A Writer's Woes....
He started writing.It was his dream to write.The bigger dream was to be read.He was sure someone would read him....but would they read him?There was always this self -doubt lurking in the corner.Was he potent enough to hold the attention of the reader -for however small a duration?
He thought about all the authors he had read and the many of them he had re-read.What was so special about them?The complexity...?The simplicity...?It was simple enough to be complex and complex enough to be simple...but what did the reader prefer?
He wondered what it was that made him turn the pages of huge volumes when he was young.....the smell of the pages!!! And more importantly....the smell of a plot...he recollected.
Yes..there had to be a direction to which had to be followed. The "thread"-some
people called it.
"Hmmm....so the author's creativity is of paramount importance..."he thought.But was creativity
everything?What about the not so creative people like himself who aspired to be authors?Would they fail?Not all people like the eccentrically creative authors who make your pulse race and provide little food for thought.They make best-sellers ofcourse..but not much else....
He thought about all those classical authors...he remembered those wonderful lines from a famous classic "It was the best of times.It was the worst of times...."It went on.
Yes there had to be some power in the narration.Attention to detail.He vividly remembered a colleague of his trying to potray a character of a famous novel on stage.The detail had to be immaculate...right from the shape of the nose to the length of the stride.....
And the narration had to be unbiased....you had to leave it to the reader to judge the character.
But wasn't it difficult to not take sides?He was a human being after all....he would decide that later.His peers advised that his writing be unabashed.Potray a villain for a villain...and a vamp for a vamp."Write about the real world...the cruelty,the horror,the sins,the greed,hatred,anger,jealousy..."their list went on.
But his ideas on the real world were entirely different....those were of overwhelming positivity....
of optimism....and most importantly hope....hope sustained everything in this world didn't it?
But there was no plot if he were to write about only the good in this world."There was some respect for the good in this world because there was something bad in it as well"......he pondered philosophically...
He thought....and he thought.There wasn't a single idea that he felt would impress all the readers in this world.Should he give up..? He wondered....
He scribbled a paragraph...he didn't like it.
He scribbled an other....it wasn't good either.
He scribbled a third and stared at it...it looked rather good!!!
He felt on top of the world...!!!
Maybe that was what writing is all about.You write something that you feel pleased about...and fall for the illusion that the whole world is liking it as well!!!
He closed the book and savoured the elation.
Maybe it was all worth it!!!
He started writing.It was his dream to write.The bigger dream was to be read.He was sure someone would read him....but would they read him?There was always this self -doubt lurking in the corner.Was he potent enough to hold the attention of the reader -for however small a duration?
He thought about all the authors he had read and the many of them he had re-read.What was so special about them?The complexity...?The simplicity...?It was simple enough to be complex and complex enough to be simple...but what did the reader prefer?
He wondered what it was that made him turn the pages of huge volumes when he was young.....the smell of the pages!!! And more importantly....the smell of a plot...he recollected.
Yes..there had to be a direction to which had to be followed. The "thread"-some
people called it.
"Hmmm....so the author's creativity is of paramount importance..."he thought.But was creativity
everything?What about the not so creative people like himself who aspired to be authors?Would they fail?Not all people like the eccentrically creative authors who make your pulse race and provide little food for thought.They make best-sellers ofcourse..but not much else....
He thought about all those classical authors...he remembered those wonderful lines from a famous classic "It was the best of times.It was the worst of times...."It went on.
Yes there had to be some power in the narration.Attention to detail.He vividly remembered a colleague of his trying to potray a character of a famous novel on stage.The detail had to be immaculate...right from the shape of the nose to the length of the stride.....
And the narration had to be unbiased....you had to leave it to the reader to judge the character.
But wasn't it difficult to not take sides?He was a human being after all....he would decide that later.His peers advised that his writing be unabashed.Potray a villain for a villain...and a vamp for a vamp."Write about the real world...the cruelty,the horror,the sins,the greed,hatred,anger,jealousy..."their list went on.
But his ideas on the real world were entirely different....those were of overwhelming positivity....
of optimism....and most importantly hope....hope sustained everything in this world didn't it?
But there was no plot if he were to write about only the good in this world."There was some respect for the good in this world because there was something bad in it as well"......he pondered philosophically...
He thought....and he thought.There wasn't a single idea that he felt would impress all the readers in this world.Should he give up..? He wondered....
He scribbled a paragraph...he didn't like it.
He scribbled an other....it wasn't good either.
He scribbled a third and stared at it...it looked rather good!!!
He felt on top of the world...!!!
Maybe that was what writing is all about.You write something that you feel pleased about...and fall for the illusion that the whole world is liking it as well!!!
He closed the book and savoured the elation.
Maybe it was all worth it!!!
"was creativity everything?" :)
ReplyDeleteAnd I would, certainly, like to read what "he" wrote!! :)
The first thing that springs to my mind on seeing the word creativity is relativity. Almost everything is relative, right from the stroke of brush by an artist to the butchering of a bowling attack is supposedly creative. After this monologue, I wonder was my comment creative?? And chuckling to myself, I find solace in the fact it is again relative to the ones made by others :D
ReplyDeleteInteresting thoughts.
ReplyDelete