"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

July 25, 2005

It's enough to make a believer out of anybody, I tell you.

So I'm pondering over the book, right, and I've got this whole krackerjack ending set up. And a beautiful start to the book, and it's looking it's going to be a lovely 300 (atleast) page read, with shades of philosophy and just the right amount of ambiguity to let a reader sit back, sip some more hotbutteredrum and think about what was just said. Even moments where you just have to put the book down and say 'Fcuk! Not bad at all!'. And it's simple vocabulary, not because I choose to make it readable for all, but because I don't know the words :) I'm trying not to be profane, just mildly profound; not extra fundoo, just a little fun.

And I wonder if I'm selling my soul to the devil with this.

A lot has bothered me about the book. I still stand by my credo of not showing any work to anybody else until I'm absolutely done with it. Which means I've not even discussed the basic thoughts that've shaped the philosophy on the book. And the storyline that's holding it together is very VERY loosely based on things that've happened to me, and those around. Which I'm guessing isn't such a bad way to go about writing a book. I can honestly say that I've managed to stay away from topics that were really easy to get into and given that extra push to the book; which means I'm not writing about an engineer's life (screw you, cb), or an indian perspective on a boring life (which seems to sell like friggin' crazy now). Of course, I don't deny the inspiration from some brilliant books I've read (see post end) or the friends I've had (some might say...)

Back to what's bothering me then.
The problem with reading other blogs, especially ones of people you know, is that each blog affects you differently. And you start wondering about what public acceptance means. On the one hand, there're these really chutiya posts that attract a hive of nobodys who comment on things even more bizarre, and then there are the really good posts that don't.
Also, and I remember talking to TD about this, is that sometimes I take somethings personally that may or may not be meant for me. For example, you might have just read the previous problem about comments, immediately remembered a 30 comment post you had, and felt mildly offended that I just referred to you. But I didn't, I swear. Hell, I don't read comments anymore, remember? I can recollect getting very pissed a few months ago with a particular post a friend put up, and I was so sure the bastard was talking about me... in the end it turned out he wasn't. Strange how I can see my own flaws in another's words.
Then of course, there are times when I've been having major writer's block, but in that enthusiasm to put up something, dammit anything at all, I'll post something I'm certain isn't good at all (atallatallatall...) But then a friend will come up with a brilliant post on the poignancy of winter and feel me feeling like an inferior hack. Thankfully, at times like these, I read up on some of my old blogs, even remains from LJ days, and life seems better. I don't know how long this'll hold out though.

What's this got to do with the book? Well, I'm trying to write something here that won't let me betray my own morals, but will still be something people would want to read. I'm trying to be funny, without trying to conventionally jokify. I'm trying to be proud of what I write, without being egoistic. I'm trying to be original, but with every line I punch out, I can almost hear the echoes of another writer bouncing back the same words at me. AND I'M TRYING NOT TO BE CONTINUALLY INFLUENCED BY TUPPENY THOUGHTS THAT FLOUNDER THE NET, YET STICK TO YOU LIKE FLYPAPER. A lot of blogs piss me off nowadays, notably IITian holier-than-thou-my-opinion-is-the-word-of-god blogrings. I know, I know, I can simply get by with not reading them, but it's amazing how so many people look at these as relevant and true. Look thru' the bullshit people, and you'll see that under that shell is still a little boy/girl just aching to be heard. (CCCF: CB, yet again. Maybe even some seniors who refuse to give up.)

And I realize I could do the same thing, and still get away with it. Which bugs me the most.
Hypothetically, I could write about an Engineering graduate (coff) who's facing the real world head on in a metro, still unsure about the layers of people and learning to separate the good from the bad, with that indian touch of dalchawal (which 95% of Indian Actresses swear to as their favourite meal, the deprived freaks) and learning that family is important, while exploring the boundaries of sexuality, and how tough it is is to get laid, and yadayadayada... Man, that'd be a bestseller for sure!

But I refuse to. I cannot go back on my beliefs now. Honesty is honesty, let the world be damned.

Anyway, after all that inconsequential chatter about, well, nothing really, I'd like to tell you that I do hope it gets published. And that you, you and you read it. And tell me what you think. And if you'd like to read more like it. It ain't pissinyourpants funny, it's not a military thriller, nor a fantasy buildup to a battle so fearsome that the entire universe is at stake. It's about the simple things. And how we decide what matters. And yeah, maybe I'll throw in a lusty wench :)

Cheerio. Till next time then.


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Caught the race yeaterday (Alonso won, yeehaw!) and I think this settling into a routine with TheOneWhoCallsMeEinstein is getting better each weekend. Won't give too much detail here, but the dude is slowly becoming the brother I always wish I had. Strange, how a mug of beer can bring up so much feeling (with the occasional burp). I think I'm going to enjoy B'lore after all. A nice routine, wasn't that was I was looking for?

On the other hand, I'm not certain about the job too much. The pay is good (great, actually, considering my lifestyle and expenses) but I'm still not doing 'WhatILove'. Should stop reading Readers Digest success stories, it'll be easier to deal with this sort of disappointment then.
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There's I_. And then there's I_. Endearing.
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With my first salary I'm going to buy Alok DK2. I'm putting it in writing here so that I make sure I do it.
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Some books I just loved, yet am quite sure aren't 'big' books-
1."Raven" - Swiniarski - First introduction to Poe. Dude wakes up with amnesia, and realizes he's a vampire. The only thing he can remember is Poe's 'Conqueror worm'. The book just takes off from there. Some bitch borrowed it and never returned it. Bitch. Still ranks as one of my alltime favorite books, though.

2.The "Young Scientist" series. 20 hardbound books giving basic fundae on everything in the world. This was thanks to a salesman who threw a brilliant sales pitch to Mom, when Dad wasn't around. Drew me towards Science and how things work. All the better for it.

3.The Asterix series- Goscinny and Uderzo- Ok, definitely a big book, but I didn't know it at the time. A cousin moved to the states, so her mom gave the WHOLE series to me, and I managed to keep it for 6 months. During which I met the whole gallic bunch, and developed my first fictional crush (Panacea, yum). I loved spending extra time on each panel, looking for all the hidden details GnU used to draw. And Dogmatix was a personal favourite. T'was only when I walked into Engg that it hit me that it' quite a popular series, cult status even.

4.Tricks and Stunts to fool your friends- The cover showed a guy with a grim face, waving a hand at a circle drawn on the ground, with an X marked in it, presumably in chalk. Behind the kid is a bunch of adolescent kids with mouths agape. Yup, the marketing worked. The book has card tricks, number tricks, magic tricks, tricks, tricks, tricks... loved it. And I still read it on a rainy day. Maybe I've always wanted to be a hero like the cover boy.

Will continue this list later.

And for those who haven't been to www.vishalpatel.com yet... where have you been?

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