters of your novel and see what happens.

Do something unusual. Take a walk in the rain. Feel the droplets pouring down upon you. Drenching you. Let the blessing from heaven wash away the blockage and refresh your soul. Frequently I stand in the rain, looking up, gazing at the sky and thanking the monarch of the heaven. I thank Him for the words that I write. I thank Him for the images that will not let me sit in peace. I thank Him for the books that are being written. I thank Him for being there. Lastly, I thank Him for life. And when I return to writing, I feel like another person. Try it.

Get drunk. Lol, getting controversial. Don’t drive in the state. Allow the alcohol to sooth your senses. But hey, try not to make it a habit. Once in a while indulge into this beverage and well…you will wake up yet another person (sometimes with killer headache).

Write something different, something unconventional, something that you haven’t tried before. Why not write an erotica? Explore and see what you can come up with. Write about that date who did not call again. Take this person to a land where only dead people walk the night. Write a long letter to someone, you haven’t met. Why not write to your characters? Explain why you put them through so much misery. Praise them and tell them why they are unique.  

Work out. Kick box, stretch, run and sweat it out. You will be able to go past the blockage that is preventing you from writing. Umm…these are not laws of writing that I have pronounced. There is no law in this profession. You can invent your own law. The secret is to have fun and worry less. Banging your head against the wall will only make you bleed. Rather grow wings and try to fly away. Writing is not a task that you have to perform. Writing is salvation. Surrender yourself and take pleasure in the journey. 

Balancing Life and Writing

Life is Not Easy…

And it’s never gonna be. You will have to chase your dream today. You will have to make it today. If you sit around and wait for the things to fall in the place, you will be waiting forever.

Once I made this mistake. I was working for an engineering firm. It was hectic. Exhausting even. Each day I returned drained. Hardly, I had the energy to open a book, let alone the willingness to hold my pen and start writing. So, I chose the easy path. I started waiting. I waited for the things to fall in place. I waited for the time when I wouldn’t have to work to pay the bills. I waited for that time to appear. Months passed. And I waited. I did not open a single book. I did not write a single line. I was waiting. Waiting for the situation to get better.

Image from papersun

Everyone gets a wake up call sometimes in their lives. I was also fortunate enough to receive one. My wake up call came in the shape of high fever. I was at home, recovering. To pass time, I reached for my pen and notebook. I started writing. Only I couldn’t. I pushed myself to proceed. I even forced myself to create something. Yet, nothing came to my mind. With immense effort I constructed one sentence. But nothing followed the first line. Horror dawned on to me. I pushed some more. Nothing.

I realized that as I was waiting for the right time to appear in my life, I continued to lose the skill I built with so much effort. That I have lost the edge. That day, I gave myself a firm shake. I silently resolved that I would read and write everyday. That was in the August 2006. I have never stopped reading and writing.

You should not either. If you love to write, you will need to read and write everyday. Yes, of course you can take a break. Every writer takes a break. Maybe once a year. For me break comes in the shape of notebook writing. When I am too drained to write anything, when my characters refuse to act or talk or do anything, I pick up a topic and reach for one of my notebooks. Nothing calms me down better than an hour or two of wild writing session.

I know many of you are facing the similar dilemma. Many of you don’t get time to read or write. But, you must, if you want to improve yourself as a writer. You will have to invest sufficient amount of time for reading and writing (If you are wondering why I am insisting on reading, wait for my next post Read More and Write Better). So, how do you do it? You can think strategically and steal away time to indulge in your passion.

Carry a book…always. Instead of staring out of the window, try to read while you are travelling. I still do this. I carry a book wherever I go. This helps a lot.

Carry a notebook around. You will never catch me without a notebook (several notebooks if truth be told). I steal moments to write pieces. When I return home, I bring with me materials that help me proceed further.

Changing your writing time is another way to get something done. Get up early or go to bed late. Write in the spare time. Give up television. Give up social life. You need to be ready to sacrifice some of the things you love to improve yourself, to grow as a writer. Everything comes with a price. Your dreams as well. Are you willing to pay? Willing to sacrifice things that matter? Willing to say no to that movie you were dying to watch? Ask yourself and then make the plans. I am sure you will succeed. 

Write for Your Soul

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Being a writer is difficult. Being an unpublished writer is harder still. You will carry around your secret like a thief. Sometimes you will let it out and say with reluctant blush that yes, you are a writer, dreading the next question.

Have you ever been published? Have you? No, you are still unpublished. You are still trying to elevate yourself from the bottom layer of the pyramid and climb higher. You know the pain. You know the numbness that spread across your heart with each rejection letter. Yet, how easily they ask – have you ever been published.

