This would be the last time I'll post a scene from my manuscript on the blog. I still haven't managed to find the time to write a decent post. Next post will be a regular one, I promise.
"In the past two years I had got six of them but each time I had somehow managed to convince Ma that I wasn’t cut out for the job it offered. She had sulked but I succeeded in holding on to my current job inventing various excuses. Though not hair that can be combed I was blessed with a lively imagination and was able to think of some pretty good excuses. But as the envelopes started coming regularly once every few months, Ma’s sulks and threats became equally regular and bigger. Her one constant refrain was that I should settle down in a decent job and get married so she would have grandchildren to play with. Here I was, twenty five years old but still a kid in many ways and Ma was thinking of my kids.
She came out of the kitchen and sat at the table to watch me eat. She was about sixty, my frail mother, hair that had turned white overnight after dad’s sudden death. She was a shadow of her former self. When dad was alive she was beautiful and lively. Now she looked thin, haggard and tired. She looked like a patient. In fact she was a patient with imaginary illnesses. She fell sick frequently but wouldn’t go see a doctor. She told me quite often that if it weren’t for me she would have killed herself the moment dad had breathed his last. Whenever she said it I always felt very sad. The way she looked at me with those mournful eyes I expected her to say it now again.
‘Neel,’ she began in a soft voice. She called me by that silly name when she wanted me to do something I was absolutely not willing to do.
‘What?’ I asked, looking up at her sharply. I was irritated that she had served me more than I could eat. I had once again got the only wobbly plate in the kitchen. I was getting late for office and it also looked like it would rain any moment.
‘Nothing,’ she mumbled quietly and lowered her head. She wiped her eyes with the corner of her sari. I felt sorry for her. I was the only one she had in the world and I was being stubborn. But she was no less rigid herself.
‘What is it, ma?’ I asked again, this time in a softer voice.
‘Didn’t your father too have that kind of a job? Wasn’t he happy with it?’ she asked, nodding her head in an agitated manner.
‘Was he?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows. Dad had died suddenly more than ten years ago when I was preparing for my medical entrance test. I lost my father when I needed him the most. This became a trend in my life. People would disappear from my life when I felt I needed them badly. Dad was an engineer, a hardworking man but he was too sensitive and straightforward. He was unhappy with his job at the Secretariat. It showed on his face when he came home from his office every day. I also heard him tell Ma every day that he hated the inefficiency, the laziness, the petty politicking and the corruption. I guess it was something like that that killed him, not the hypertension everyone thought was the reason for his untimely death.
Ma looked at me but I was silent, lost in the thoughts of my wonderful father who loved me more than anyone else in the world. He had a lot of pet names for me and never refused me anything. I had asked him once if I could become a truck driver and he had said I could, an indulgent smile on his face.
‘You are so stubborn,’ she said, ‘just like him.’ She looked up at dad’s black and white photograph on the wall.
When dad was alive she would always say, ‘Why aren’t you like your father? See how organized he is, see how he goes out to meet his friends whereas you sit at home reading those useless film magazines all day.’ But soon after his death her refrain changed. She said I was just like my dad every time I refused something or was being ornery.
But of course, Ma was right. I was like dad in many ways. I even looked like him except for the hair. I was tall, thin and plain looking. She said I talked like him, walked like him, and even sneezed like him, loud and continuously. I also inherited his love for books, his depression, his sinusitis and maybe, his sense of humor. But I wasn’t clever like him or so gregarious. I was dumb which maybe one reason why I had so few friends. Just two, in fact, Mani and Venu.
Mani was now in the United States doing an advanced journalism course and Venu, my dumb friend, was working as an Agricultural Officer in the Government. It was the same job I was trying to avoid doing.
‘I’ll look at it later. I have to go back to the agency now,’ I told mom and held out the envelope. But she did not take it. She gave me an accusing stare as I threw it back on the dining table. Mom had the kind of look mothers in movies give to grown up sons who aren’t obeying their dictum to either get married or get a decent job.
‘This is the last time I am going to repeat it. I’ll never do that job.’ I said, and stepped out of the house.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, work for the Government. I wish I had paid the postman the money he had asked for handing over the envelopes to me personally. But I did not want to bribe the jerk. He made it appear as if he was doing me a favor by giving me the envelopes at the post office itself. Whereas I thought I was doing him a favor avoiding him the long trudge to our house to deliver the letter. He wanted two hundred rupees, the oily creep. Of course, I did not pay him. I wouldn’t do any such thing.
‘Wait until it stops raining, you will catch a cold,’ Ma called out after me as I rode out in the drizzle. I turned back to see her standing in the doorway, the envelope in her hand, looking forlorn."
Showing posts with label MY WRITERLY SIDE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MY WRITERLY SIDE. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Scene: 2
I am travelling again and will be travelling for another week. I haven't found time to sit and write a decent post so I am posting the second scene from my book. I had posted the first scene sometime in January.
"‘Why haven’t you opened it yet?’ Ma asked, coming out of the kitchen holding a vessel. She scooped rice from it into my plate.
When I did not answer she nudged the envelope closer towards me. I did not even want to touch it. I did not want to have anything to do with it I wanted to tell her. When I pushed it away she sighed and emptied the vessel of rice into my plate. The rice formed a mound that appeared like a small steaming white mountain just inches away from the tip.of my nose.
‘Do you know,’ Ma said, not meeting my eye, ‘I won’t die until you get a decent job and marry a sweet girl?’ She poured the entire fish curry from the vessel she had cooked it in into my plate. That was her way of telling me that she would go hungry. Ma did such things when she sulked.
‘Really?’ I said, trying to be sarcastic. ‘I didn’t know that,’ I said and pushed the envelope away again, out of my sight. Ma moved it back to its old position, right under the rim of the plate.
‘I am just twenty five years old while you are not even sixty,’ I said, ‘you still have a long life ahead. I don’t have any plans either of a decent job, or of marrying a sweet girl,’ I retorted, ‘so don’t worry about dying.’
‘Why can’t you be smart like everyone and grab the opportunity that’s fallen in your lap?’ Ma asked, picking up the envelope and waving it at me. ‘For God’s sake, it is a safe and secure job!’ She slapped it back on the table.
‘How many times have I told you that I can never dream of a more exciting and satisfying job than the one I am doing now?’ I asked, glaring at her and trying not to get irritated.
‘I don’t understand why you insist on doing that lousy job. You’re there in the office from nine in the morning until late in the night. For all that effort you don’t even get three thousand rupees,’ she said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The storm had begun. Now she would go on every minute of her waking day and also in the night, about how ungrateful I was, about how dumb I was not to accept the secure job, and about how I was wasting my time daydreaming and so on.
I did not know how to make her understand that with my present job as a copywriter in an advertising agency I was on my way to realize my dream. I wanted to get into the movies as a scriptwriter and graduate towards directing if I was lucky. Copywriting was hard work but it was one easy route to scriptwriting I thought. It also had a touch of glamour to it that the other job would never give me. But how do I explain all that to my innocent Ma?
I looked again at the envelope on the table after she disappeared into the kitchen. It wasn’t even a proper envelope. It was one crudely fashioned out of brown paper of a rough variety. I could see the dark stains where the flap on the back was sealed with homemade gum. There were half a dozen of those kinds of stamps which no one would even look at, much less collect them. They had also got my name wrong. It was spelt as ‘Suneel Kumar’ instead of ‘Sunil Kumar.’ I was tempted to tear up the stupid thing into a million pieces. "
"‘Why haven’t you opened it yet?’ Ma asked, coming out of the kitchen holding a vessel. She scooped rice from it into my plate.
When I did not answer she nudged the envelope closer towards me. I did not even want to touch it. I did not want to have anything to do with it I wanted to tell her. When I pushed it away she sighed and emptied the vessel of rice into my plate. The rice formed a mound that appeared like a small steaming white mountain just inches away from the tip.of my nose.
‘Do you know,’ Ma said, not meeting my eye, ‘I won’t die until you get a decent job and marry a sweet girl?’ She poured the entire fish curry from the vessel she had cooked it in into my plate. That was her way of telling me that she would go hungry. Ma did such things when she sulked.
‘Really?’ I said, trying to be sarcastic. ‘I didn’t know that,’ I said and pushed the envelope away again, out of my sight. Ma moved it back to its old position, right under the rim of the plate.
‘I am just twenty five years old while you are not even sixty,’ I said, ‘you still have a long life ahead. I don’t have any plans either of a decent job, or of marrying a sweet girl,’ I retorted, ‘so don’t worry about dying.’
‘Why can’t you be smart like everyone and grab the opportunity that’s fallen in your lap?’ Ma asked, picking up the envelope and waving it at me. ‘For God’s sake, it is a safe and secure job!’ She slapped it back on the table.
‘How many times have I told you that I can never dream of a more exciting and satisfying job than the one I am doing now?’ I asked, glaring at her and trying not to get irritated.
‘I don’t understand why you insist on doing that lousy job. You’re there in the office from nine in the morning until late in the night. For all that effort you don’t even get three thousand rupees,’ she said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The storm had begun. Now she would go on every minute of her waking day and also in the night, about how ungrateful I was, about how dumb I was not to accept the secure job, and about how I was wasting my time daydreaming and so on.
I did not know how to make her understand that with my present job as a copywriter in an advertising agency I was on my way to realize my dream. I wanted to get into the movies as a scriptwriter and graduate towards directing if I was lucky. Copywriting was hard work but it was one easy route to scriptwriting I thought. It also had a touch of glamour to it that the other job would never give me. But how do I explain all that to my innocent Ma?
