When I finished writing my first draft, I felt this sense of achievement, like my dream was finally within reach. After that last full-stop had been put, I sat back, admiring my courage, my idea and my writing. I was so happy and so full of that happiness that I decided to treat myself and announce to everyone that I had at least put the story down.
I was late to the Harry Potter bandwagon. I started reading from the fourth book and I was enchanted and thrilled and *please add more adjectives as I take a pause to appreciate the beauty that was The Goblet of Fire* I couldn’t put that book down and I remember I was at the whole Barty Crouch Jr. reveal when guests came over. I had to keep disappearing from time to time because I. Simply. Had. To. Know. how it would end before school the next day.
About Runjhun’s EBook: This book is a Sufi celebration — a celebration of love, humanity and values that seem to be losing their sheen.Simple, relatable and everyday life lessons are woven around equally simple and easy to use Urdu words that can easily become a part of the reader’s day to day lingo. And since Urdu is a language of the poets and a home for some of the finest poetry/couplets (ghazal, nazm, shayari and so on), these pieces are riddled with my most favorite pieces of Urdu poetry or shayaris, many of which formed the background score of my childhood that echoed with my mother’s favorite Jagjit Singh’s ghazals.
It is not everyday that you get an opportunity to showcase your writing on a platform that is working hard to give you the reach that all writers secretly desire. So thank you Blogchatter for that and may the force be with you as you continue waving that magic wand.
Since thinking and overthinking is a side product of being a writer, I have been reflecting what this experience has taught me (and since I love bullet points, I am going to present my scattered thoughts into a comprehensible list):
- I have definitely become less afraid to publish that post on my blog. Now my writing is ‘out there’ and even though I don’t have a huge audience (yet), it is still there for posterity and that does not scare me.
- This exercise has given me a teeny-tiny taste of what it means to be an ‘Author’ and that has shattered my proverbial rose glasses. I still have them mind you, but the rosiness is tinted with a healthy dose of pessimism and a respect for the craft.
- I am slowly coming to realize I can be a writer.
- I now know that I have no idea what my ‘unique voice’ is. I don’t know if I bring heart, soul, toes, feet, muscles, etc. into my writing. I don’t know if my writing ‘connects with the audience in unique and moving ways.’
- I hate marketing. Always have. Always will.
My entry into the Blogchatter eBook Carnival is simply called ‘Mayank.’ It is the story of a man who is going through a mid-life crisis. Read to find out how he battles his inner demons, as he tries to understand why the sea makes him feel empty.
My eBook can be downloaded for FREE here: Mayank – Suchita Agarwal
About Geethica’s Ebook: The whole book will be filled with dense fall of motivation. Come along and understand the different emotions and flavors of relationships in life.
Good news good news good news!
I am the pride owner of a brand new, fresh off the internet press Ebook! My very own…my own…my…precious.
It is a short story – don’t let the page count fool you; I was feeling extra so I reduced the page size – about rediscovering who you are and what it means to be happy. All this around the ever present sea.
To download for FREE click: Mayank – Suchita Agarwal
If my enthusiasm has moved you into downloading and further into actually reading, I’d love to know your thoughts and feedback.
As children who paint their parents to be bigger monsters than they are, my friends spent their teenage years not confiding in them all the crushes and supposed boyfriends that they had. They didn’t want to confide for fear of drama, anger, revocation of freedom, etc. Don’t judge them yet, they had their reasons at the time.
Since the middle and the end of the A to Z Challenge, I have been seriously contemplating the question – why do I write? I know how I started writing. Heck I even wrote a post about my journey as a writer Lekhak ki yatra but why did I choose this profession? Why out of all the dreams my 18 year old self had, this is the one dream I am earnestly pursuing?
Do you believe in synchronicity?
Reference to Tangent: I knew what I wanted to do with the last post of the challenge but I didn’t know what to call it. So I opened a dictionary and started going through words with Z. I couldn’t find anything I liked and then randomly the word ‘zuski’ came into my head. I Googled it and this is what it said:
A balmy Bombay evening, two hot cups of tea, and Tiny and Huge are sitting in their pet places, at right angles to each other. He sits quietly, as Tiny chatters away, trying to coax him into saying something. Finally she asks wistfully, “Is there anything you regret?”
Huge rubs his chin thoughtfully. Tiny is almost convinced she won’t get a response. Then he casually says, looking at her, “I have yet to make a decision I regret.”
Huge goes back to his tea with a twinkle in his eye as Tiny dissolves into a puddle of mush.
Tiny is talking about her courtship with Huge to her two daughters. Every time she starts a sentence with ‘do you remember,’ Huge replies sheepishly with ‘I don’t remember that.’ This goes on for some time when Little One asks, “What do you remember dad?”
“All I remember is your mom wearing a blue saree. Not dark blue…it was a soft blue, like the sky, with silver lines. She was wearing a watch and silver bangles.”
Little One and Big One turn to look at Tiny who nods with a smile.
“Well at least he remembers something!”
Big One has just turned eighteen and there are suddenly talks of boyfriends and dating and romance, which makes Huge uncomfortable. She may be eighteen but for him, she is still his baby.
Once Tiny has given her discourse on love and romance to her daughter, Huge decides to contribute his two-bits on the subject.
He tells his daughter with all sincerity, “Wait for the ghanti.”
“When you hear bells ringing that’s how you’ll know he’s the one.”
She looks at Huge curiously and asks, “Did you hear the ghanti?”
“Of course. Why do you think I only remember the saree and nothing else?”
In 2011, I found myself jobless and directionless after completing my graduation. I was so vella (useless) I even wrote a poem on my joblessness and directionless-ness. My mother, ever my saviour, at the time was teaching in a school and they desperately needed someone to teach the ninth grade C++. I was apparently the perfect candidate since I had not only learnt C++ in school; in a moment of utter lunacy I had also enrolled myself to this ‘training and developing’ institute’s industry program to earn a diploma in software engineering.