Category: Writing Advice

Writing advice, secrets of penning down books and experiences of authors. Come here for free intensive writing workshops.

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Idiot has no Idea

Do you think of yourself as a dud? Well Idea’s adverts will definitely make you feel like one. Though I don’t really want to talk about those silly ads with the overrated lazy boy-with-the-Bachchan-spoon, the compellingly dumb acts done by all the extras (the actors who would be called Foils to the Bachchan act in the ad) who represent the ‘harried customer’, push me to write this.

In other words, the customer whom they are trying to sell these ads, to use a mild term, are complete idiots. Here’s a case-by-case vent of what I term the ‘Idiot VS Idea’ ads.

Idea 1: Bimbette meets Bachchan

This ad has an independent, smart girl who’s holding a phone bill in her hand, reading it and STILL wondering where she’s spending more. The implication: The said woman does not understand what plan she has and what’s wrong with it.

Idea 2: Subah se call!


This one has this dumb colleague (don’t we all?) who is trying a number is morning, but cannot get up and just walk out where network might be better. Of course our Bachpan hero comes to rescue.

Oh, well. Can’t stand to see these ads even to write my blog. Vent over. Phew.

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A Word’s Journey

An older poem from my other blog (which I will be deleting most probably!)

A Word’s Journey

Hesitant
She resides
On a quivering, moist lip.

From the broken, beating, dying heart
To the boiling cortex lobe
Through an ignited stimuli,
To the barking voice box.

She came with lightening-speed
Grabbing on-edge, electric nerves
An angry flash from the larynx
Tornado-speed to the brink
Of the quivering, moist lip.

She hung, desperately
Wanting to break free
Fly like a free raven;
Not become an Albatross.

But gripped she was
Against her will,
Plastered to the skin
By a remnant of good sense.

So she tumbled back
Into the empty sinewy depths,
Endless cycles and nothingness
An eternal past tense.

(c) Shweta Taneja, August 2009

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Same sex feminism

Let me not ramble on the concept, but show you what happens. Friend A and Friend B meet after a long time. Both have been college mates and are in their late 20s or 30s.

‘Where are you working now?’ asks friend A; trying to make friendly conversation.

‘Oh, I am doing nothing. Family takes up all my time,’ answers friend B vaguely.

‘Oh, you left your job?’ asks friend A.

‘Yes, I couldn’t take the stress of taking care of a child/home/husband/in laws and working,’ says friend B now, her eyes flitting uncomfortably from one side to another.

‘But, B! You have to take control of your life! You cannot sacrifice your needs, yourself for your family! They will have to adjust,’ says friend A, concerned, proudly single, living alone in a two bedroom apartment and earning in lakhs.

Friend B looks at the table corner, trying to find a flint of dirt there and feeling that her life sucks.

Of course you would have figured out that the conversation is between two females (I really don’t see men asking these questions of each other or even being concerned about this–tell me if I am wrong). Friend A is a traditional feminist, with a successful career and a ‘living for myself’ mantra. Friend B represents everything the traditional feminists protest against—family bindings, sacrifice, traditional woman roles. They are of the same age.

But this blog is not about who’s wrong or who’s right. That would be belittling both their choices. This is about how women are the ones expecting women to fit into an idea of feminist role or into an idea of traditional role. It’s not the men. We don’t need them there. Women are the protectors and keepers of roles—be it traditional or liberated roles.

Traditionally (and still), it was the mother/mother-in-law figure who ensured that the girl would play a certain role. The elder woman is in this way a spokesperson for our patriarchal society—for the roles set for women, for decorum, for morality. (Beautiful shown by this old National Geographic cover.)

Feminism was a protest against these traditional roles in society. The women wanted equality, the women wanted to be the superior sex, the women wanted to work outside and to have freedom of choice. Some years (or decades, depending on which country /area you see) down the lines, feminism has made itself a ‘role’, a comfortable box, to live in. The definition varies, but not that much. It’s defined as exact opposite of the traditional role of women. If you don’t work, you are not a feminist. If you sacrifice your happiness for your family, you are not a feminist. If you wear a bra, you are not a feminist. If you dress sexy, you are not a feminist. If you leave a job and have babies, you are not a feminist. If you don’t distrust men, you are not a feminist. If you do a man’s cleaning, you are not a feminist. If you work in the kitchen, you are not a feminist. Somehow, feminism is defined by all the things that you should or shouldn’t do.