I looked again at the envelope on the table after she disappeared into the kitchen. It wasn’t even a proper envelope. It was one crudely fashioned out of brown paper of a rough variety. I could see the dark stains where the flap on the back was sealed with homemade gum. There were half a dozen of those kinds of stamps which no one would even look at, much less collect them. They had also got my name wrong. It was spelt as ‘Suneel Kumar’ instead of ‘Sunil Kumar.’ I was tempted to tear up the stupid thing into a million pieces. "
Friday, April 09, 2010
At a Writing Workshop
At a Writing Workshop
Those who want to write or want to be known as writers are usually dogged by a minimum of two questions- What to write? How to write? Most of them know the answer to the former question. They want to write novels, short stories or magazine articles. But is the latter question that stumps them because they cannot find ready made answers for it. So they begin searching for the answer. Their search leads them on a quest for either something or someone to tell them how to write. The easiest way, they’ll discover eventually, to find the answer is to read books on writing.
In my personal experience, reading books on writing is one of the best ways to learn how to write. But it all depends on finding the right books. One can spend years, like I did, wading through scores of books before finding the right books that will tell you exactly what you need to know. But once you find the right books you are on your way to learning to write or become a better writer. Each book has only a few things to teach so it will take a long time to learn all the basics of writing. But there is a short cut, if you can call it one. An experienced writer sometimes shortens the process of learning by imparting a few important lessons of writing. Some of them give an insight into the writing process that is invaluable. One good way of meeting writers is attending book readings and launches where the writer inevitably talks about how she or he came to write the book and so on. Another good way of learning from experienced writers is at writing workshops.
After reading several books on writing, doing a correspondence course in creative writing, attending scores of book readings and launches the only thing left for me to do was to attend a writing workshop. Until recently I had dreamt of doing a couple of week-long writing workshops at the Summer Writing School at Iowa University. But now I feel it is rather too late for me to do a writing workshop. Even if I want to, I cannot because it is prohibitively expensive. My only wish was that someone would organize a writing workshop somewhere in the country if not in Hyderabad.
Last week, surprisingly, I read about a creative writing workshop being held in Hyderabad. After a lot of hesitation I finally registered along with Uma. So last Sunday I happened to be a participant at the one-day writing workshop on creative writing organized by Livemore. One reason I decided to go was that the popular blogger and author of ‘Chai Chai,’ Biswanath Ghosh would be one of the two presenters at the workshop. The other presenter was Raksha Bharadia.
The venue of the workshop was at the Fortune Select Manohar at Begumpet. I reached there along with Uma on his Bullet after a chai somewhere on the way. There were about twenty participants in the hall seated at the round tables arranged. After registering we were given a rose, I wonder why. Soon the session began with the introduction of the participants. This was one of the disappointing things I wish could have been done in a better way. None of the participants got to tell their backgrounds, their writing dreams and goals, plans and achievements and also what they expected from the workshop. The two presenters were introduced and the actual workshop began with one of them taking the mike.
Raksha Bharadia was the first presenter at the workshop. I had not realized that the curly haired lady with attractive eyes and dressed smartly in a skirt and shirt was Raksha Bharadia. Her presentation was good with her effort showing in it. She was also eager to tell us everything she knew about writing. Her session included some exercises designed to loosen up our creativity. We had to write ten words that come to mind while thinking of a memory or a situation. One exercise about imagining being a three year old kid had a few of the participants in tears. It must have brought up some unpleasant memories for them. She also told the participants about sending their stories for two ‘Chicken Soup for the Indian …’ series in the making. There was more later.
Next was BG or Biswanath Ghosh, looking fit and dapper in dark clothes and trendy shoes. He spoke for a short while before we broke for lunch. I had taken along my Mont Blanc Meisterstuck hoping it would catch his attention because he too was a fountain pen freak. It did. He asked me if it was a roller ball or a fountain pen. Later he signed with the same pen on my copy of his book ‘Chai Chai’ that I had brought along. When I told him that I had just finished revising my first book he advised me to send it right away to the publishers. Getting BG’s signature on the book was one of the two reasons why I felt the workshop was worthwhile. The second reason came next, during BG’s post lunch session.
BG emphasized, in his power point presentation, five things a writer should not forget- Perseverance, Observation, Wrestle (with laziness), be Engaging, and Rewrite, which form the P-O-W-E-R of Writing. Earlier he had said that the first paragraph is usually a reliable indicator of the rest of the manuscript. As part of an exercise, BG asked the participants to imagine ourselves to be a character in a fiction work and write 300-500 words on our thoughts before coming to the workshop. I managed to scribble a couple of hundred of words. We all had to read out the exercise one by one and BG made a few crisp but insightful observations on our writing. Most of the participants had written powerful prose which impressed BG. After I read out my exercise he said the honesty showed in my writing. I felt very happy about it. Later I had more reason to feel doubly happy.
While the others were reading out their exercises I had to go out to take a call on my mobile. I happened to come across Raksha Bharadia while coming back. She gave me a huge smile and told me she liked what I wrote for my exercise. It was another thing that made me feel the workshop was worthwhile. Coming from Raksha Bharadia who has published a couple of her own books (‘Me- A Handbook for Life,’ ‘Roots and Wings’) and also co-authored a few books in the ‘Chicken Soup for the Indian…’ series, it was quite a compliment. It was quite a confidence booster, her comments on my writing.
After a short Q&A session the two writers left leaving behind about twenty people filled with the confidence that one day they would write a book. One of the disappointments with the workshop was that no one talked about writing books. Also I felt that it would have been better if all the participants had a brief one to one session with the two presenters. It would have worked wonders for the participants and also given the chance to the presenters to give further feedback about the participants’ writing. On the whole it was a satisfactory experience considering the positive feedback I got from the two writers regarding my writing.
Those who want to write or want to be known as writers are usually dogged by a minimum of two questions- What to write? How to write? Most of them know the answer to the former question. They want to write novels, short stories or magazine articles. But is the latter question that stumps them because they cannot find ready made answers for it. So they begin searching for the answer. Their search leads them on a quest for either something or someone to tell them how to write. The easiest way, they’ll discover eventually, to find the answer is to read books on writing.
In my personal experience, reading books on writing is one of the best ways to learn how to write. But it all depends on finding the right books. One can spend years, like I did, wading through scores of books before finding the right books that will tell you exactly what you need to know. But once you find the right books you are on your way to learning to write or become a better writer. Each book has only a few things to teach so it will take a long time to learn all the basics of writing. But there is a short cut, if you can call it one. An experienced writer sometimes shortens the process of learning by imparting a few important lessons of writing. Some of them give an insight into the writing process that is invaluable. One good way of meeting writers is attending book readings and launches where the writer inevitably talks about how she or he came to write the book and so on. Another good way of learning from experienced writers is at writing workshops.
After reading several books on writing, doing a correspondence course in creative writing, attending scores of book readings and launches the only thing left for me to do was to attend a writing workshop. Until recently I had dreamt of doing a couple of week-long writing workshops at the Summer Writing School at Iowa University. But now I feel it is rather too late for me to do a writing workshop. Even if I want to, I cannot because it is prohibitively expensive. My only wish was that someone would organize a writing workshop somewhere in the country if not in Hyderabad.
Last week, surprisingly, I read about a creative writing workshop being held in Hyderabad. After a lot of hesitation I finally registered along with Uma. So last Sunday I happened to be a participant at the one-day writing workshop on creative writing organized by Livemore. One reason I decided to go was that the popular blogger and author of ‘Chai Chai,’ Biswanath Ghosh would be one of the two presenters at the workshop. The other presenter was Raksha Bharadia.
The venue of the workshop was at the Fortune Select Manohar at Begumpet. I reached there along with Uma on his Bullet after a chai somewhere on the way. There were about twenty participants in the hall seated at the round tables arranged. After registering we were given a rose, I wonder why. Soon the session began with the introduction of the participants. This was one of the disappointing things I wish could have been done in a better way. None of the participants got to tell their backgrounds, their writing dreams and goals, plans and achievements and also what they expected from the workshop. The two presenters were introduced and the actual workshop began with one of them taking the mike.
Raksha Bharadia was the first presenter at the workshop. I had not realized that the curly haired lady with attractive eyes and dressed smartly in a skirt and shirt was Raksha Bharadia. Her presentation was good with her effort showing in it. She was also eager to tell us everything she knew about writing. Her session included some exercises designed to loosen up our creativity. We had to write ten words that come to mind while thinking of a memory or a situation. One exercise about imagining being a three year old kid had a few of the participants in tears. It must have brought up some unpleasant memories for them. She also told the participants about sending their stories for two ‘Chicken Soup for the Indian …’ series in the making. There was more later.
Next was BG or Biswanath Ghosh, looking fit and dapper in dark clothes and trendy shoes. He spoke for a short while before we broke for lunch. I had taken along my Mont Blanc Meisterstuck hoping it would catch his attention because he too was a fountain pen freak. It did. He asked me if it was a roller ball or a fountain pen. Later he signed with the same pen on my copy of his book ‘Chai Chai’ that I had brought along. When I told him that I had just finished revising my first book he advised me to send it right away to the publishers. Getting BG’s signature on the book was one of the two reasons why I felt the workshop was worthwhile. The second reason came next, during BG’s post lunch session.
BG emphasized, in his power point presentation, five things a writer should not forget- Perseverance, Observation, Wrestle (with laziness), be Engaging, and Rewrite, which form the P-O-W-E-R of Writing. Earlier he had said that the first paragraph is usually a reliable indicator of the rest of the manuscript. As part of an exercise, BG asked the participants to imagine ourselves to be a character in a fiction work and write 300-500 words on our thoughts before coming to the workshop. I managed to scribble a couple of hundred of words. We all had to read out the exercise one by one and BG made a few crisp but insightful observations on our writing. Most of the participants had written powerful prose which impressed BG. After I read out my exercise he said the honesty showed in my writing. I felt very happy about it. Later I had more reason to feel doubly happy.