And you say, ‘No. I am yet to make it to the publication.’ What follows forth every writer knows. A glance of suspicion sometimes. Glance of pity. Most of the times glance of mockery. It is the main reason we conceal the fact that we return home to write, to create, to tell stories.

I am not venting my frustration here. It is no way a platform to bleed. God knows we bleed everyday. God knows we cry with each rejection letter, even though we shrug it off in public. Time comes when we stand at the verge of giving up. We question everything, even our existence. Each time we stand facing a mirror, our reflection asks – why? We are unable to answer. Why we write? Why we put up with the humiliation? Why?

May be because that’s what we are. May be because we are born that way. May be because we are both blessed and cursed. May be.

I can’t speak for you. For I don’t know you. I can only speak for myself. I can only tell you why I write. Why I put up with the humiliation. Why…

Blankness bothers me. Every time I look at a paper, I see immense potentiality. I feel like holding a pen and scratching the surface. I feel like creating a world peopled with illustrated characters. My characters.

Numerous times I have reached the point from which no path leads ahead. I have stopped many times thinking now what. I panicked even. Yet, I couldn’t stop. How can I quit being me? I am a writer and I was born that way. For good or for bad, this is my life. Getting published is secondary. It comes after being a writer. But, the focal point is writing.

It does not matter who asks what. It does not matter who thinks what. It does not matter how many rejection letters come your way. You are a writer and your job is to continue and create. People may try to mislead you. They may try to force you to quit. And you have the option. You can quit. You can quit because they think you are not good enough. You can quit because you are not being able to get published. You can quit because some no-good teacher thinks you should.

But will you be at peace? Can your soul rest with the knowledge that you have given up? Can you live without creating? Can you? If yes, you are lucky. You are luckier than I am. For, I cannot. God knows I have tried. God knows I have given up too many times. But, I couldn’t stay away for longer than one day. I came back after sulking and throwing fit of temper around. And I am glad that I did. I don’t think there is anything else to say. I am not even sure that I have said anything worth reading.

Therefore, I will draw the conclusion with a verse – my personal anthem. These two lines get me going when the way is dark and the sky is full of cloud with no stars to guide me ahead. I mutter these two lines and advance forward. For I know my destination is there somewhere, concealed in the darkness. Soon, sun will rise and lead me towards it. Till then I can only crawl and hope.

Karmanye Vadhikaraste, Ma phaleshou kada chana

It means – perform your duty without expecting result. 

Out in the Open

Note - This is a small part of another chapter of my whodunit mystery novel Out in the Open - A Rudransh Ray mystery. Hope you will like it.


Stench of death touched Lisa Brown. She halted by the window and stared out. For a moment she could see nothing. Or could she? Something moved in the garden. Or, was it someone? She leaned forward to take a better look. Her naked eyes could detect nothing. Everything appeared to be perfectly normal. She felt like a fool for being afraid. Yet, deep inside her heart, the fear remained. To be sure, she took another look at the garden.

Why the surrounding suddenly felt so frightening? She wondered. Thick cloud passed over and the moon vanished behind the curtain. In the utter gloom the garden looked like a graveyard. Or so she thought. The tall and thin trees loomed like lanky monsters. Heat rose and she felt the satin night gown clinging against her skin.

With a shrug she pushed the gown off her shoulders. Cool breeze touched her skin and a shiver passed through her body. She was cold all of a sudden.

True the night was chilly. True the wind cut through the flesh. But, inside the mansion it was warm enough to be comfortable, sometimes hot even. Then why? She wondered again. Her hands lovingly touched her breasts. She rubbed her open palms over the supple globes. Beneath the skin of her hands the nipples erected. She shivered, this time not from cold. She tilted her head and closed her eyes. 

Show Don’t Tell – Well Sometime You Should

Before reading this post, please note that I don’t consider myself a master of the craft. I don’t even consider that I know more than anyone else in this profession. I am not in any way contradicting anyone. This is just an expression of my personal understanding. I am learning and this blog is created to share the experience of the process.

This is yet another advice I have come across so many times – show don’t tell, make your readers feel, take them to the scene, etc, etc. A while back I was reading an interview of Lee Child. According to this bestselling thriller writer – we are telling stories, not showing it. I agree. We are storytellers. We tell tales in our own ways.

Of course, I am not advising anyone to say – Tina was angry and leave it there. When you do that you say nothing about the character. You just mention that a female character is angry. But, who is Tina? How old is she? What is her background? How angry is she? These are the questions that you are not answering. But that doesn’t really mean you should show the readers the exact shade of Tine’s hair color or the length of her skirt (although that might appeal to the male readers).