And ironically, it is we, the ‘liberated’ women living in urban cities who are trying to put these boxes on our gal pals, our cousins, our sisters—same age females—and make a judgment on them. Again, no men, if you notice.

I have been on both ends of the conversation. I have played the role of Friend A as well as Friend B. But then I wonder. Shouldn’t feminism be something that just lets you be whatever you choose to be? That doesn’t have rules? Isn’t it about freedom of choice?

Oh, there are loads of disclaimers for the terms used in this blog, but maybe I will leave it open to criticism. Suicide I know, but well.

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Why Wikipedia is a threat to authority

The morning edition of Times of India got me started. It had an article on how Justice Katju made history when he made a Wikipedia page on ‘Live-in relationships’ as the basis to formulate a four-point guideline for his judgment on a case. The story goes on to say that the judicial community is shocked “For, Wikipedia, as everyone knows, is an online free-content encyclopedia that anyone — from the wisest to a vandal — can edit and contribute to.” (itals are mine).

The article goes on to quote a part of Wikipedia’s terms of conditions: “Wikipedia itself answers the question ”who is responsible for the articles on Wikipedia” by saying ”You are!”. It clarifies that articles on its web pages could have an authenticity problem. ”Given that anyone can edit any article, it is, of course, possible for biased, out of date, or incorrect information to be posted,” Wikipedia says rather candidly.’

The first phrase that gets my eye here is ‘YOU ARE’. Why is a collective anonymous community, which has no reputation/authority in the traditional media / publishing of books such a big threat to those who are in authority? Are we so cynical that we would assume that people writing/editing these pages would necessarily have an ulterior motive? If yes, then so do people who make printed versions of encyclopedias, specialized books on any topics whatsoever – be it historians, biographers, critics, scientists – everyone writes their own opinions in the story. Dead words printed on dead trees, that too by a single author cannot have more value than a regularly updated, dynamic space of knowledge.


That makes me come to the second thing which makes those in authority especially uncomfortable: The idea of knowledge. Traditionally, India has been a society in which knowledge is a source of power—political, social, religious, cultural. Knowledge about a particular dance form, a ritual, a state dinner, a political rally, a caste, a language, a culture (dead or alive)—all of these are held onto the chest, carefully guarded and religiously maintained. I think I would be right to assume that this is true world-wide as well. But in India it holds special importance because we are always told not to question those with knowledge. It is the reason why teachers are traditionally revered in our books.

Possessing knowledge about something is a source of power. When knowledge becomes collective, that power is lost. What would a teacher teach if the student has already read upon the topic on Wikipedia? How about if religious priests are replaced with a Wikipedia page which tells us stories from mythology? Why do we need that teacher or that priest who cannot add more to what we already know.

In a way, it’s a complete overhaul of our systems of how knowledge is disseminated. Internet has made it possible for knowledge to be everywhere, given by everyone, taken in by anyone. There are no specializations in this space. There are also no authorities who can write something which has to be accepted and parroted everywhere. When anyone can question and anyone can answer, it’s a much more dangerous, varied world than the linear dissemination of knowledge which has traditionally been there.

Hence the panic. There’s no herd and no shepherd anymore.

Hence the derision by the shepherds of the world for an open space like Wikipedia.

I can go on and on about this topic but would like to invite your opinions on this. Here’s a small poll to know what you think about spaces like Wikipedia.

  1. Love it. Would use it to quote in my term paper.
  2. Would read, question and then cross check from some other source.
  3. Suspicious. Who’s writing this stuff anyways?
  4. Should be banned. It’s a place to promote half-truths and biased opinions

Cheers!

Crossposted at the Digital Natives blog here.