While the others were reading out their exercises I had to go out to take a call on my mobile. I happened to come across Raksha Bharadia while coming back. She gave me a huge smile and told me she liked what I wrote for my exercise. It was another thing that made me feel the workshop was worthwhile. Coming from Raksha Bharadia who has published a couple of her own books (‘Me- A Handbook for Life,’ ‘Roots and Wings’) and also co-authored a few books in the ‘Chicken Soup for the Indian…’ series, it was quite a compliment. It was quite a confidence booster, her comments on my writing.
After a short Q&A session the two writers left leaving behind about twenty people filled with the confidence that one day they would write a book. One of the disappointments with the workshop was that no one talked about writing books. Also I felt that it would have been better if all the participants had a brief one to one session with the two presenters. It would have worked wonders for the participants and also given the chance to the presenters to give further feedback about the participants’ writing. On the whole it was a satisfactory experience considering the positive feedback I got from the two writers regarding my writing.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Another Milestone
I am calling it the Quarter-Final draft because the manuscript of my first novel needs at least two more revisions before it can be anything complete. So it will be a while before anyone at Penguin/Harper Collins/Rupa & Co can lay their eyes on it and immediately begin losing their minds. It appears to be too long in the making but since I have anyway spent four years on it another couple of weeks won’t make any difference. Finishing the current round of revision put me in a rather good mood especially after taking a print of the draft. I realized that there is no point on keeping on revising it endlessly and hence decided to let some more people read it and tell me what is wrong with it.
I have even more reason to be happy about it because two of the three people who read the latest draft have said some rather good things about it. Of the two one was a friend and the other was my own brother. It doesn’t mean that their feedback is to be taken lightly. The friend, Hari happens to be an author who has written not one but two books and the brother happens to be the sort who reads authors like Nassim Nikolas Taleb. In fact, he is the inspiration behind my reading habit. I took up reading after watching him read books by the dozen even when he had just joined college. Anyway, I was on Cloud Nine after hearing Hari’s feedback and also after reading what he wrote on his blog. It’s all here-www.harimohanparuvu.blogspot.com/2010/03/ram-gets-nandi-award.html
After reading it I felt very confident, almost to the extent of feeling like a published writer of a book selling in the millions. The other reader, my globe trotting brother too gave me some very good feedback that brought me down to earth. One of the important things he told me was that the story lacks a time frame to peg it on, that is, it is difficult to say when the story takes place. He happens to be right so I have to work on it in the next revision that I have already begun.
In case anyone is wondering how many more months I’m going to work on my revisions, and how many more years it will be before the book will see the light of the day all I can say is that I don’t know. As of now I haven’t really thought of what to do next apart from revising it a couple of times. I hope to finish it sometime in May which is my final deadline. I don’t intend to work on any more revisions after May since I am already up to my ears with the story. After May, I plan to send the book into the publishing world. Until then, keep the fingers crossed. Of course, there’s always June.
Right now, however, I am feeling rather sheepish because I’ve completely forgotten to write here about the launch of Hari’s second book- If You Love Someone, that took place a couple of weeks back. One reason it escaped my mind is probably that, thanks to Hyderabad traffic, I was late for the launch that was at the Banjara Hills branch of Landmark. By the time I made my way through the dense crowd on the second floor of the bookstore the stage was already aglow and glittering with Tollywood luminaries. There was the hero Sumanth, Swati, Gunnam Gangaraju, Indraganti Mohana Krishna, Tanikella Bharani apart from Ram, Hari’s brother and the man behind Art Beat Capital, the production house that brought out the super hit movie, Ashta Chemma. Incidentally, it was also announced that Hari’s first book ‘The Men Within’ was being made into a movie with Sumanth in the lead with Swati opposite him. The film is slated to be released on September 5th. That was all I got to know at the launch and missed whatever happened before that. Since I did not get to hear what everyone said about Hari’s latest book, here’s what I have to say about it.
When I was given one of the early drafts of Hari’s second book to read, the title was ‘The Tryst.’ The different title ‘If You Love Someone’ is one of the better changes in the book. IYLS, as the title suggests, is a love story, not the syrupy kind but one involving two very strong personalities as the couple in love with each other. Interestingly, after a short initial confrontation the two (Aditya and Meghna) meet again at Goa at an inter-collegiate festival after which they spend a couple of days together. Needless to say they fall in love but don’t express it. Aditya is a rebellious artist with some pretty strong convictions and Meghna is an equally headstrong and independent minded girl with lot of ambition. They don’t promise eternal love but promise to meet again when Meghna turns firty, at the same beach in Goa. The rest of the story takes along until Meghna reaches fifty. The story is from the point of view of Meghna, who marries a rather wimpy scion of a traditional business family. Physically she is in the life of her husband but in her thoughts it is Aditya who rules. The story ends on a dramatic note. You’ll love the book if you are a girl/woman but if you are a guy like me, you will have some trouble accepting the almost too perfect Aditya.
I have even more reason to be happy about it because two of the three people who read the latest draft have said some rather good things about it. Of the two one was a friend and the other was my own brother. It doesn’t mean that their feedback is to be taken lightly. The friend, Hari happens to be an author who has written not one but two books and the brother happens to be the sort who reads authors like Nassim Nikolas Taleb. In fact, he is the inspiration behind my reading habit. I took up reading after watching him read books by the dozen even when he had just joined college. Anyway, I was on Cloud Nine after hearing Hari’s feedback and also after reading what he wrote on his blog. It’s all here-www.harimohanparuvu.blogspot.com/2010/03/ram-gets-nandi-award.html
After reading it I felt very confident, almost to the extent of feeling like a published writer of a book selling in the millions. The other reader, my globe trotting brother too gave me some very good feedback that brought me down to earth. One of the important things he told me was that the story lacks a time frame to peg it on, that is, it is difficult to say when the story takes place. He happens to be right so I have to work on it in the next revision that I have already begun.
In case anyone is wondering how many more months I’m going to work on my revisions, and how many more years it will be before the book will see the light of the day all I can say is that I don’t know. As of now I haven’t really thought of what to do next apart from revising it a couple of times. I hope to finish it sometime in May which is my final deadline. I don’t intend to work on any more revisions after May since I am already up to my ears with the story. After May, I plan to send the book into the publishing world. Until then, keep the fingers crossed. Of course, there’s always June.
Right now, however, I am feeling rather sheepish because I’ve completely forgotten to write here about the launch of Hari’s second book- If You Love Someone, that took place a couple of weeks back. One reason it escaped my mind is probably that, thanks to Hyderabad traffic, I was late for the launch that was at the Banjara Hills branch of Landmark. By the time I made my way through the dense crowd on the second floor of the bookstore the stage was already aglow and glittering with Tollywood luminaries. There was the hero Sumanth, Swati, Gunnam Gangaraju, Indraganti Mohana Krishna, Tanikella Bharani apart from Ram, Hari’s brother and the man behind Art Beat Capital, the production house that brought out the super hit movie, Ashta Chemma. Incidentally, it was also announced that Hari’s first book ‘The Men Within’ was being made into a movie with Sumanth in the lead with Swati opposite him. The film is slated to be released on September 5th. That was all I got to know at the launch and missed whatever happened before that. Since I did not get to hear what everyone said about Hari’s latest book, here’s what I have to say about it.
When I was given one of the early drafts of Hari’s second book to read, the title was ‘The Tryst.’ The different title ‘If You Love Someone’ is one of the better changes in the book. IYLS, as the title suggests, is a love story, not the syrupy kind but one involving two very strong personalities as the couple in love with each other. Interestingly, after a short initial confrontation the two (Aditya and Meghna) meet again at Goa at an inter-collegiate festival after which they spend a couple of days together. Needless to say they fall in love but don’t express it. Aditya is a rebellious artist with some pretty strong convictions and Meghna is an equally headstrong and independent minded girl with lot of ambition. They don’t promise eternal love but promise to meet again when Meghna turns firty, at the same beach in Goa. The rest of the story takes along until Meghna reaches fifty. The story is from the point of view of Meghna, who marries a rather wimpy scion of a traditional business family. Physically she is in the life of her husband but in her thoughts it is Aditya who rules. The story ends on a dramatic note. You’ll love the book if you are a girl/woman but if you are a guy like me, you will have some trouble accepting the almost too perfect Aditya.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
The First Scene of My Novel
This is the first scene from the latest draft of my four-years-in-the-making novel. I know it isn't exactly stuff that'll make anyone in the publishing industry jump up and reach for the telephone right away. Nevertheless I'd be interested to know if it appears to you like it might have a chance of getting through or if it makes you feel that the world would be a better place if I did not go ahead with my novel. Please tell me honestly what you think of it even if you want to tell me that I would never be able to get published even if I take a hundred years to finish revising it.
The moment I spotted the dull brown envelope in Ma’s hand I knew I had made a mistake. I shouldn’t have come home for lunch. Ma had the envelope in her hand while she opened the rickety gate to let my bike in. I took my time to park the old Rajdoot motorcycle. Ma held the envelope straight up in her hand so I couldn’t miss seeing it. I looked the other way and stepped into the house.
I wanted to have nothing to do with the damned envelope because it didn’t come just like that; it brought storms along with it, storms that created turmoil in my life regularly. Only six months ago I had weathered one such storm, and now I had another on hand, or rather, in Ma’s hand. Each time the storms seemed to get bigger and bigger. From the expression on her face it looked like this time it was going to be one big, big storm. Tough luck, Sunny I said to my reflection in the mirror above the sink while I washed my hands. This time maybe there was no way I could escape.
