Write?? Right!

I have been attempting to write a book for the past six years now. I remember the first time the idea struck me. I had a story…and I was sure it is a 'best-seller' in the making! Initially, I used to 'pen' it down…there was no issue of random thoughts. The words flowed freely and without interruption. It was on very rare occasions that I had to add in a word or a line somewhere on the previous pages. Like I said, the storyline was pretty much solid.

Days, weeks, and months were passing by uneventfully. I was working full-time and was able to devote lesser and lesser time to my writing. To be honest, a lot of things were also going on in my life that was changing my personality permanently. When I flipped through the pages I had written earlier, I found no sense in all those innocent child-like thoughts. I had been hit by the harsh realities of life and decided that my earlier writings were too childish to be even remotely believable. Criss-crossed words and struck out sentences made my manuscript look like a mess no less. A few of my friends enquired regularly about the progress of my book. And I'd tell them that it's still on but moving sluggishly. At one point, I even tried to type it out on a computer. But then I found that even the initial story wasn't making sense to me and I was changing the story itself!

 

Six years on, today when I look at my original manuscript, I don't know what to feel. Was it really my childish innocence that poured out onto scores of pages? Or have I grown up now? Have I grown up so much that there are no more traces of innocence within me now? The naivety in those words is painful to see now. I still wonder how people write books. They have to have a sound mind that remains where it is all through the creation of the book…or they have to be abnormally fast in their typing/writing.

I still don't know what to do with my dusty manuscript. Maybe I will complete it someday. Someday…when I am more at peace with myself.

Someday…