It has been four years since I last posted here- four long, eventful years. I could give a lot of reasons for not writing a book, but in truth there's only one: I got lazy.
Over the years, I keep getting mails from time to time when anyone visits this blog. I wont lie. The thought of taking it down occurred to me more than once. But I never got to it. Maybe because this was like a photo album of a journey I took. I aborted the trip halfway through many a times, but the post brought back bittersweet memories of exploring uncharted roads and getting lost.
I often returned to the pages of this blog, reading my own posts, enjoying them for what it was worth, sometimes just for my naivety. I wanted to post a last goodbye, but I could not bring myself to post anything. Only someone who was writing a book could post here. Not someone who kept making false starts. Maybe the blog could remain just as unfinished as that book of mine.
But now I can revive this old journal of mine with no sense of shame. I am writing again. I havent given up after a false start. I have continued on till the next one and the one after that. For the past eighteen months, I have written almost every morning. Now I have 60000 words of a novel that is well on its way to completion. I have hit obstacles, but I have kept fighting them. For eighteen months, I have gotten up at 6:00 every morning and put down at least 500 words every day. Most of them unusable. But over the days, I have 60000 words of a usable first draft. A draft with a story where characters have motivation, and shit gets f*cked up for them, again and again and again.
Is it a good story? I don't know. Would people like it? I don't know. But at this point I don't care. I have a book. I finally have a book that I can complete. And if I can do one, I can do one more. And one more after that. Now I know how. The gist of the message is this: I am back, and I am here to stay!
Over the years, I keep getting mails from time to time when anyone visits this blog. I wont lie. The thought of taking it down occurred to me more than once. But I never got to it. Maybe because this was like a photo album of a journey I took. I aborted the trip halfway through many a times, but the post brought back bittersweet memories of exploring uncharted roads and getting lost.
I often returned to the pages of this blog, reading my own posts, enjoying them for what it was worth, sometimes just for my naivety. I wanted to post a last goodbye, but I could not bring myself to post anything. Only someone who was writing a book could post here. Not someone who kept making false starts. Maybe the blog could remain just as unfinished as that book of mine.
But now I can revive this old journal of mine with no sense of shame. I am writing again. I havent given up after a false start. I have continued on till the next one and the one after that. For the past eighteen months, I have written almost every morning. Now I have 60000 words of a novel that is well on its way to completion. I have hit obstacles, but I have kept fighting them. For eighteen months, I have gotten up at 6:00 every morning and put down at least 500 words every day. Most of them unusable. But over the days, I have 60000 words of a usable first draft. A draft with a story where characters have motivation, and shit gets f*cked up for them, again and again and again.
Is it a good story? I don't know. Would people like it? I don't know. But at this point I don't care. I have a book. I finally have a book that I can complete. And if I can do one, I can do one more. And one more after that. Now I know how. The gist of the message is this: I am back, and I am here to stay!
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