I had left home early in the morning without having breakfast. When Ma called me at the agency to say she had cooked fish for lunch I rushed home, salivating. It was clever of her but I did not feel like eating anything. Instead, I wanted to go as far away from home as possible, away from that blasted envelope. I silently cursed Venu, my friend. He was the one who had suggested that we register our names at the Employment office barely a couple of weeks after we passed out from college. That was more than two years ago. A month after we registered the dull brown envelopes had started coming once every six months. Now it was too late for regrets. I was on the verge of being trapped.
Inside the envelope that Ma now put on the dining table was a letter. The letter offered me a job as dull as or even duller than the color of the envelope it came in. I did not want to exchange my exciting job for any other. Nothing would make me leave my present job. Nothing, I told myself as I sat down at the dining table. I noticed Ma had placed the envelope near my plate. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Ma had kept it in the plate. She was like that, my mother.
The moment I spotted the dull brown envelope in Ma’s hand I knew I had made a mistake. I shouldn’t have come home for lunch. Ma had the envelope in her hand while she opened the rickety gate to let my bike in. I took my time to park the old Rajdoot motorcycle. Ma held the envelope straight up in her hand so I couldn’t miss seeing it. I looked the other way and stepped into the house.
I wanted to have nothing to do with the damned envelope because it didn’t come just like that; it brought storms along with it, storms that created turmoil in my life regularly. Only six months ago I had weathered one such storm, and now I had another on hand, or rather, in Ma’s hand. Each time the storms seemed to get bigger and bigger. From the expression on her face it looked like this time it was going to be one big, big storm. Tough luck, Sunny I said to my reflection in the mirror above the sink while I washed my hands. This time maybe there was no way I could escape.
I had left home early in the morning without having breakfast. When Ma called me at the agency to say she had cooked fish for lunch I rushed home, salivating. It was clever of her but I did not feel like eating anything. Instead, I wanted to go as far away from home as possible, away from that blasted envelope. I silently cursed Venu, my friend. He was the one who had suggested that we register our names at the Employment office barely a couple of weeks after we passed out from college. That was more than two years ago. A month after we registered the dull brown envelopes had started coming once every six months. Now it was too late for regrets. I was on the verge of being trapped.
Inside the envelope that Ma now put on the dining table was a letter. The letter offered me a job as dull as or even duller than the color of the envelope it came in. I did not want to exchange my exciting job for any other. Nothing would make me leave my present job. Nothing, I told myself as I sat down at the dining table. I noticed Ma had placed the envelope near my plate. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Ma had kept it in the plate. She was like that, my mother.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Progress of My Novel
There are writers, I’ve discovered recently, who’ve managed to write an entire novel in far lesser time than it took me to complete just one round of revision of my first novel. For the past eight weeks I’ve been slogging on, revising my draft one more time. Despite the effort and time spent, the draft continues to leave me with despair. With each round of revision I find so many holes in the story that the feeling of abandoning the book altogether becomes stronger. The story doesn’t seem right, the characters appear flat, the dialogue sounds phony, the descriptions are pedestrian- these are some of the things that bug me when I am reading the draft of my novel.
But one of the things I am happy about is that the revisions are resulting in a number of pages being cut out, bringing the number of pages down. After the current revision the page count is down to 325, which is still too high. I realize I have a lot more of cutting to do. Sometimes the cutting is easy but sometimes it is difficult. I don’t know what to cut and what to keep. I think I am at a stage where either God or a professional editor only can help me. I will keep on revising and editing until I cannot do it anymore. When I am editing I am lost in the world that I fail to notice that I am grumpy and irritated at home. I don’t think I will come back to normalcy until the book is finished. For the time being I am taking a week’s break from the draft.
I guess it is high time I revealed something about the novel that is taking so much of my time. Needless to say, like most first novels, it is autobiographical. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who the story of an advertising professional turned bureaucrat is based on. I’ve made up a story of a young copywriter who dreams of becoming a film scriptwriter but ends up in the government. I’ve blended some of my experiences as a copywriter with those as a raw recruit in the government posted in a very backward area. Not many bureaucrats have come to the government via an advertising agency. This I feel makes my novel different from the sort of books bureaucrats, especially the just retired or about to retire, churn out. Such books (by other bureaucrats) usually are self-laudatory without containing any embarrassing revelations. I haven’t read many of them but Upamanyu Chatterjee’s ‘English August’ is a brilliant exception. But then again, he is an IAS officer and English Literature grad to boot.
But I’m digressing. Coming back to my book, I’ve tried to add some humor in it. It was rather easy for me to write 500 word pieces that contained a few funny lines here and there, that I’ve managed to get published. Those who have read them have told them they are a bit humorous. But writing a funny book is very difficult, I’ve learnt soon enough. Anyway, the intention was to write a book that has a sprinkling of humor in it but I think I have fallen short.
Exactly two people, friends actually, have taken the trouble of not only reading the entire draft but also of telling me how the experience was. Being friends, they were very generous in their praise (?) of my work, despite being the sort of people whose taste in books can only said to be ‘eclectic’. Anyway, I cannot ever thank them enough for suffering the experience of reading my meandering first novel which I am yet to completely understand myself. Their feedback has been encouraging and I have temporarily abandoned the idea of throwing away the draft and forgetting about being a writer.
I’ve actually drawn up a list of people I want to give my book to for their feedback. Reading the book is the price they have to pay for making my (unfortunate) acquaintance. They are left with no other option but to read it unless they plan to flee the country. Sometime in December I will begin handing out the drafts to them. The plan is to listen to the feedback and decide whether to take the next step of contacting a publisher or give up on the book altogether.
But one of the things I am happy about is that the revisions are resulting in a number of pages being cut out, bringing the number of pages down. After the current revision the page count is down to 325, which is still too high. I realize I have a lot more of cutting to do. Sometimes the cutting is easy but sometimes it is difficult. I don’t know what to cut and what to keep. I think I am at a stage where either God or a professional editor only can help me. I will keep on revising and editing until I cannot do it anymore. When I am editing I am lost in the world that I fail to notice that I am grumpy and irritated at home. I don’t think I will come back to normalcy until the book is finished. For the time being I am taking a week’s break from the draft.
I guess it is high time I revealed something about the novel that is taking so much of my time. Needless to say, like most first novels, it is autobiographical. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who the story of an advertising professional turned bureaucrat is based on. I’ve made up a story of a young copywriter who dreams of becoming a film scriptwriter but ends up in the government. I’ve blended some of my experiences as a copywriter with those as a raw recruit in the government posted in a very backward area. Not many bureaucrats have come to the government via an advertising agency. This I feel makes my novel different from the sort of books bureaucrats, especially the just retired or about to retire, churn out. Such books (by other bureaucrats) usually are self-laudatory without containing any embarrassing revelations. I haven’t read many of them but Upamanyu Chatterjee’s ‘English August’ is a brilliant exception. But then again, he is an IAS officer and English Literature grad to boot.
But I’m digressing. Coming back to my book, I’ve tried to add some humor in it. It was rather easy for me to write 500 word pieces that contained a few funny lines here and there, that I’ve managed to get published. Those who have read them have told them they are a bit humorous. But writing a funny book is very difficult, I’ve learnt soon enough. Anyway, the intention was to write a book that has a sprinkling of humor in it but I think I have fallen short.
Exactly two people, friends actually, have taken the trouble of not only reading the entire draft but also of telling me how the experience was. Being friends, they were very generous in their praise (?) of my work, despite being the sort of people whose taste in books can only said to be ‘eclectic’. Anyway, I cannot ever thank them enough for suffering the experience of reading my meandering first novel which I am yet to completely understand myself. Their feedback has been encouraging and I have temporarily abandoned the idea of throwing away the draft and forgetting about being a writer.
I’ve actually drawn up a list of people I want to give my book to for their feedback. Reading the book is the price they have to pay for making my (unfortunate) acquaintance. They are left with no other option but to read it unless they plan to flee the country. Sometime in December I will begin handing out the drafts to them. The plan is to listen to the feedback and decide whether to take the next step of contacting a publisher or give up on the book altogether.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Reporting the Progress of My Book
When I started writing the book I did not realize I would be still writing it fours years later. I had thought I would abandon it midway and had actually stopped writing it for a while after returning from the Andamans. That I am still working at it shows I am a very dogged Hyderabadi feller. It has come something as a surprise even to me that I am able to hang on to something for so long. Naturally one would come to the conclusion that a masterpiece is in the making but please be assured it isn’t the case. But then it isn’t as bad as I thought it was when I first went through the first draft.
After umpteen revisions it is finally taking shape. I have managed to reduce the number of pages from a staggering eight hundred pages to something more than three hundred and fifty pages. I am in the midst of one such revision aimed at cutting it down further. The story is just beginning to look like it is going to make some meaning to whoever is going to take the trouble to read it. I have already made a hit list of people I want to give the book to. I hope I don’t have to threaten them to read it and not just look at it every day and wonder if it is really a book that I have written.
Come September and it will the fourth anniversary of starting the book. I plan to finish the final revisions by end of July though since I am expecting a promotion at office. I want to have a final draft by then to give to friends for their feedback. Even as others read the draft I plan to go on with the revisions on another copy of the draft. I will revise until I am convinced it is something worth sending to a publisher. I haven’t really thought about all that at this stage since I want at least one reader to tell me that the writing hasn’t given him/her nightmares. As I said earlier I have already made a list of all the people I want to give the draft for their feedback. Of course, when it comes out as a book they still have to buy it.
A couple of weeks later I will post about what the book is all about. But for now I’ll just mention one of the titles I have in mind for the book- ‘There’s a Drought Here and You Want Us to Wear Ironed Shirts?’
