This is the eight time I’ve sat down with the firm decision of writing a new post. My hope of ‘at least one post a month’ has proved to be over ambitious, in spite of numerous attempts of sitting with pen and paper only to discard whatever I write within half an hour.
First I tried writing about music. It was one of those phases when I’d discovered a new song that stuck me as absolutely brilliant and was mulling over how it would feel to be a person who could create scores -pun intended-of brilliant songs that reach out to thousands of people you will never ever know personally but who would live with close personal ties with your music. I suppose I kept wondering and listening to the song, and in the process quite forgot that I was to be writing about it.
Then I tried a short story. Going into long winded descriptions of the place and the gate and the door bell, it seemed to be more a reflection of me and my surroundings than a story, and after repeatedly trying to establish a ‘storyline’ and characters with impact, I failed to manufacture any semblance of interest, and abandoned the story.
Then I thought maybe I would be inspired if I write about a book, one to me that was no mere’ story’ but a marvel of how a book should be. I started off writing about Jem and Dill’s innocence, of Atticus’s defence, of falling in love with Scout’s narrative each time I read the book, of Miss Maudie and Mrs Dubose and Calpurnia and how each of these non principal characters still left their impact in their own way, and of course, of enigma called Boo Radley and the soap dolls he made, that touched you in a way that was quite inexplicable. And well, I started reading the book again, and there ended that attempt.
Then came a half hearted attempt at a travelogue- half hearted is quite an exaggeration, I actually didn’t even reach the stage of sitting with a pen and writing a word. Then an article on out of place signs and quotes, that came out of seeing a person in a Playboy t-shirt at Tiruvannamalai temple. Again, unfortunately, I could only think of enough material for a status update or a tweet, not quite an 'article'.
Yet another short story attempt followed- this lasted around four lines. Then I tried succumbing to technology, sitting on the computer, opening MS word and trying to ‘type away’, expecting the bursts of randmomness I used to be capable of, but got distraced by Notifications, GIFs and YouTube videos of the sing I initially started off writing about, and finally shut down without even getting to the point of doing a Ctrl + S .
So finally, I’ve succesfully( and conveniently) managed to ramble on for a page on my unsuccesful writing attempts- please wish me luck for my next post to be slightly less futile than this one !
First I tried writing about music. It was one of those phases when I’d discovered a new song that stuck me as absolutely brilliant and was mulling over how it would feel to be a person who could create scores -pun intended-of brilliant songs that reach out to thousands of people you will never ever know personally but who would live with close personal ties with your music. I suppose I kept wondering and listening to the song, and in the process quite forgot that I was to be writing about it.
Then I tried a short story. Going into long winded descriptions of the place and the gate and the door bell, it seemed to be more a reflection of me and my surroundings than a story, and after repeatedly trying to establish a ‘storyline’ and characters with impact, I failed to manufacture any semblance of interest, and abandoned the story.
Then I thought maybe I would be inspired if I write about a book, one to me that was no mere’ story’ but a marvel of how a book should be. I started off writing about Jem and Dill’s innocence, of Atticus’s defence, of falling in love with Scout’s narrative each time I read the book, of Miss Maudie and Mrs Dubose and Calpurnia and how each of these non principal characters still left their impact in their own way, and of course, of enigma called Boo Radley and the soap dolls he made, that touched you in a way that was quite inexplicable. And well, I started reading the book again, and there ended that attempt.
Then came a half hearted attempt at a travelogue- half hearted is quite an exaggeration, I actually didn’t even reach the stage of sitting with a pen and writing a word. Then an article on out of place signs and quotes, that came out of seeing a person in a Playboy t-shirt at Tiruvannamalai temple. Again, unfortunately, I could only think of enough material for a status update or a tweet, not quite an 'article'.
Yet another short story attempt followed- this lasted around four lines. Then I tried succumbing to technology, sitting on the computer, opening MS word and trying to ‘type away’, expecting the bursts of randmomness I used to be capable of, but got distraced by Notifications, GIFs and YouTube videos of the sing I initially started off writing about, and finally shut down without even getting to the point of doing a Ctrl + S .
So finally, I’ve succesfully( and conveniently) managed to ramble on for a page on my unsuccesful writing attempts- please wish me luck for my next post to be slightly less futile than this one !