The point is you are a novelist. You are writing fiction. You are not a movie maker. Leave showing part to James Cameron. As a writer your job is to tell a story.

I have a habit of reading about writing. When I am tired of my own writing or don’t feel like reading another writer’s work, I read about the craft with the hope that I will be able to improve a bit. I have seen that teachers and writers have different opinion about this. Some are ardent supporters of showing and some want to break the rules and create one of their own. What should you do? As a beginner, even as a pro, it might be difficult to decide which approach is better suited for your story.

So, many times, I have stopped my pen (yes, I write my first draft with pen and paper) and pondered how to show this scene. I have tried to show everything in a story. But in the end it sounded like a manual. It took me a long time to realize writing is a fusion of both showing and telling. Too much of either one can make your story a dull read. So, what should you do?

I rather explain what I do as you should choose your own style and manner of writing. I try to understand the genre I am working on. Since I am a mystery writer, my job is easy. I deal with the human minds. So, I can get away with telling sometimes. How else do you portray someone’s thought? Rudransh Ray spends a good deal of time thinking and I need to tell the readers what he is thinking about. Here I have little chance of showing the thoughts.

But when it comes to action scenes, I do show the smell of air and the long stretched shadows. These are good ingredients of mystery writing.

Even if your genre is not mystery, you will have plenty of chances to tell your story. Readers want to know about the characters and to introduce your characters you need to tell them about the mind frame, the thought process. How a character feels is important (and I guess it is the most important part of a story). Therefore, don’t be afraid of telling your story. Rules are there. But you have the liberty of breaking those rules and do what feels right for your story. You are a writer. You are a creator. Don’t restrict yourself or your creativity. Dare to be different.  

Write What You Know or Should You...

I began writing with utter reluctance. I knew that I was stepping into another territory. Although the turf is fascinating, even soul enriching, it frightened me. So, like every amateur, I sought help. I browsed Internet and read blogs of other writers (and I never stopped). I dug into books on writing. Surprisingly, every website or how to book I checked had one common advice – write what you know.

I did, I wrote what I knew and eventually I realized – I was producing trash. This got me thinking should you really write what you know? True John Grisham writes legal thrillers because he knows law. But, did J.K Rowling practice black magic? Did Raymond Chandler murdered people? Did John Sandford hack computers? No, none of them experienced what they wrote about. Even John Grisham did not work for the mafias.

So, what do we get here? Writing what you know will make the realm of fiction boring. This is fiction and you are crafting a story. You are imagining incidents that did not happen in the reality. You are illustrating characters that never existed. You are not writing what you know. You are creating.

Ann Rule writes what she knows. Of course, she does. She is a true crime story writer. But, are you? Really? If you want to write what you know, you should get into writing non-fiction. Fiction writing is exploring turfs unknown. You begin from a blank page and slowly create a world that will cease to exist without your effort. As a writer, I don’t think you should write what you know. Why restrict your creativity? Rather try to know what you want to write about.

Yes, this is the only way of writing truly compelling stories. If you want to write fantasy, research about magic. Learn how people cast spells. And you never know what you may create. Have the courage to step out of the comfort zone. Learn about the world unfamiliar to you. Enrich yourself and explore. Without the desire to know more, you cannot grow as a writer.

Since the childhood I have devoured mystery novels. Even in my adulthood I mostly read mysteries. Yet, when I picked up my pen, I feared creating a mystery story. I thought what do I know about crimes and criminals. I knew nothing about criminology either. So, I wrote what I knew. From my educational background I knew history and I wrote a historical novel. It sucked. While writing the story I knew my heart wasn’t in it. I could not visualize the world I created. But, I wrote what I knew and I was trying to be happy.

Reality hit me when the rejection letters began coming my way. I sat bemused, not being able to decode the mystery of being rejected. I was writing what I knew, then what went wrong? It took a while to realize that I was cheating myself. Historic fiction is not my genre.

That day, I changed my genre and created Rudransh Ray a criminologist who fights crime and Out in the Open just happened. When I started writing this novel, I did not even know that I will be able to finish it, that I will be able to write The End of this story. I stumbled too many times, threw away too many pages, read too many books and eventually I did finish my first mystery novel. The journey was a glorious one. What happens to this book is not the primary factor, at least not to me. I have succeeded writing a genre I know nothing about and that is the point here.

Next time you want to write that thriller, do write it. If you know about the topic, good, if you don’t know anything about it, even the better. You will have the opportunity to study and learn. So, go for it and enjoy the journey. 