After umpteen revisions it is finally taking shape. I have managed to reduce the number of pages from a staggering eight hundred pages to something more than three hundred and fifty pages. I am in the midst of one such revision aimed at cutting it down further. The story is just beginning to look like it is going to make some meaning to whoever is going to take the trouble to read it. I have already made a hit list of people I want to give the book to. I hope I don’t have to threaten them to read it and not just look at it every day and wonder if it is really a book that I have written.
Come September and it will the fourth anniversary of starting the book. I plan to finish the final revisions by end of July though since I am expecting a promotion at office. I want to have a final draft by then to give to friends for their feedback. Even as others read the draft I plan to go on with the revisions on another copy of the draft. I will revise until I am convinced it is something worth sending to a publisher. I haven’t really thought about all that at this stage since I want at least one reader to tell me that the writing hasn’t given him/her nightmares. As I said earlier I have already made a list of all the people I want to give the draft for their feedback. Of course, when it comes out as a book they still have to buy it.
A couple of weeks later I will post about what the book is all about. But for now I’ll just mention one of the titles I have in mind for the book- ‘There’s a Drought Here and You Want Us to Wear Ironed Shirts?’
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Beginning the Revision
Nothing I read in all the books on writing that I came across so far have quite prepared me for the onerous task that lies before me now- the revision of my 780- page draft of my first novel. After weeks spent staring at the manuscript wondering about the best course of action to take I have whittled down the choices to two:
1. Pack it all up in a card board box and tuck it out of sight forever.
2. Take a deep breath and plunge right in, persisting until I come to the end.
For a long time I was convinced that the first choice was the best thing to do but being the sort of Hyderabadi who doesn’t give up so easily, I have opted for the latter course of action, though, with a bit of trepidation. Seven hundred pages of manuscript to revise is enough to give the jitters to even the most hardened of editors not to mention first time authors like me. But since it is my own book I have to do it myself. It doesn’t appear to be a pleasant task though.
Sometime last week I finished reading the entire manuscript once and I feel it is one big piece of nonsense that I have managed to write over these three years. All the lines that I thought were funny, all those scenes filled with significance and deep meaning now sound pathetic. I feel I have made a mistake, a gigantic one, thinking I have it in me to write a novel, no less. I am wondering what to do next. More importantly, I don’t know how to do it and have no idea other than cutting all those scenes that don’t work. There is a lot of work ahead and I think my deadline of finishing the revision and coming up with a readable draft by the end of the year seems too unrealistic. I guess I need another year before I can allow anyone to lay their hands on the draft.
Sometime next week I am going to begin the revision and I already feel the jitters inside. I’ll keep doing posts on the progress of my novel as and when I reach milestones. Another idea that I have is how it would be if I put a few pages of my novel here on the blog for every one to read and give feedback. But I am scared to do it for fear that everyone will die laughing after reading the first few lines and never return to the blog again.
1. Pack it all up in a card board box and tuck it out of sight forever.
2. Take a deep breath and plunge right in, persisting until I come to the end.
For a long time I was convinced that the first choice was the best thing to do but being the sort of Hyderabadi who doesn’t give up so easily, I have opted for the latter course of action, though, with a bit of trepidation. Seven hundred pages of manuscript to revise is enough to give the jitters to even the most hardened of editors not to mention first time authors like me. But since it is my own book I have to do it myself. It doesn’t appear to be a pleasant task though.
Sometime last week I finished reading the entire manuscript once and I feel it is one big piece of nonsense that I have managed to write over these three years. All the lines that I thought were funny, all those scenes filled with significance and deep meaning now sound pathetic. I feel I have made a mistake, a gigantic one, thinking I have it in me to write a novel, no less. I am wondering what to do next. More importantly, I don’t know how to do it and have no idea other than cutting all those scenes that don’t work. There is a lot of work ahead and I think my deadline of finishing the revision and coming up with a readable draft by the end of the year seems too unrealistic. I guess I need another year before I can allow anyone to lay their hands on the draft.
Sometime next week I am going to begin the revision and I already feel the jitters inside. I’ll keep doing posts on the progress of my novel as and when I reach milestones. Another idea that I have is how it would be if I put a few pages of my novel here on the blog for every one to read and give feedback. But I am scared to do it for fear that everyone will die laughing after reading the first few lines and never return to the blog again.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
At Last It's Over
A couple of hours ago I experienced one of the most satisfying moments of my life when I typed the last page of the long manuscript of my first book. I typed the 407th page at last and came to the end of a weeks-long odyssey filled with hours and hours of sitting hunched over the laptop typing out the hand written manuscript. Yesterday was another high, when I typed twenty (yes, 20) pages in a day. It was a new record and I still am not able to believe it I did it. My highest so far was thirteen pages in a day.
When I finished typing the last line it felt like I was on top of a mountain. With the completion of the typing of my handwritten manuscript I have trundled past another goal. The real writing begins now I guess as I prepare for the revisions and rewritings. I plan to do it slowly and later. I need to mentally prepare for the next phase in writing the book.
But first I want to take a break for about two or three weeks to catch up on my reading and other activities which had taken a backseat during the past few weeks. Most of all I want to read the way I used to read long time back , a couple of books simultaneously. I plan to read at least ten books in these three books before I start the revision in August. I don’t have an idea right now how many revisions I will be making so I don’t know when I will finally finish. But I want to have a final draft ready by end of October or early in November.
All these days it has been hectic all through the day waking up at half past four and beginning my daily routine and ending up at around ten after doing at least ten pages of typing. I was so busy almost every minute now it feels like time stretches out before me endlessly. I have to read to fill up all the time and also go out to a lot of places I have stopped going. Today I plan to drop in on a second hand book seller and check out the books. I have to buy Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s ‘Living to Tell the Tale’ sometime soon as a reward for myself for completing the typing.
There is so much to write about the typing of the book but I guess sometime in September I will try to put on this blog some passages from my book so others will get an idea of my writing. Typing the whole thing gave me a chance to read the story again at one go. I had resisted reading from the beginning when I was stuck in the middle worried I would stray from my original story line but now it feels quite okay. There are a lot of changes I have to do and I am eager to begin the revisions but I will wait for a couple of weeks before beginning it
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Crossing Another Milestone- 350 pages
Yesterday evening I crossed another milestone in my typing odyssey, having finished typing 350 pages. It was a big relief since now I have about fifty more pages left to finish a typed draft of my first book. I am looking forward to the day (maybe Friday) when I will finally type the last line and get done with it. I had actually planned to type at a leisurely pace of six pages a day and complete the typing by the end of this month. But I am going faster, propelled by a growing sense of impatience to get over this typing marathon that is going on since more than two months.
I am able to type more pages a day because my typing speed has improved. I am able to type three pages in an hour which is a major improvement from the one page per hour that was my speed when I began the typing. I have learnt a lot of lessons during the typing which I plan to write in another post. But the overall feeling is of a sense of accomplishment. It has also boosted my self-confidence that I am able to complete a task that I had given myself, on time. I have learnt to be disciplined and I hope it spills over to my other writings as well.
In keeping with my practice of rewarding myself for reaching certain goals I decided to buy myself a notebook yesterday. I had not bought a reward when I crossed 300 pages so I combined these two rewards and splurged 255 bucks on a leather binder by Scholar. It has the facility of adding or removing pages and also has several pockets for keeping cuttings etc. It appeared quite attractive and I bought it.
At the Odyssey bookstore while looking at the scores of books by new writers I wondered if my book would join that league. I was only dreaming of course because I have a long way to go before I am in a position to send the book to agents or publishers. I have still not started thinking of sending the query letters and proposals but I guess the time has come for me to do it. I have to sit and think about it one of these days because right now the only thing on my mind is 'how many pages am I going to type today?'
I hope to give the good news on Friday that I have completed the typing. After that I will take a fortnight's break and then start working on the novel again. It seems so far away yet so near. But the reward on finishing the typing that I am promising myself is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's 'Living to Tell the Tale' that I saw at Walden recently. I hope Askhara has this book because
I am able to type more pages a day because my typing speed has improved. I am able to type three pages in an hour which is a major improvement from the one page per hour that was my speed when I began the typing. I have learnt a lot of lessons during the typing which I plan to write in another post. But the overall feeling is of a sense of accomplishment. It has also boosted my self-confidence that I am able to complete a task that I had given myself, on time. I have learnt to be disciplined and I hope it spills over to my other writings as well.
In keeping with my practice of rewarding myself for reaching certain goals I decided to buy myself a notebook yesterday. I had not bought a reward when I crossed 300 pages so I combined these two rewards and splurged 255 bucks on a leather binder by Scholar. It has the facility of adding or removing pages and also has several pockets for keeping cuttings etc. It appeared quite attractive and I bought it.
At the Odyssey bookstore while looking at the scores of books by new writers I wondered if my book would join that league. I was only dreaming of course because I have a long way to go before I am in a position to send the book to agents or publishers. I have still not started thinking of sending the query letters and proposals but I guess the time has come for me to do it. I have to sit and think about it one of these days because right now the only thing on my mind is 'how many pages am I going to type today?'
I hope to give the good news on Friday that I have completed the typing. After that I will take a fortnight's break and then start working on the novel again. It seems so far away yet so near. But the reward on finishing the typing that I am promising myself is Gabriel Garcia Marquez's 'Living to Tell the Tale' that I saw at Walden recently. I hope Askhara has this book because
Sunday, June 29, 2008
On The Last Lap
Today morning I reached another milestone in the writing, or rather typing, of my novel’s manuscript. I reached the 300th page which brings me almost three fourths of the way to the end. I still have a hundred and odd pages to type but I am excited since I am on the last lap. It might take me another ten or fifteen days to complete the typing. I am eagerly looking forward to the day when I will finally type the last page of the manuscript.
