Skip to main content

The 'Write' Motivation

Take a look around and you will see an increasing number of professionals from a variety of fields – technology, marketing, finance, sales or what have you – lighting up the literary firmament like never before.
Your no-nonsense colleague in the next cubicle whom you have seen spending his days and nights crunching numbers comes up with the next best-selling romance, and the bespectacled geek who you thought dreamt in JAVA writes a thriller that keeps you up all night!
What exactly is the motivation here? I invest some thoughts into this very question in my blog today.
I have a job in one of the leading global Consulting and Technology Services companies – a job that keeps me on the move across nations and oceans, and sometimes glued to my seat in my quiet office for hours in tele-conferences, but does assure that the bills get paid when they are due.
Nevertheless, over the last 1 year, I wrote a couple of e-books (Nargis Through my Summers and Loves Lost), got them in one cover for those who were missing the smell of a printed book (Romance Shorts), and my debut novel In the Shadows of Death is slated for a worldwide release this winter with Srishti. The boys in my team often ask me when and how I find the time!
A part of me, like most, if not all of us, always ‘had other plans.’ I wanted to write – rather, I wanted to continue writing, picking up the threads from my days in the school and from my early years in my job, when I had the privilege of lazy evenings and idle weekends.
And the result of my frantic typing in airport lounges, long flights and the occasional lonely evenings in hotel rooms after work were the stories that were born over the last couple of years.
How does one get motivated enough to write a book? 
If I look inwards, was it just my love for the craft? I personally feel there was more to it.
As we chase our dreams in a big and busy city, at some point in life we become slaves to our aspirations and ambitions. And it is not too long before we realize success and wealth alone do not make our hearts go aflutter. Our trophies fill up an empty shelf, but not a lonely evening. It is important, therefore, to seek out what really drives us, and when we discover it through introspection, to nurture it and to let it breathe. I started writing the stories with these thoughts.
Writing was also a cathartic experience for me. It helped me give vent to emotions that had been bottled up inside me and spun stories out of them. There is a bit of me in every story. And that, I am sure, is not unique to me or to my books. It applies to everyone who writes.
The other interesting aspect that appealed to me as I started writing was how our moods and emotions often align with the different parts of the day, or the different seasons of the year.
So I could easily relate the various human emotions with the tranquillity of a summer afternoon (reflected in Nargis Through my Summers), vibrant celebrations of an evening (the story Mine Forever in the book Loves Lost), the atmosphere of mystery of a foggy winter night (my short story The Rattle in the Horror Anthology Under the Bed) or the brightness of a spring morning bringing with it a new beginning with fresh hopes (the story Love Came Calling Again in the book Loves Lost).
The thriller that comes out this winter with Srishti Publishers and Distributors is set in the Kolkata monsoon and the dark overcast skies, the distant rumbles, and the rain washed empty streets invariably add an element of mystery and conspiracy to the atmosphere.
Your dreams can also be your motivation. You dream of your book sweeping the world off its axis. You start scripting imaginary award speeches, and you wonder which suit you would wear to your first television interview.
And as you continue on your writing journey, you feel the excitement and re-assurance when at least one person reads your story, looks up from the book and thinks in awe – ‘That was my story!’ And then a hundred and then a thousand people relate to your story and write to you. It is exciting to know how your readers could relate what they read, to experiences they had been through themselves, how some of the stories made them cry and some made them smile, and how they ended the book with one take-away that made them happy and upbeat about their lives all over again.

Comments

  1. Players guess on where the ball will land and win by guessing correctly. Slots Heaven additionally presents an invite-only VIP program that gives unique rewards to VIP members. These rewards include VIP promotions, buyer support from a VIP-dedicated staff, larger 점보카지노 withdrawal limits, and more. These bonus funds expire in three days and include wagering necessities of 70 instances .

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review - Poems by Subhadip Mukherjee

Ernest Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” Reading the poetry of Subhadip Mukherjee in his book ‘ ছেঁড়া চিন্তার Scribbles’ (Offtrack Publishers, co-authored by Dr. Kausik Ghosh), I am convinced that he is bleeding. And that’s good news. Subhadip is a nagorik kobiyal. His poems hold mirror to the stifling urban life with its rat race, with its mindless pursuit of  materialistic ambitions, and with its consumerism. নাগরিক ব্যস্ততা নানা জটিলতা... দাশু বারবার কিস্তিমাত He mocks the same judgemental urban society right in his introduction when he says: যদি তাকে চিনে থাকো যদি তাকে জেনে থাকো Boss, বেশী . মিশোনা তার সাথে সামান্য নেশা হবে ... তুমিও " খারাপ " হবে দেরি হবে রোজ রাত্তিরে Subhadip’s poems paint love in its myriad hues – from extreme euphoria to brooding despondency. Subhadip depicts the unadulterated purity of love when he says: তুই ক্লাস নাইনৈর খাতার

The Sinners: Extract #1

  Aarti was with Vikram in her one-bedroom flat. It had been raining for quite some time - the dirt washed away, street lights reflected on the wet roads. There were distant rumbles in the evening sky, sounding almost ominous. Very few cars sped down the empty road below. The room was half-lit by a single lamp on the study desk.   It was just the two of them inside the flat. They had returned a while back after dining at the Marriott in Juhu.   “I’ve been missing you for days, Vikram! I don’t remember when we met last,” Aarti’s voice rose a couple of notches, the resentment in her tone pronounced. “And when we met today after weeks, we ended up fighting.”   There were beads of sweat on Aarti’s temples and above her lips. She was visibly tense. There was a bad taste in her mouth, not the kind you carry home after a dinner at the Marriott. Vikram tried to pull her closer but Aarti freed herself and walked away towards the desk. She looked away, trying to hide the tears that were th

Decoding Marriage - An excerpt from 'An Autumn Turmoil'

  Most of us have a glorified idea about love. I think it comes from the staple diet of Bollywood movies we are all brought up on. Couples strolling on the beach, watching the sunset together, whispering promises of eternity into each other’s ear, and making love on satin sheets in wooden cottages overlooking the Swiss Alps. But life does not play out like this. The movies do not show the truth, what happens backstage. The love fades. The promises lose meaning. And the lovemaking goes from being a passion to a duty, something a married couple ‘is supposed to do at bed time.’ Before long, you reach that stage, where you can count the number of times you do it every month on your fingers, with a couple of fingers to spare. And you surrender to the monotony. The husband and the wife start living separate lives under the same roof – all in the name of security, comfort, marital bliss and sometimes, the fear of what ‘everyone would say’. Abhishek and I are fast approaching that stage in our