It was a regular day, with my writer’s bloc at its very best. Usually, great writers are plagued by it for months or even years together. But for us amateurs, it’s slightly different. We suffer from it only when we put pen to paper. At all other times, there’s plenty about which we can write – a piece of prose here or a poem there is always buzzing in our head. In fact, our creativity is at its peak when we are the farthest from any writing paraphernalia. By that measure, a Monday morning on our way to work is when we are at our creative best! Now that’s when we can finish an entire novel in one sitting and (yes, you read it right – and!) do the groundwork for it’s sequel. (Actually, there’s something so special about Monday mornings and what one can achieve then, except work, that I’ll need to write about it in another blog.)
But it wasn’t a Monday and I was determined to write. I was just not prepared to spend another weekend staring at my blog window with a blank mind. And therefore, I started racking my brains for topics and trashed them sooner than I could say “yay”. “What is life? Well, forget about life. Clothes? Not again! Shoes? Yawn! Intellectual cinema? Don’t know enough. Music? Ditto. Current happenings? Blink blink! So, what do the topic-less unimaginative write about?!!”
Ambitious as I am, I said, “never mind the blank mind” and began typing furiously. A string of loose words and lo and behold, out came an idea for a novel! I couldn’t believe my day. I quickly opened a fresh page, rubbed my palms together as a maestro would before a splendid performance and typed the first words of what I believed to be a dream come true. “The bulb of the tear on her cheeks grew larger, before it dropped to become only a wet spot on her clothes” (Girlfriends, please don’t go “ewww” at “wet spot on her clothes” and read on. Thanks!). The character of my protagonist was clear in my head – a maiden with a broken heart, who was determined to conquer the world! Agreed, very Legally Blonde-ish but……in my words!
The book was going well when suddenly, I realised that my mind has a mind of its own. Just when my protagonist’s boyfriend was supposed to break her heart, he mouthed the most romantic utterings! What was happening? I tried change the course of the story to bring it back on track, but as a stubborn cranky kid, it just wouldn’t. After three hours of typing, I now had oodles of meaningless mush on paper. My main idea was left two hours and ninety minutes behind. What a price die-hard romantics have to pay! I halted with a screech before I wasted any more of my time and paper and thus buried yet another silly piece of writing.
From that day onwards, I’ve taken some corrective measures. I’ve reduced my rom-com movies to only three per week (from almost five earlier). I read romantic prose in novels no more than once (used to re-read it until it jerked a tear out of me). Reading poems is fatal for what I’m trying to achieve and therefore, I’m avoiding it like plague. I’m also trying to stay away from the colour “pink”. Although there’s no connection whatsoever between “pink” and “romance”, I thought now that I’m at it, let me at least grow up and leave “pink” behind, if nothing else.
I’m now eagerly waiting for the day I write a sci-fi action-packed revenge love … er …. story, no love!