Everyday when I sit down to type the manuscript I begin with a bit of cursing. I curse myself for not having the sense to foresee the kind of ordeal I would get into if I don’t type the pages I had written on the same day. I am spending at least four to five hours a day typing around ten pages a day. I am waking up before the crack of dawn and beginning to work on the typing. It is difficult work but I am learning to enjoy it as I read the story I have written over a period of almost three years. So far it looks okay but I can also see it needs major changes that I am looking forward to do.
If typing the manuscript is one thing then the real and most important work would be the revision, rewriting and editing it. I plan to take a fortnight’s break before beginning the rewriting and editing work. I don’t know how the experience would be but I am looking forward to that challenge. Typing itself had been a kind of a challenge since I had set a daily goal in order to finish the typing by a particular date, which is July 31 but I will be finishing much before it. I want to be done with the revision and rewriting the book by the end of the year and also submit it somewhere. But by the end of the year I want to finish it. I am sure I can do it.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The First Fifty
A little less than three years ago I finally decided to begin writing my first novel. Being a fountain pen freak I decided to write it with a fountain pen. Little did I know then the sort of trouble I am facing now writing with a fountain pen. Lost in the throes of composition I did not realize I would find it tedious and time consuming to type all those pages, four hundred pages no less, which I labored over for nearly three years. Writing the novel I was feeling rather pleased with myself as the pages piled up gradually and the story achieved near epic proportions. Now I am faced with an epic problem typing all those pages into my laptop.
After vacillating for nearly two months I began the laborious task of typing the pages. I write faster than I can type so it is proving to be a cumbersome task. In the beginning I could type only one page daily and it took me an hour to type just one page. Gradually it became two pages and for a couple of weeks I could type not more than two pages a day. I realized that if I continued to type at that pace it would take me more than six months to just finish typing the entire manuscript. So last week I did some calculations and resolved to do five pages a day, come what may.
For a couple of days I could do only four pages a day. I have a full time job so I get time only in the mornings before leaving for office and in the night when I return from work. Now I am doing around six pages a day since I am trying to squeeze in some typing at work whenever I find spare time. Even at that pace it would take me two months, if I type non-stop. I am attempting to type eight pages a day. Yesterday I managed it and typed eight pages feeling mighty pleased about it. Not only that, I also crossed fifty pages of the manuscript.
There are around three hundred and fifty more pages to be typed. I want to finish typing by end of July at any cost even if it means I have to do ten pages on some days. It is a challenge I have set for myself and I am going to meet it. Another challenge that is running is that of writing two hundred and fifty posts on this blog by end of July when the blog will turn one. Writing is something I love so I don't think it is much of a challenge.
Friday, March 28, 2008
On Reaching another Milestone
After almost three years of working at my first novel, I reached the end yesterday morning. I felt strangely elated at having finally completed a long journey that began two and half years ago (Sept 19, 2005). It is only the first draft though, but I feel I have achieved something quite big. (It is really big, all of 400 pages.) I want to share some of my experiences writing that first book.
When I first began hesitantly I had no idea (and also, no hope) that I would one day actually finish it. I started out writing a few paragraphs every day for some months, and then I reached the stage when I was able to write one side of the page. By the time I reached the half way mark I was writing one page a day. Then I realized the story was growing and that there was a possibility that I would be able to complete what I had started. There were long gaps in between. The longest gap was a year when I went to the Andamans, ironically, with the intention of getting away from it all and focusing on the book. I didn’t touch it for a year after returning from the trip. Then one day I took it out and started again.
One page a day was the normal pace which sometimes rose to two pages a day. When I began to reward myself for reaching milestones of 50 pages the pace increased. I began to write two pages a day regularly. I have a full time job from 10 to late evening. I wrote in the morning after breakfast and before starting for office. I wrote before going to bed. The book was never far from the mind. For some time when I was working in an outfit along with cops in civvies doing some intense work the work got in the way. I was frustrated but found the writing actually helped me write better reports at work. I actually got rewards for writing good reports at office. I felt like Bernard Samson in Len Deighton’s books. When I got out of that department the pace increased. I wrote three pages a day on some days and this month I actually wrote five pages a day, for three days.
When I started I told no one fearing talking about the book would somehow freeze the story. Later, I told a few friends. As for family, only my son was interested in the book asking me a million questions about the story (which is autobiographical as all or most first books are), and getting excited as the pile of pages mounted on the table. After some time I felt I was writing the book for my son. I guess I completed for his sake. But for his interest I would have abandoned it long ago.
It is only the first draft written on paper with a fountain pen. I know there is a long way to go before I can even think of sending it to a publisher. Right now, I am not even thinking of publication. All I want to do it is to type it and revise until I am satisfied with it. That’s the general plan and it might take another year but I am not bothered because I know if I managed to complete writing it, I have it in me to see it to its logical end.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
A Writing Dream
About a decade ago, I began to take my writing a little seriously feeling I was going nowhere keeping the writing dreams to myself. In 1996, I came across an IGNOU ad and registered for a Diploma in Creative Writing in English. Though I did not complete it, the course was useful in two ways. My writing career took off when one of the assignments I did as part of my course ended up being published as a middle in a newspaper. The other thing was that all the friends I made in that batch. A couple of them still keep in touch with me almost on a daily basis.
Since then I have managed to get about thirty of my articles published in various newspapers (Deccan Chronicle, The Hindu, Indian Express) and magazines. I am not such a prolific writer hence the small number of articles I could get published. Also, most of them are humorous in nature, and writing humor isn’t such an easy thing. Hence, the trickle of articles.
I learnt a little from the IGNOU course material but I felt I needed something clear and definite. I found Somerset Maugham’s “Summing Up’ and that book started a hunger for books on writing that still burns. Later I found Stephen King’s “On Writing’ which inspired me enough to start my first book. I began collecting several books on writing but still feel I have a lot to learn about writing. Perhaps I am looking for some magic mantra of writing but I keep buying books on writing all the time in the hope I would find something new and useful in each book.
I know my writing is not perfect and has many drawbacks and faults. Some I know and am constantly trying to rectify those defects. But there are many things that are wrong with my writing. There are many things about writing I am unaware of and am desperate to learn more. One can learn the craft but one can only understand the art of writing and yet not be able to bring it out in one’s writing. It is this missing component or aspect of writing that I am trying to find.
The books on writing that I’ve read gave me only a glimpse of the art behind the writing but they are not enough to teach you the art. For that one needs a mentor and a mentor is what I am lacking. I haven’t met any senior and successful writer who could guide me in my writing. A mentor cuts short the time one takes to learn any art. A mentor tells you what is wrong with your art in a flash. A mentor can guide you in the proper direction after seeing what strengths you possess. But unfortunately, it is a mentor I lack. I feel this lack is resulting in writing that is mediocre and at best quite ordinary.
For some time I have been thinking that doing a Writing Workshop would put me in a situation where I would be able to understand the art and, if I am lucky, also meet a mentor who would put me on the path to good writing. Some established writers are of the opinion that writer’s workshops are no good. Some like Stephen King (one of my gurus) say doing one isn’t such a bad idea. Hampered by the lack of a true mentor I am seriously considering doing a workshop abroad. There aren’t any writers workshops conducted in India. Even if they are, they are conducted by professional writers but not by true writers, the sort for whom writing is not just a profession but a way of living.
I searched on the net and came across the Summer Writing Workshops of Iowa University that are offered in June-July every year. Anyone over twenty one with a desire to write is eligible to do these workshops. I have gone through the different types of workshops they offer. I find that the weeklong workshops on the various aspects and types of writing might be useful to any writer starting out on a writing career. I am now dreaming of doing three or four of those weeklong workshops which I hope will fill all or most of the gaps that my writing at present suffers from. The more I read about the workshops, the stronger is my urge to do the workshops offered at Iowa University.
Since then I have managed to get about thirty of my articles published in various newspapers (Deccan Chronicle, The Hindu, Indian Express) and magazines. I am not such a prolific writer hence the small number of articles I could get published. Also, most of them are humorous in nature, and writing humor isn’t such an easy thing. Hence, the trickle of articles.
I learnt a little from the IGNOU course material but I felt I needed something clear and definite. I found Somerset Maugham’s “Summing Up’ and that book started a hunger for books on writing that still burns. Later I found Stephen King’s “On Writing’ which inspired me enough to start my first book. I began collecting several books on writing but still feel I have a lot to learn about writing. Perhaps I am looking for some magic mantra of writing but I keep buying books on writing all the time in the hope I would find something new and useful in each book.
I know my writing is not perfect and has many drawbacks and faults. Some I know and am constantly trying to rectify those defects. But there are many things that are wrong with my writing. There are many things about writing I am unaware of and am desperate to learn more. One can learn the craft but one can only understand the art of writing and yet not be able to bring it out in one’s writing. It is this missing component or aspect of writing that I am trying to find.
The books on writing that I’ve read gave me only a glimpse of the art behind the writing but they are not enough to teach you the art. For that one needs a mentor and a mentor is what I am lacking. I haven’t met any senior and successful writer who could guide me in my writing. A mentor cuts short the time one takes to learn any art. A mentor tells you what is wrong with your art in a flash. A mentor can guide you in the proper direction after seeing what strengths you possess. But unfortunately, it is a mentor I lack. I feel this lack is resulting in writing that is mediocre and at best quite ordinary.
For some time I have been thinking that doing a Writing Workshop would put me in a situation where I would be able to understand the art and, if I am lucky, also meet a mentor who would put me on the path to good writing. Some established writers are of the opinion that writer’s workshops are no good. Some like Stephen King (one of my gurus) say doing one isn’t such a bad idea. Hampered by the lack of a true mentor I am seriously considering doing a workshop abroad. There aren’t any writers workshops conducted in India. Even if they are, they are conducted by professional writers but not by true writers, the sort for whom writing is not just a profession but a way of living.
