You Failed!!??
You failed!??
Yes.
I did.
You know, it’s like the difference between what people see and what people don’t!
“I never knew you were into all this! Since when did you have this interest in writing?”
People asked me after I published my first book…
But what’s been behind it? Well, it took me years to assemble and conclude this story.
Back in childhood, my mom always said that I lived in my head… Was she wrong? Not at all! She was the only one who caught me enacting characters around the house.
All that time that I thought nobody knew, she did; I would spend time talking to myself. I wasn’t a retard or anything back then, I would just pick up characters from; probably from the latest animated movie and pretend to look for my Prince dancing on the stones…
Was I acting stupid? Of course, I was! Like every 5-year-old annoying kid! But those were the stories I lived in my head.
The first ever story that I began writing was in my diary, back when I was in standard 3. Wasn’t anything original really, just the same old high-school chick-flick I was inspired by after watching “High School Musical” conveniently placed with the trio I was a part of in school, paired with 3 boys we had a huge crush on! Obviously failing to understand complex concepts like ‘Middle’, ‘Body’, ‘End’, and the problems of originality, I halted mid-way and never saw it again…
For 3 years since, I engaged in fancy notions of ‘Diary Entry’, since ‘journaling’ wasn’t yet a thing. Was caught writing stuff I did back in school, scolded and received severe silent treatments by my mother who read it obviously; and was forced to stop to keep my life private…
Wrote another story for a school competition in 9th grade (which trust me was way better than the first one in my opinion); and did not submit on time, because I was aiming for it to be a masterpiece. Completely lost every trace, since it was written on bare sheets of paper; wasn't documented at all and assuming would have been recycled by now!
After attempting to write a few poems and one-liners here and there, I started an Instagram page with quotations based on my mental state at the beginning of college, which I felt gave a sense of belonging, sanity and composure; but again stopped after a while.
During the first wave of COVID-19, I started my own weblog about Adulting and life as a Fashion Design Major, used up my savings to buy a hosting and domain; and left it for three months, (because God, I was absolutely lost and confused; darn SEO). I did receive a decent response and regretted not carrying it too for the longest time.
Although I had a great time writing for the blog, the sense of originality was kind of lost in the translation because I still felt like working for somebody and not being able to express myself!
Then during the second wave, I started working on my story from a dream I had back then (originally named Victims of His Head) and stopped mid-way because of writer's block. I could not understand the ending, I could not understand if it would be wise enough to write a story that wasn't for a universal audience...
Began another one, paused mid-way again.
Another one at a cafe in Bangalore, And another one…
What was I doing…?
I felt like, I wasn't really determined enough to do it, ever! I had practically left six such stories just after writing bare words…
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“Do you really want it?”
I would often ask myself… Why was I pretending to be an aspiring author, when all I ever did was put off things until the next time I saw it on my screen…?
Was I fooling the world, or just myself…?
Did I really want it?
In my head, I did…
Nobody knew it, probably because I was too scared to show?
All this while, I realized that I never had consequences for any of it, so I wasn’t obligated to do anything, unlike at a job when you are checked and reminded by somebody.
So what did I really do differently this time?
Earlier this year, I decided to change how I strategized things and told my dearest friends about it, giving them the charge of reminding me every two months or so…
Or better, my manager, to whom I had said that I did not enjoy the job and was working out of responsibility and need; and not passion or enjoyment!
Even better, I applied for an out-publishing company and paid advance money to them, which now had monetary consequences and obligations attached to it!
The best! I put up this Instagram story about the plan, beyond which, I knew that there was no going back…
“So, you were doing to basically show other people…?”
Well, partly yes. But it was more so because now this couldn’t be undone! The only way to look at it would be; either she is great or just a fraud!
I picked up the story that I had invested my most time in, and finished it in 2 months… (Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting to you Telekinesis: Vol. 1: Victims of His Head)
My first isn’t a masterpiece, maybe just a flawed piece of writing, but it’s the only one that I ever actually concluded…
"Now you feel like you are better than everyone else, because YOU DID IT?"
No, not at all! But the realization hit when that thing holding us back is just our fears. The only difference between being great, to being a windbag was courage and confidence.
The courage to put a piece of you out there, see how it performs, see if if connected with the audience, understand what they mean in their feedback, learn more about your craft every time and move ahead…
It's not about being too sensitive about your work!
I had failed myself, not once, not twice, but many times, until I chose not to…