by Anupama Krishnakumar
[box]What does it take to write a story? Anupama Krishnakumar tells you about how she discovered that she could tell stories, the joys she feels and challenges she faces when she writes them and her inspirations for the characters and stories she builds. Read on to know more.[/box]Why do I write? The answer is quite simple – it’s because I am in love with the art of writing. I love the way words seduce me into a whole new world. I love to entertain, educate and spread happiness through the written word. I love building vivid images with words, just as a toddler would assemble his blocks. I love feeling the kiddish excitement of stringing words together again and again in various combinations and delighting in the beautiful patterns it results in. I am in awe of the power of the written word.
Be it the sort of dark and rich writing in Lionel Shriver’s ‘We need to talk about Kevin’ or the magical play of words in Markus Zusak’s ‘The Book Thief’ or the subtly moving writing in Kazuo Ishiguro’s ‘Never let me go’, or the simple language and the profound themes in Herman Hesse’s ‘Siddhartha’ and ‘Narcissus and Goldmund’, or the easily relatable story in Jhumpa Lahiri’s ‘The Namesake’, or the sheer brilliance of the stories of R.K.Narayan’s Malgudi and its people – writing has amazed me beyond description. The joys of holding a wonderful book in hand, sinking into the world created by the words that fill the pages and ultimately feeling that incomparable sense of magic and peace at the end of a good book, one fine day, sparked off a small desire in me. Why not write meaningfully?
Somewhere in between my blogging years, which was the time I shed my inhibitions and slowly learnt to start writing to an audience and, which was also the time I began building my bookshelf with all the care in the world, I realized, much to my delight, and much to my surprise indeed, that I could tell stories. And over the years, I have grown extremely fond of writing stories, aiming to keep them simple and writing plots that readers can relate to. Each time that I have written a story, I have tried to see things from the perspective of my characters, felt what they would feel, wrote what they would have thought and spoken. In certain cases, i.e., stories that have stayed very close to my heart, I have even had that hangover of the theme and setup lasting within me for days together! For me, my stories are a different world altogether – one that I travel to once in a while and feel refreshed and come back!
The joy of writing stories – I wish I could put that down precisely in words. The closest I can come to is saying that it is immense and utterly fulfilling. It is a sort of a liberating feeling when you have written a good story. However, it takes quite a bit to write stories, if you ask me.
Praises please us. Oh, they do – that big, fat ego wants it all the time! Nothing wrong, really, in getting all high about the praises people lavish on you for your stories. But, it is a challenge to reach and remain at that not-so-easily attainable balance – to accept praise gracefully without letting it get to your head and at the same time, having the thirst to get better and better, explore more, experiment more, for, the possibilities that the written word offers are countless. Instant satisfaction is bound to douse the creative fire within one and can dampen the rage to search and search in the maze of infinite possibilities. Well, it is also equally important to gulp down criticism and learn from it with the same smile that one beams when people appreciate your effort.
A story’s journey is a concoction of so many things. A storytelling instinct, an inspiration, a neatly laid out mental plan to start you off (of course after a point it so happens that I merely become an instrument to write the story and the story decides to take its own course), a few blank sheets of paper, a good pen (or maybe a decent laptop with a not-so-irritating keyboard!), a persistent urge to write, strike-out, re-write (type, delete, re-type) and a thirst for a quest.
I have drawn my inspiration from different sources.
A glimpse of a stranger’s face – on the road or on the train, a shop or somewhere, and the impression it leaves, one that the mind decides not to lose over a matter of time; I begin by giving that unknown face a name of my own; the waves that crash against the mighty boulders and the wind that has softly kissed my face at times and wildly at other moments when I have sat down to watch the sea; music that unlocks memories, transporting one to a different phase of life, so distant from the present, bringing back those scents, the people who defined the boundaries of my existence back then, the events, the place and all that lies buried deep within that the notes succeed in digging out; sometimes music awakens the ghosts of the past and at other instants, I have turned a bird, flapping my wings of imagination, making flights of fantasy to territories not been to before.
Then, the real journey begins with a blank sheet or a blank document. Sometimes, it is hours of staring and not a word to disturb the pristine blankness. A few times it comes in chunks. Blocks of the story. Bits and pieces. Unconnected paragraphs. And then it takes quite a bit to fill the gaps. But, at most instances, it is a spontaneous outpouring. The words come tumbling out and it is the process as well as the story which occupies center-stage and I lose myself in the world I create. The words flow but they are a blur after a while and it is the scene that lingers in front of my eyes. Words, the perfect catalyst.
And after everything, in one of those rarest of rare moments of having that perfect story, one that pleases you immensely, the satisfaction that comes is priceless. The being feels light and I have felt that am almost floating, as the words become visible again from being a blur, smiling at me, acknowledging, Yes, my friend, we did it! Celebrate!
I repeat, however, it is one of those rarest of rare moments. For more often than not, when the writing doesn’t turn out the way one wants it, the bitterness is quite a punishment and unless the hunger for that good story isn’t appeased, each version is a horrid trial and each sheet that is shred and thrown into the waste paper basket brings a painful sting to the heart, adding coal to the fire burning inside. After all, at the end of it all, the point is not just to write but write well. And, when one does churn out a story just the way it is desired, it is a small victory in an endless road to perfection.
Pic : Terry Johnston – http://www.flickr.com/photos/powerbooktrance/
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