Out in the Open - A Rudransh Ray Mystery

Note - This is the first chapter of my novel Out in the Open - A Rudransh Ray Mystery

The shadow

The shadow waited. Two sharp eyes followed everything. Tall trees, long stretched gloom and a Victorian mansion against the expansion of sky. It could be a setting from a gothic movie. But, it was a reality.

Light from one of the rooms on the first floor’s window illuminated a part of the garden. In this glow, Shadow could make out forms of leaves, hedges and flowers. Smell of rose and wet soil hung in the air. Cloud gathered and for a moment everything vanished but the mansion and the white light.

Shadow felt a reassuring heaviness against the chest. Metal and Wood had been used to carve this knife. Its blade could split an oak tree wide open.

Just one slash and it will all be over. The shadow inhaled. A cakewalk, it’s gonna be. Swift and fast. A smile flashed. But it vanished a heart beat later. Through the cracks of leaves Shadow watched and calculated.

With one movement of eyes, Shadow measured the challenge ahead. The mansion stood silent. Against the star clothed backdrop, it created a contrast with all its gloom.  A slender figure came to view in the first floor’s window. She had a crimson night gown wrapped around her body. Night wind played with her loose hair. She moved away from the view. 

Pacing. 

Restless. 

The Divine Beauty

v   

‘I will come to this earth as your daughter,’ declared the Goddess of divine beauty and love. She floated in the air with joy and exhilaration.

King Talish stared at the delicate face. He could not believe in his ears. Words failed to form in his mind. Despite the joy in his heart, he could not answer the Goddess.

The Goddess, however, did not have any such compulsion. She gloated and floated in air. ‘This world needs love and peace. I will have to incarnate in human form to thaw the violence. And you king Talish, you get the honor of parenting me.’

Joy flooded free into Talish’s heart.  His mouth broke into a smile. But, the delight was short lived as the voice of the royal physician came echoing back to him. ‘Your wife’s womb cannot carry human seed. If you want a child, you will have to marry again.’

Talish looked up at the Goddess in dismay. His heart felt barren as a desert. Blinking the tears, he said, ‘But, the royal physician had said…’

Before he could finish the sentence, the Goddess threw her head behind and laughed. Young leaves of the trees, danced along with the sound. She fixed her eyes on the mortal standing before her.

‘I am the creator of this world. I want you to parent my human incarnation.’ Her blue eyes dances with joy. ‘And, you doubt my words?’

Talish bowed before the goddess, despite the casual and affectionate tone of the voice. He shook his head with regret. ‘Please forgive me my dear goddess. I did not doubt you. I dare not doubt you. I was just repeating what the royal physician had said.’

‘Look at me, my child.’ Talish obeyed the order. ‘Never question the creator. Nothing happens without the wish of the creator. Nine months from now and I will incarnate as your daughter. Name me Ragini.’

Tallish jolted up from sleep. At his side queen Adhrita slept. His ears still buzzed from the words spoken by the goddess. Images of the dream were still too vivid in his mind. He looked around the royal bedroom to assure himself that the goddess had been a fragment of his wishful dream. Perspiration rolled down his back. He tried to control his shallow breathing lest the queen woke up from the sleep.

He did not want to share this dream with anyone. He did not want to raise her hope. They had spent ten long years together waiting for a child. The throne demanded an heir. But, he was unable to produce one. The ministers pressurized him to get married again which he ignored. Not for the sake of love. But, he could not find another woman as beautiful as Adhrita. Ugliness was forbidden in his kingdom.

v   

Tallish paced before the labor room. He could hear Adhrita’s cries of pain. He could not wait to hold his daughter in his arms. The promise of the goddess came true. Adhrita got pregnant and was about to give birth to a baby. Dawn was about to break free. Any moment now and the first ray of sun would explode. He threw an irritated glance at the labor room. How long would it take? Had it not been for the royal priest, he would have invaded the room and inquired about the delay.

Couple of hearts occurred and the tranquility shattered. Shrill cry of an infant roared into the air. Talish halted in his track. Joy, relief and pride all crowded into his heart and threatened to burst it open. He had become a father. After waiting what it seemed like an eternity, he would be able to look down at his own child.

A smiling maid came rushing towards him. His gaze fell upon the bundle into her arms. His daughter. The heir to his throne. He could not believe it. Dream comes true sometimes.

The young maid handed him the bundle and he looked down at the face of the baby. A round, chubby face with blue eyes and a small button nose stared up at him. She blinked twice as if she could see her father. Dark curly hair covered her tiny head. Talish bent down and kissed the forehead of the infant.

‘The Goddess,’ he breathed.

