splutter mutter

Sometimes, life is like a sitcom. There is a set story even before the day begins. The characters are properly sketched out and well in place. The story just unfurls with a series of unfortunate, yet happily ending incidents. Nothing, however, deviates far from the main story. There is wit and humour in everything you experience, if only you take a closer look at the ongoings in Life. The bigger picture is somehow always pleasant, even though there must have been immediate disasters. In spite of the humour in everyone, no one is as shallow as they pretend to be to others.

Sometimes, I wonder which is worse—posing as a writer and not really doing justice to the title, or trying your best to churn out something, and all that comes out is a story that has a psychotic character as the protagonist. Of course, once you have the protagonist, you believe that everything has just fallen into place. But you are soon proven wrong. You realise, with pain, that there has to be a story if your book has to sell.

I am sure this is how great books must have evolved. Something in the lines of H2G2 must have developed on a frustrating day when your agent is hollering the deadline at you and nothing new is coming into your head. You decide to make good use of whatever you have – which is not much, really.

The book I am currently working on, at the moment is pathetic. OK. I will be kind. It is almost hitting the pits. Oh! Can’t think of anything brilliant to publish out here, at the moment. I will just sit back and snoop around. I will read what other people have written! Four new books are waiting to be read.

Over and Out.


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