The lives of others

It occurred to me as I heard the cricket say he was about to write his memoirs, in the animated film Pinocchio, that I also had been writing my memoirs in something I had been writing and mulling over.

Romance stories from India

Reading some of the romantic poems and literature that comes out of India, I saw a lot of heart brokenness in the stories, when one’s sweetheart leaves. It then occurred to me that these stories reveal much tender feeling towards love and romance. They way that the love wasn’t tossed into the dirt to be trampled over or thrown into the ocean with a million fishes eager to eat it up. I found the sensibility, the sense that love is treated tenderly, better than many romances that get produced in the English language.

The artist’s mind’s eye

In the throes of life, an artist happens to be picturing something in their mind, and wishes to translate that to paper. It may have arrived ‘through the ceiling’ as it was; or in the other words it just popped into their mind. It could come from observation of the real world; a landscape, a person; a thing. But like a camera the artist has a snap shot in their mind of something they want to put onto canvas or in a novel.

Becoming the author – is one ready?

There’s always in the back of the mind of a writer of shorter material the time when he’ll be an author and gets the book contract. But does one really want to do that? The book signings, the author meet and greets, the interviews…the general busyness over your book? And does the writer really like reading books anyhow, the longer stuff that is? Can a writer be satisfied with the niche he already has and make the most of it, as much as possible? And not put all his eggs in the one writing basket?