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Keeping it short and sweet

A friend tweeted about her company’s requirement of mobile content creators. Now the term is understandable if rather pretentious (like using sales executive rather than the obvious salesman). But what I want to talk about here is what these content creators are actually doing and getting paid oodles of money for. What does a person who writes for mobile phones actually write? So I search and found it out: The mobile content creators write SMSes, one-liners for blogs or websites. Basically single liners which intrigue the reader, catch her attention and make her click and read. It means someone who can provide catchy one-liners which fit into the browser space of a small mobile screen and incite the user to click on it. For most of us, with our Tweet-long attention span, we give only a nano second to an SMS or tweet. In than time, we want someone to goad us with interesting headlines or single line sum ups of stories.

With more people getting hooked to this mobiles for content, I think this is here to stay. Easy money you think? Try writing one SMS with a 140 character limit and you will know. It does takes sheer creativity and ingenious to write that one liner; to sum up a whole story in a single line. It’s the same as writing a novel, which btw I think is fast becoming a dinosaur. I hear less and less people talking about reading novels. Especially the younger ‘uns.

Wonder if I should try my hand at a tweet-novel. Bet someone out there is doing it. Lemme find out.

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Death of books on dead trees?

Yes, I know it’s too poetic and dramatic. That’s the reason for that question mark there. What do you expect from a writer who is just chartering into an industry which by the looks of it is on its death throes?

Let me start from the beginning. I used to be a journalist. Then one day, I decided I would rather create my own stories and so quit my job and since then have been trying to live the dream of every journalist – that of becoming an author.

It’s not an easy job and I am not talking about the writing only. If I gotten into this industry 15 years ago, I would have had one aim: Get a couple of books out there on the book shelf. And one dream: I pass through a bookstore and see a child picking up one of my books and flicking through it with increasing interest. So much so that she might eventually buy it. Simple.

In olden days (think 10-15 years from now) a writer’s problem was mostly sustaining herself–both economically and emotionally –till she came out with that one winner. That one winner would be published by a publisher of repute or not, marketed decently, covered or thrashed by critics and if you were lucky, you won an award and a celebrity named your book in her favourites.

A couple of books and you could sustain yourself to write more. Basically get yourself an agent/publisher and work as a freelancer with them.

WRITER PUBLISHER TRADITIONAL MEDIA / BOOKSTORES READERS

Now my dear reader, it’s a web that a writer has. I talk literally—the World Wide Web or the Net or Internet. The internet has changed the way we writers functioned. It has especially started to show the door to traditional style of publishing.

Content, dear friend, has become free and easy to get. We are buying lesser books today than we did some years back. The reason can be youtube.com or Facebook. The reason can also be Wikipedia or Dictionary.com. If you have a ready, searchable encyclopedia online, why would you buy a printed edition which comes which is old as soon as you buy it? Content in today’s world is free. Now logic says that if something is free (like air), you don’t buy it. To sum it up, the print industry is dying as all the content can be read for free online and no one’s buying things written on dead trees anymore. Or so will be the case in another 10-15 years.

The confused lot that are writers, are clinging to different ideas of selling. Publishers are trying out the e-books way. Producing e-books brings their paper, distribution and stock costs to nil. But if it’s all about making e-books, why does a writer need a publisher? Why can’t a reader simply convert her book into an e-book and put it up online? My publisher friend Shobit, is asking the same question in a great blog on e-books and the publisher.

So how does a writer, whose sustenance comes from writing or content creation, survive in this new world?

More and more writers are trying out ‘self-publishing’. It means the writer pays a website some money to publish her work as per demand. So the more people buy, the more you earn. You are marketing mostly. Some savvy websites have also added e-books and services like editing, book layout, marketing and designing as part of the package. The people who I have seen take this route are a mix—some are those who tried and got rejected by traditional publishers. This is their way to pay and get their book published. Then there are those who are tired of the measly royalty that traditional publishing gives—20-30 percent and want more. Then there is a third kind who wants to experiment with this medium, has already published some works the traditional way. I don’t know if this is the new publisher and the new model of sharing the revenues and if it will be successful.