I searched on the net and came across the Summer Writing Workshops of Iowa University that are offered in June-July every year. Anyone over twenty one with a desire to write is eligible to do these workshops. I have gone through the different types of workshops they offer. I find that the weeklong workshops on the various aspects and types of writing might be useful to any writer starting out on a writing career. I am now dreaming of doing three or four of those weeklong workshops which I hope will fill all or most of the gaps that my writing at present suffers from. The more I read about the workshops, the stronger is my urge to do the workshops offered at Iowa University.
But dreaming alone is not enough. One needs money to make some of them come true. To travel to Iowa, stay there and do the four workshops I have short-listed, I would need around ten thousand dollars which come to around four lakh rupees in Indian currency. It is a big amount and I do not have so much money in my savings. The workshops begin in June but it is an impossible task to raise the monies by then.
But I am optimistic that something will pop up. Something will, I am sure.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Articles on Publishing
It isn't usual for mainstream magazines and newspapers in India to carry articles about book publishing and writing. Occasionally, The Hindu carries articles on writing and books which are usually reprints from 'Guardian'. 'The Hindu', in its literary supplement sometimes carries good articles on writing by Indian writers. One such article was by Navtej Sarna about a year back.
The latest issue of 'The Week', which seems to be celebrating its Silver Jubilee carried an article, or rather a double article, on how a book will sell. There are actually two issues, said to be a double-issue on account of the Silver Jubilee of the magazine.
In the article by Shira Boss titled 'Making of a Bestseller', the writer informs how Curtis Sittenfeld's first novel- Cipher- was sold to the readers. The article says that no one knows what makes a book a bestseller and concludes with a quote by an editor,' People think publishing is a business, but it's a casino.'
In the second article titled 'Killer Hunt' there are tips on how to pick up a good book while in a hurry. The advice is to read the first sentence and if that grips you then pick up the book. I agree with her advice since it is the first sentence that hooks the reader and writers have been known to agonise about the first sentence.
The latest issue of 'The Week', which seems to be celebrating its Silver Jubilee carried an article, or rather a double article, on how a book will sell. There are actually two issues, said to be a double-issue on account of the Silver Jubilee of the magazine.
In the article by Shira Boss titled 'Making of a Bestseller', the writer informs how Curtis Sittenfeld's first novel- Cipher- was sold to the readers. The article says that no one knows what makes a book a bestseller and concludes with a quote by an editor,' People think publishing is a business, but it's a casino.'
In the second article titled 'Killer Hunt' there are tips on how to pick up a good book while in a hurry. The advice is to read the first sentence and if that grips you then pick up the book. I agree with her advice since it is the first sentence that hooks the reader and writers have been known to agonise about the first sentence.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Another Book on Writing
Another Book on Writing- The Writer’s Handbook
Last Friday, I was going to meet some writer friends in the afternoon and I passed a bookstore on the way- MR at Abids. I saw a new magazine- Monocle- that I had not seen earlier anywhere. It appeared quite good and I decided to buy it later in the week. But as I was leaving the store, I decided to take a quick look at another rack. It is odd how the eye locks on some specific words that connect to the important things in our lives. I noticed the word ‘Writer’ and I picked up the book to take a closer look. It was ‘The Writer’s Handbook- 2002’ brought out by ‘The Writer’ magazine. I bought it without a second thought. I got the book for a hundred rupees only.
Though more than half of the book contains details of magazines, publishers etc in the US, it also contains sixty essays on writing by famous writers. Writers like Stephen King, Sue Grafton, John Updike, Martin Amis, Kazuo Ishigoro and my favorite writer, Elmore Leonard have given their advice in this book.
I have older editions of this book, the 1977 edition and also the 1991 one. All three are big tomes, thicker than bricks and running into more than a thousand pages. But is a book worth owning by those who want to write. At hundred rupees it was a terrific bargain. I felt extremely lucky finding this book.
Last Friday, I was going to meet some writer friends in the afternoon and I passed a bookstore on the way- MR at Abids. I saw a new magazine- Monocle- that I had not seen earlier anywhere. It appeared quite good and I decided to buy it later in the week. But as I was leaving the store, I decided to take a quick look at another rack. It is odd how the eye locks on some specific words that connect to the important things in our lives. I noticed the word ‘Writer’ and I picked up the book to take a closer look. It was ‘The Writer’s Handbook- 2002’ brought out by ‘The Writer’ magazine. I bought it without a second thought. I got the book for a hundred rupees only.
Though more than half of the book contains details of magazines, publishers etc in the US, it also contains sixty essays on writing by famous writers. Writers like Stephen King, Sue Grafton, John Updike, Martin Amis, Kazuo Ishigoro and my favorite writer, Elmore Leonard have given their advice in this book.
I have older editions of this book, the 1977 edition and also the 1991 one. All three are big tomes, thicker than bricks and running into more than a thousand pages. But is a book worth owning by those who want to write. At hundred rupees it was a terrific bargain. I felt extremely lucky finding this book.
Getting Started on My First Novel
My First Novel
Writing wise it was a good beginning to the month. I started on my first novel (actually it is the second but more about it in another post) writing it for the NaNoWriMo thing. I have written ten thousand words already and am amazed at the rising word count. When I first began writing it on the first of November I felt I may not be able to complete and would leave it like so many of my writing projects. But I am determined to finish the novel, however badly it is written. I will work on it later and bring it to a shape. But right now, it is tap, tap, tap.
It feels odd writing a novel this way focusing on the word count rather than on the story. The priority is on writing the day's qouta. I am typing it off in half the day finding time whenever possible. I am trying to write more than the day's quota so that I don't have to worry if I miss a day's writing. Right now it appears fun but I guess the second week on wards it is going to be tough. My novel is going in all directions and I am struggling to keep it moving in the way I had planned to write it ten years ago.
As on today I have written ten thousand words and by the end of the day I plan to write another thousand words. I plan to write a 75000- 90000 word novel by the end of the month. It appears difficult but it is not impossible.
Writing wise it was a good beginning to the month. I started on my first novel (actually it is the second but more about it in another post) writing it for the NaNoWriMo thing. I have written ten thousand words already and am amazed at the rising word count. When I first began writing it on the first of November I felt I may not be able to complete and would leave it like so many of my writing projects. But I am determined to finish the novel, however badly it is written. I will work on it later and bring it to a shape. But right now, it is tap, tap, tap.
It feels odd writing a novel this way focusing on the word count rather than on the story. The priority is on writing the day's qouta. I am typing it off in half the day finding time whenever possible. I am trying to write more than the day's quota so that I don't have to worry if I miss a day's writing. Right now it appears fun but I guess the second week on wards it is going to be tough. My novel is going in all directions and I am struggling to keep it moving in the way I had planned to write it ten years ago.
As on today I have written ten thousand words and by the end of the day I plan to write another thousand words. I plan to write a 75000- 90000 word novel by the end of the month. It appears difficult but it is not impossible.
Monday, October 15, 2007
ECO-FRIENDLY WRITING WITH FOUNTAIN PENS
We may not realize it but some of our seemingly mundane activities actually cause harm to the environment. Take for instance, writing with a plastic ballpoint pen. No one would believe that writing with it actually damages the environment. If you are writing with a plastic ballpoint pen then you maybe doing more harm to the environment than you imagine. So, exactly how does your using a ballpoint to write with affect the environment?
To begin with, lets take a look at the commonly used plastic ballpoint pen. Everything about it, from top to bottom, is plastic. Only the tiny point at the end of the refill is metal. We all know plastic is bad for the environment because it is not biodegradable, cannot be recycled and remains in the environment for several years or maybe, forever. Besides being an environmental hazard, plastic also poses enormous risk to our health. When plastic is burnt it releases toxic fumes into the air that can cause cancer.
The magnitude of the threat to the environment these plastic ballpoint pens pose will be clear once we look at some figures. Almost every one who needs to write either at the office or in school uses a ballpoint pen. India's population is more than a billion and out of these millions, about 150 million are students at any given point of time, as per government estimates.
Assuming that an average student changes the refill in his ballpoint pen once a month it means twelve refills (or say ten refills) a year, all made of plastic. No student uses the same ballpoint pen all year- being made of plastic they break easily and are also easily misplaced or lost. We have to account for these breakages and losses, and the replacements.
Even if we assume that a student buys a new ballpoint pen every three months to replace those lost or broken, then it comes to four plastic ballpoint pens every year. It means a total of twelve plastic refills, four plastic ballpoint pens a year per student. Of course, the plastic packaging these refills and pens come in is a separate component itself. The wrapping may not weigh much but it is plastic nevertheless. This also gets added to the total plastic generated by just one student per year.
Even if we assume about 100 million out of the 150 million students use plastic ballpoint pens then we have something like a billion plastic ballpoint pens, ten billion refills and their plastic wrappers. Now imagine how much plastic that could be? A veritable sea of tons and tons of plastic which probably will remain in the soil for years and years causing serious and incalculable damage to our environment.
But all is not lost. There is an alternative to the plastic ballpoint pen. It is an alternative that has passed out of fashion long ago. It is the good old fountain pen. A fountain pen (made of ebonite or celluloid) generates zero plastic because it doesn’t use plastic at all. One good quality fountain pen lasts years so one can forget about a plastic fountain pen polluting the environment.
A common fountain pen uses only ink and not refills hence its other name- ink pen. Which means no plastic refills. The ink used to fill the fountain pen comes in glass bottles. The glass bottle comes in cardboard packing that can be recycled. The glass bottle itself can be recycled. However, some fountain pens use cartridge refills made of plastic. These are expensive anyway and students cannot afford them.
