Published My First Story

Hello everyone, I know, I have been out of writing spree for too long. It’s been more than a month, and I haven’t written any post here. But in my defense, I have been busy with personal stuff.

Firstly, I was traveling overseas. Being my first travel abroad, I took time off from writing and instead put my focus on engraving the vibe of the city. 

Then I was busy celebrating Diwali with my family after a long time. 

When I returned to the city, where I live currently, I was in chaos, cleaning up my home like a mad person. 

After I sorted out everything, I took the challenge of writing a short story for the PentoPublish2019 event by Amazon. 

A huge thank you to all the people who have helped me in the journey of writing my first published short story.

Honorable mentions: 

Prats, I can’t thank you enough, from sharing the first link of pentopublish2019 to asking me now and then about my writing status, I will always be indebted to you. 

Deepika, an already published author, gave me excellent feedback, I used a few of her pointers to improve the quality of my work. 

Sri, who is my soul sister and a fantastic writer, gave me the green signal and excellent suggestion, which I used in my final edition.

I also went to my brother, who gave me a good pep talk after reading my first draft, and to my dismay, it helped me a lot. 

Lastly, a huge thank you to my dear friend Gallimaufry, for reading my first three chapters and pushing me to complete it on time and suggesting various things when it came to designing the book cover. And bearing the frustrated me and helping in the final edit of the story. You are fabulous, and you know it. 

Here is what I realized while writing, every writer tells you that writing is easy, but its the editing after the first draft, which makes you mad. And you never understand this emotion until you work on your first edit. I was a little heartbroken after getting feedback on my first draft. In my head, I have written a brilliant piece that has no flaws. So I took a four-day break from writing and reading my story. When I went back to editing, I could see flaws in my writing and started editing it. I understood what everyone’s feedback and tried to apply the changes. But there were points about which I was very adamant; I didn’t change it even in the final story.

Here are the few suggestions, if you want to start writing :

  • Make a ritual when it comes to writing. I stuck to early morning writing with a cup of green tea, it helped.
  • I wrote every day at the same time; after two days, you realize your mind starts working at that particular.
  • Even if nothing comes to your mind, still keep staring at the page, after half an hour or so, something always comes up.
  • Last and foremost, write the story you would love to read. Don’t think about the audience when you are writing, write to unleash the unsaid words of your soul.

So here, I am sharing my short story with people who gave me honest feedback to date on my writing adventure. I hope you will once again share your honest feedback with me.  

Hazel : The untold short story of a ordinary girl in extraordinary circumstances

Another Rant

Some people are so full of themselves that they deny all the wrongs they have done to others. They won’t accept all the pain and humiliations they have put others through. They still have the guts to say that it’s them who are the victim while all the time they were the real torturers. I never get how people can be so ignorant of the wrongs they do to people like you keep pushing someone to the fence and when that person starts bleeding and start revolting against you, you start behaving like as if it’s their fault that they didn’t see the fence all this time.

I am furious and upset right now, but I am not someone who yell or abuse or throw things at people. The only way I know is to write and vent out my anger here on my blog, which is one of the few places that belong to me. I don’ know whether all this writing will ever take me anywhere, but how can you be sure that it won’t take you to the places you always wanted to see. Life is tricky and unreliable, we all make shitty decisions, we all go through hell at times, but that’s, not the reason that you should make other person’s life a living hell. And the biggest crime is not accepting all the wrong’s you have done to that person. It’s like you knowingly put the knife in someone’s hand, and when they get cut you say, it’s you who was holding it, while the person was still tied to the rope you were holding.

But then every experience teaches you something, something about yourself. Sometimes it comes in the form of a bolt of lightning hitting your head where you get some realization, and you start seeing a different perspective of the situation. You start realizing that it’s not wrong to keep yourself at first in your priority list. It’s not a crime if you make some tough decisions to make yourself happy. Your happiness is important too, people might disagree on that, but let me assure you I have been someone who always tries to make others happy, but only a few like I count those people on my finger, have worked very hard to make me happy. The soul kind off happy, where if death comes to me at this very moment, I will die happy.

PS: If you are reading this, I am sorry for filling your Saturday with my rant. But I had to get it out of my system, and I hope you understand.

PPS: I hope you are having a beautiful weekend.

The Crossover

Sneaking from behind,
the fallen branches,
I saw a beautiful golden deer.
Standing on the other side,
of the old wooden bridge.
A deja-vu moment,
luring me to fall,
in the trap,
of pursuing the stag.
I followed,
in haze,
The deer scent.
The walk,
to heaven,
is what I felt.
Holding the beam,
I crossed,
to the other side.

The other side

I lost myself,
in the beauty,
of that rare deer.
The time,
passed by,
And I heard my name,
from the other side,
I knew,
someone was looking,
for me,
on the other side.
The charm got broken,
when I lifted my eyes,
the deer was gone.
I stood there,
at this side.
I tried turning back,
but an unknown force,
kept me,
glued to the place.
One more time,
I heard my name,
from the other side.
I knew,
I have to go back,
to that side.
With heavy feet,
I dragged my limp body,
to the bridge.
But the walk,
wasn’t the same.
The bridge,
was tangled in algae,
I slip and slip,
bruising my dampen body.
Tell me,
Oh, deer,
How on earth,
do I cross,
from this side,
of dreamy heaven,
to the other side,
of real life.
How do,
I do,
this crossover.