Why is that I feel like writing only when I have lengthy papers pending or the sword of exams hanging over my head? Or maybe it’s just the after effects of reading a favourite book.
So this book is something I have written about previously, and no I shall not go into a litany of praises for it, all I shall say is that it has sent me into a dreamy state where I randomly grin and chuckle while putting my cynicism and worries aside.
And no this post is not even about my tendency to be what my friend termed as a hapless romantic.
Anyone who knows me enough to know my eccentricities knows that I dream of writing a full length novel, most probably a fantasy or a romance, probably a combination of both. I am just biding my time till that one brilliant idea strikes my cluttered brain.
I often brainstorm ideas regarding the above (I apologise, legal drafting has permanently damaged my writing and I know not what to do about it) and these ideas range from stories that took birth in my subconscious mind during dreams to notable moments from my friends lives. But what will that incredible inspiration be that will make my lazy self churn out pages rather than ideas that can’t be copyrighted?
As I read one of my favourite Indian authors today, I came to the realisation that while I don’t know what I will write about, but what I do know is that how I want it to make my readers feel.
I want my readers to experience the fascination that Enid Blyton’s fairy tales filled me with, the complete absorption into the a world like the one woven by J.K. Rowling and the feeling of being gloomy in rainy Yorkshire before discovering a secret garden.
I don’t want to write an epic romance, au contraire I want it to be an everyday one. What I will strive to do is fill pages with the feeling of familiarity which makes the reader feel, “Hey, I know THAT!”, something that makes the heroine seem a little like you and me, the hero like that boy who was the star of our lovelorn dreams. The romantic interludes need not be in expensive restaurants, elaborate gardens or fancy mansions but in everyday places like doorways, elevators and stairwells.
No matter what I write, I hope to make it bring a smile to my readers face, a chuckle on their lips and tearful trembly chins when the time calls for it.
I realise that there is a reiteration of a lot of “wants”, “hopes” and “dreams” in this post, it seems my parents were clairvoyant and foresaw my cynical yet dreamy and wishful disposition.
Kyonki iss lekhika ki akanksha bas itni hai ki she can transport her readers into a shared dreamscape that fascinates them like it did her.