One thing is clear though: In the mess that is the Internet, content (I mean your or my book) needs to be actively advertised to the right people to be read. Else, it will be simply lost. I am sure there must be a sea of e-books lying in archives of internet killed by mismanagement. The writer has to take responsibility of her content. No more is it about convince a publisher and leaving the rest to them. If you want to sell content, you have to be there online, interacting with your readers, convincing them to buy. How do you do it? Maybe the route is one of the above. Maybe those are desperate ways of traditional modes who don’t understand this new dark world.

Maybe the answer is completely different: The story that is interactive, or uses different mediums to be told—a comic book, a video, an e-book, a web application, a mobile app, a game – all seamlessly stitched together. Or maybe it creates a web – as complex as the Web itself—built upon by various people (author and reader) who own and nurture it. Maybe this becomes the new medium, the new novel. The one every traditionalist will call ‘scrape’ or ‘trashy’ before it becomes the norm.

I still haven’t figured out how the author will earn money out of this new world. But one thing remains certain and gives me constant assurance. Everyone still loves to hear a story. I just need to figure out where my readers are sitting, waiting for a story to come by.

More, when I understand this better.

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My sunlit study

If I take a picture of my office early Monday morning since I was very enthused in going back to work after a three-day chutti. I must be doing something right! Oh and it’s not an office, it’s a study J

Stream of light and flashes of yellow. Don’t miss my pink cup on the table. The colours bring out my happiness and help me build up creative stories! Thanks to my husband for making it happen!

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Writing horror

Trying to write a horror story but the characters keep bringing in more drama in than a horror requires. Controlling the people is becoming a problem. An extract I will most probably delete from the story:

‘Oh my Gawd! Are you smiling Mr Mishra!’

Mohan looked up with a start. He had been so deeply sunk into his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Mrs Gowda walk into the teacher’s room with her gang of lady teachers. It was almost lunch time, he noticed, looking up at the huge black clock on the broken wall at the far end.

‘What’s the special occasion, Mr Mishra. You seem to be smiling to yourself.’

Mrs Gowda looked excited at the prospect of needling Mr Mishra. Her breasts jutted out like beaks of twin crows from her black sari blouse. That and her huge body, draped in a tight chiffon sari, blocked the remnants of sunlight streaming from the window behind. Mohan looked up towards her sneering face.

‘Yes, yes, tell us Mr Mishra, we want to know too’ echoed the other me-toos who hung around Mrs Gowrah, looking up to her. His stretched lips sunk back into a frown.

‘No, Mrs Gowda. It was nothing.’

He hated this room. He hated these Pink Lizards. He wanted to throttle them all

‘Hmm. I seem to have made a mistake. Mr Mishra could never smile. He has no sense of humour.’ She said, laughing. The other girls followed their crow leader into a cacophony of laughter.

Most days, he would have been depressed by this. But he didn’t mind. Not today. Today, he had found the perfect solution. Murder. The path that will set him free. He stared on his computer screen and pretending to type.

M_U_R_D….

He quickly pressed the Delete key looking around hurriedly to ensure that no one had noticed. It was definitely on his mind. Murder. He rolled the word in his tongue and smiled and puckered his lips. It was a delicious thought.

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My wedding poem

Just discovered the poem I had written for my wedding! Had completely forgotten about the emotions I felt then. This was made into a card and sent to all our friends. Hope you enjoy it!

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My Pile of Things

A dog-eared book
With a scribbled smiley
Accidently splashed with water
Now a confused clown.

That dirty, stuffed pink rabbit
Clipped on the glass
Of a closed god’s shelf.

A dried browned petal of a rose
Pressed carefully between yellowed pages
Leaving behind silhouette imprints
Of forgotten, hazy memories.

A silver ring with multiple loops
A play thing.
A sign of impatience in coffee houses.

Old, discarded cellphone
With the plastic screen scratched.

A broken brown coffee cup
Used as a fancy pen stand.

Trophy for five years’ service
Standing proudly on an untouched mantelshelf.

Honeymoon wine bottles
Painted with sky blue and sun yellow
Fading in a corner
With spidery soft web spun around them.

© Shweta Taneja, August 2010