So using a fountain pen to write means no plastic ballpoint pen bodies, no plastic refills and no plastic wrappers either. These advantages make the good old fountain pen the perfect eco-friendly writing instrument of choice. Another advantages is that not only writing with a fountain pen is elegant, it is also cheap and convenient to use. A fountain pen needs little care and a few simple precautions are to be followed when using a fountain pen.
Clean the pen and nib assembly with tepid water once a month. Screw the cap tightly to prevent leakage of ink and accidental damage to the nib. Check the ink level regularly and carry a spare pen during examination time. Do not lend your fountain pens to others as nibs adapt to your writing angle and may get damaged if others write with it at a different angle. If possible, keep a piece of cloth in your desk or bag to wipe off any ink.
So, if you are really concerned about saving the environment, throw away your plastic ballpoint pen and go for a fountain pen today. It is the perfect zero-plastic solution for guilt-free writing.
To begin with, lets take a look at the commonly used plastic ballpoint pen. Everything about it, from top to bottom, is plastic. Only the tiny point at the end of the refill is metal. We all know plastic is bad for the environment because it is not biodegradable, cannot be recycled and remains in the environment for several years or maybe, forever. Besides being an environmental hazard, plastic also poses enormous risk to our health. When plastic is burnt it releases toxic fumes into the air that can cause cancer.
The magnitude of the threat to the environment these plastic ballpoint pens pose will be clear once we look at some figures. Almost every one who needs to write either at the office or in school uses a ballpoint pen. India's population is more than a billion and out of these millions, about 150 million are students at any given point of time, as per government estimates.
Assuming that an average student changes the refill in his ballpoint pen once a month it means twelve refills (or say ten refills) a year, all made of plastic. No student uses the same ballpoint pen all year- being made of plastic they break easily and are also easily misplaced or lost. We have to account for these breakages and losses, and the replacements.
Even if we assume that a student buys a new ballpoint pen every three months to replace those lost or broken, then it comes to four plastic ballpoint pens every year. It means a total of twelve plastic refills, four plastic ballpoint pens a year per student. Of course, the plastic packaging these refills and pens come in is a separate component itself. The wrapping may not weigh much but it is plastic nevertheless. This also gets added to the total plastic generated by just one student per year.
Even if we assume about 100 million out of the 150 million students use plastic ballpoint pens then we have something like a billion plastic ballpoint pens, ten billion refills and their plastic wrappers. Now imagine how much plastic that could be? A veritable sea of tons and tons of plastic which probably will remain in the soil for years and years causing serious and incalculable damage to our environment.
But all is not lost. There is an alternative to the plastic ballpoint pen. It is an alternative that has passed out of fashion long ago. It is the good old fountain pen. A fountain pen (made of ebonite or celluloid) generates zero plastic because it doesn’t use plastic at all. One good quality fountain pen lasts years so one can forget about a plastic fountain pen polluting the environment.
A common fountain pen uses only ink and not refills hence its other name- ink pen. Which means no plastic refills. The ink used to fill the fountain pen comes in glass bottles. The glass bottle comes in cardboard packing that can be recycled. The glass bottle itself can be recycled. However, some fountain pens use cartridge refills made of plastic. These are expensive anyway and students cannot afford them.
So using a fountain pen to write means no plastic ballpoint pen bodies, no plastic refills and no plastic wrappers either. These advantages make the good old fountain pen the perfect eco-friendly writing instrument of choice. Another advantages is that not only writing with a fountain pen is elegant, it is also cheap and convenient to use. A fountain pen needs little care and a few simple precautions are to be followed when using a fountain pen.
Clean the pen and nib assembly with tepid water once a month. Screw the cap tightly to prevent leakage of ink and accidental damage to the nib. Check the ink level regularly and carry a spare pen during examination time. Do not lend your fountain pens to others as nibs adapt to your writing angle and may get damaged if others write with it at a different angle. If possible, keep a piece of cloth in your desk or bag to wipe off any ink.
So, if you are really concerned about saving the environment, throw away your plastic ballpoint pen and go for a fountain pen today. It is the perfect zero-plastic solution for guilt-free writing.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
My First Article- Penchant for Pens
Exactly eleven years ago, my first article was published in a local newspaper marking my beginning as a writer. Not surprisingly, the article was about fountain pens and was titled ‘Penchant for Pens’ and Andhra Pradesh Times published it as a middle on October 12, 1996. I rang up everyone I knew when I saw it in the paper and also remember buying nearly half a dozen copies of the paper which had the paper vendor giving me a puzzled look. Regrettably, the paper folded up a few years later.
Since there were no online editions of newspapers at that time I am typing down the article here as it was published.
" Penchant for Pens by Vinod Ekbote
(Published in Andhra Pradesh Times dt 12-10-2006)
I belong to that blessed tribe of people who have an irrational desire to acquire pens. I became aware of this trait in my personality when I was at school. I harbored some vague ambitions of becoming a writer of sorts and thought it perfectly natural to acquire the requisite tools to fulfill the lofty ambition. So while my friends bought kites, marbles and other such playthings I spent all my pocket money on pens.
It was in the mid-seventies. Ballpoint pens were not yet within the reach of school children and fountain pens were the order of the day. I retained a special fondness for my first fountain pen that still lingers. Later on, when ballpoint pens flooded the market I was also carried away in the wave and for some time was under the mesmerizing spell of those neat little things. Since they were considerably cheaper I could afford to buy as many of them as my pocket money permitted. Later on I rediscovered the good old fountain pen.
As the years passed by, my obsession acquired considerable seriousness and I graduated from being an impulsive buyer of pens to a habitual buyer. I couldn’t pass a shop without darting in a buying a couple of pens. I still cannot pass a pen shop without being tempted to buy one or two pens. I buy them at the rate of two or three per week to the discomfiture of my family members who are exasperated at the sight of so many pens that my house resembles a mini pen store.
I’m attracted to pen stores like iron filings to a magnet and I calm down only after I’ve bought at least one pen. I’m a regular at the pen stores and the shopkeepers recognize me the moment I step in and eagerly rush to show me the latest arrivals. One went to the extent of calling me up to tell me that he had just received the most stunning collection of pens and I would rush to have a look. It’s an obsession my family is resigned to and they can tell from the dreamy look on my face that I had just bought a new pen.
The funny thing is that I haven’t yet begun to fulfill the noble ambition of mine to write, though I have collected enough pens to write something like an Encyclopedia Indiana. All the pens I bought remain unused until some passing relatives pick one or two to give them to their kids. Strangely enough, so far no one has presented me with a pen though my fascination for pens is a running joke among my family and friends.
I never leave home without a couple of them in my pockets. Like a cop who feels insecure without his gun I feel almost naked without a pen on my person. Also, I haven’t come across anyone with a similar obsession for buying pens though I have come across a few bureaucratic types who line their front pockets with a row of pens of all colors, and I suspect it has got more to do with impressing people than with the real intention of using them.
I have only one ambition in life and that is to buy a Parker Duofold fountain pen whose ad I came across in some magazine in the British Library about a year ago and I dream of it almost every night. It haunts me and in one of my dreams I’m taken to a psychiatrist by my family and he tells them that the only cure for my obsession is to buy me a Parker Duofold fountain pen. Alas, that drastic treatment is beyond my family’s reach and so I’ve made a rather grim decision. I’m going to write this sort of stuff and earn enough to buy that Parker and be forever cured of my obsession. And that, I leave to the mercy of editors. "
I’ve used some of the lines I wrote in this article in another article that was published in an in-flight magazine in February this year. It is here at this link. I suppose I have improved a lot after I wrote my first article. However, I have written about thirty articles since then and a couple of them were about fountain pens.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Writers Who Were Copywriters
Once upon a time I was a copywriter. Now I am only a writer. But as they say, once a cop always a cop, the same goes for copywriters too- once a copywriter always a copywriter. I haven’t been able to completely exorcise the copywriter within and spend most of the time reading ads in newspapers and magazines. Though I had been a copywriter for only two years it has left its mark on me.
Anything about copywriters and copywriters catches my eye and I eagerly read what is written about this strange breed of writers. I was leafing through the latest issue of Tehelka (now in magazine format) in Odyssey the other day and an article on Indra Sinha, shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, mentioned that he had been a copywriter. I bought the magazine to read it at leisure. By the way Tehelka carries a lot of stuff about books, writers and such literary topics written in an interesting way.
So, I was pleasantly surprised to read that Indra Sinha was a renowned copywriter in London and had produced hard hitting copy. The article said that he had written a novel earlier but the title was not mentioned. However if Indra Sinha wins the Man Booker Prize this year then he will be joining another ex-copywriter who had not only won the Booker but also the Booker of Bookers- Salman Rushdie.
WRITERS WHO WERE COPYWRITERS
Sometime back, being a copywriter, I began to take notice of writers who had earlier been copywriters and soon my list of such writers began to grow to include some truly astounding writers like Joseph Heller and my favorite writer- Elmore Leonard. I am giving the bare list here but in later posts I will add more about such writers and the agencies, campaigns and such stuff.
Here’s the list of writers who were copywriters (and the books they wrote)
Elmore Leonard- Get Shorty, Freaky Deaky, Bandits, Glitz, Pronto etc
Joseph Heller- Catch 22, As Good As Gold
Eric Ambler- Passage of Arms, Journey unto Fear, A Coffin for Dimitrios
Clive Cussler- Mayday!, Raise the Titanic, Iceberg etc
Sherwood Anderson- Winesburg, Ohio; Mid-American Chants, The Egg & Other Stories
Peter Mayle- A Year in Provence, Toujours Provence, Acquired Tastes
Lawrence Kasdan (scriptwriter)- Bodyguard, Bodyheat
Salman Rushdie- Satanic Verses, Midnight’s Children, Shame, Grimus, etc.
Anita Nair- Ladies’ Coupe, The Better Man
Indra Sinha- Animal's People
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