That moment, another shrill cry rose and once again shattered the peace which was about to settle. Talish looked up, startled. What was that? He wondered. The Goddess did not say anything about a twine.

He waited with his daughter into his arms for another maid to appear with another bundle of joy. Clock ticked. The king stared at the door with eager anticipation. But no one came. Tranquility once again spread its warm wings over the fortress. Golden sun ray peered through the branches of the trees. Birds started singing with joy, welcoming another morning.

‘Why are they taking so long?’ Talish asked. He handed over the baby to the waiting arms of the young woman and made his way towards the labor room. Despite the protest of the royal priest, he walked into the dimly lit room.

Smell of rose water greeted his nostrils. He heard the sound of agonizing sobs. Turning his gaze to the bed, he saw his queen. She sat with her knees drawn up. Her head rested on the top of her legs.  Her shoulders trembled. At her feet lay playing a tiny baby.

Tallish pounced upon the bed. He froze at the sight of the baby lying there. Gaping with horror, he turned eyes away. The baby had a square face. Her eyes were dark and narrow. She turned her twisted mouth and smiled up at the king.

Pale faces loitered everywhere in the room. The royal priest followed the king inside and now stood at the threshold, wide eyes, mouth hanging open.

‘Demon,’ he muttered.

‘Guards,’ Talish yelled as he came out of the terrifying trance. Couple of young men rushed inside at the call. ‘Remove this…this child from my sight. Take her to the forest and…….’ He allowed the word hang in the air. But, the guards understood. They seized the baby with rough hands and disappeared before anyone could utter a word.

v   

Sixteen years later

‘My lord, we found another dead body this morning,’ the wary faced guard told the king.

‘Male?’ Talish asked.

‘Yes my lord, same bloodless young male body.’

Tallish waved his hand in dismissal. He leaned his head against the high throne, tired. Closing his eyes, he tried to escape from the grime situation for a moment. Sixth dead body in one week, he sighed. Who could be behind this serious of cruel murder?

‘My lord.’ the royal priest bowed before the king.

‘Yes,’ Talish said in a heavy voice. He was not in the mood to endure the lecture of the priest. Yet, as the king, he would have to sit through it.

‘My lord, it is the work of a demon.’

‘Demon?’

‘Who else will drink human blood my lord?’

‘What do you suggest me to do?’ Talish rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes.

‘You search for the culprit my lord. Do not trust anyone.’

That night, Talish saddled his black stallion and disappeared into the darkness. He would keep his kingdom safe. With careful deliberation, he prowled through the lonely streets. Unaffected by the chill of the winter wind, he kept going.

After inspecting the locality, he headed towards the forest. Something caught his eyes. A white horse was tied to a tree at the border of the forest. Someone went inside. Talish descended his horse and entered the forest by foot. He did not have to search for long. Few steps later, he reached a wide glade.

A fire blazed in the middle. Beneath one of the trees lay a young man. He appeared to be unconscious. A human being attired in a golden robe leaned over the young man and drank his blood.

Talish drew his sword and pounced over. He gave a sharp yell and the person in golden robe stilled. Without delaying another moment, he thrust the sharp metal into the back of the murderer.

A gasp of pain stirred the air as the sword penetrated the lungs. the blood drinker slumped over the unconscious man. Talish wanted to see the face of the murderer. He leaned forward and turned the person’s face.

‘No,’ he gasped at the sight of the face. ‘No, no, no.’ The tormented shriek echoed into the silent forest. He staggered back, lost his balance and dropped over the ground. To block the sight before him, he buried his face into the grass. He could not look at the still feature of his beloved daughter.

‘You said you are incarnating as my daughter,’ Talish accused the Goddess. He has performed a rite and summoned the Goddess.

‘So I did,’ she said. ‘Came as your daughter.’

‘You were performing the demonic act?’ Talish yelled. ‘You were drinking the blood of young men.’

The Goddess laughed at the accusation. ‘You really believe I can do that?’

‘I witnessed it with my own two eyes.’

‘Dear king, recall how many daughters you had?’ Goddess smiled.

‘One……oh.’ Talish’s jaw dropped as the realization dawned in.

‘Yes, you have denied me and accepted the demon. You could not see the beauty my human incarnation had. It was the beauty of heart.’

Talish froze. He stared at the Goddess for a long time. ‘How can I amend the mistake?’

‘Sin,’ the Goddess said.

Talish nodded.

‘Bring her back.’

‘Where do I search?’

‘Search the same forest where you have ordered to abandon her.’

Talish did not wait a moment longer. He saddled his stallion and went into the forest. It was the last time anyone saw the king. The legend says that he still stalks the forest, searching for his daughter.