Excursions avatar

Excursions

I have been writing a lot less recently - I wish I knew why. I think the prime reason for that is the recent change in routine. I’m not sure the blame lies completely there though. I just dont feel I’ve enough time.

Yesterday marked the beginning of Navratri, a nine-day festival for us Indians. And again, as has been the trend this year, the festivities are dampened by the phantom presence and talks of pandemic rampaging outside.

Each year, Ganesh Chaturthi, the long 10-day festival begins the season of festivals here in India. Everyone accepts that once the August dawns, it never is too long when we are already ringing the new year celebrations. We and our families are too busy with one festival after another.

This year the festivals did arrive, but the festivities were lacking. In India, we love celebrating our festivals outside, and with others. With our extended families and friends. We welcome them at home, and we don't hesitate to visit them and wish them loads of happiness.

So no surprise this year's festivals have been a lot different and a lot less fun. I understand the gravity of the situation that all us in the world find ourselves trapped in. But we Indians are known to dance away our fears and stresses together, as we celebrate our festivals.

From North to South, East to West of India, there are different names for the each (and at times the same) festival. But the purpose is common - celebrate the feeling of togetherness and of happiness that that togetherness brings to us. In that sense, this year has been dampening.

Anyway, Navratri began yesterday. Unlike each year, we are all working from home and hence have got a chance to be with our parents. Usually, my wife and my mother fast throughout these nine days of Navratri. They are not changing there routine, they will fast even this year. To keep me appreciative of how difficult that is, I have decided to fast today.

But the DJs blaring the loud sounds from the pandals set up for Garba are missing this year. Also missing are the endless debates between left and right on how we should stop spreading the noise pollution. Missing are the colourful stalls selling Gagra cholis and missing is the excitement of getting ready as per the colour schedule for each Garba night.

Sure, I understand the reason for all the gloom and also realize that we have bigger problems in front of us. But I abhor this year because it's stripping away the opportunities from us to celebrate and gain the strength we need to face the problems.

I hate shopping for deodorant...

That sentiment is a lot stronger for me in today's times of a pandemic that spreads by touching any of the open holes on a human's face. I'm tensed anytime I'm to touch my own face these days, especially if I don't have a hand wash or sanitizer around. I hate this crazy, fucking virus.

You can stop eating particular meat or can boil & reboil the water before drinking it. You can kill all the mosquitos around or have yourself bathed in repellant. But how the fuck do you not touch your own face? That's like asking your kid to not put herself in harm's way - she invariably will.

Anyway, with the bottled up frustration out of the way, my dislike for shopping for deodorant isn't new. So much so that it's no longer just a harmless dislike, it's a feeling of extreme hate. How the hell do you decide if a deodorant is good or not? I don't know how it's done at other places, but here in India, trying out a fragrance from a tester pack is pretty common while shopping for a deodorant. Everybody does it. Everybody apparent can do it. Except me. I never learned how to keep the fragrances separate. Once I've tried two, everything smells the same to my picky nose - you might as well make me smell the water and still get a comment from me after that.

The way-out for me earlier was that I would only try a couple and select one from those. I can't say it always works - I end up choosing one that smells the worst. Too strong or too mild or yuck. These are the only reactions I get from my family. I haven't let that affect me until now - I have managed to convince myself that no one likes how the other smells. As long as I'm happy with how I smell - or there's a complete lack of any form of smell for that matter - I was fine. So I bought whatever smelled best for me or didn't smell at all from the two I tried.

This trial for fragrances is out of the picture in the pandemic times. There just are too many logistical problems.

What's the other way then? You can for once judge a book by its cover or title, but there's no way one can judge a deodorant by its canister. I mean all fucking look the same. You can't select one because its nozzle opens up funny or the shape of the container is "different". The content isn't.

And what's with naming the fragrances? Dark Temptation, Sea Drift, Thunder Bolt, Regal Burst, Voyage. When every fragrance could be named as simply as "strong", "mild" and "mildest", fact that marketing would spend so much time and money to come up with these names makes no sense to me. How am I supposed to select between Dark Temptation and Gold Temptation?

And the money that marketing spends on the advertisement for men's deodorant must absolutely go down the drain. The only message they aim to deliver apparently is put this on and be a magnet for girls? Or be sensual? Or be "irresistible"? On the other hand, how can you even advertise for fragrance? The only thing you can say is it smells good.

Or simply strong, mild or mildest. I'm telling you, it is simple to solve this problem. Just use those names.

Anyway, I went shopping for deodorant today again. Looking at me struggling, toying around with all black canisters, the store owner pulled all the options away, kept one in front of me and said, "you will love this, sir, trust me". That won't have done it, but then he added, "you will click a picture of this and come again next time asking for this one".

Once I returned home with that deodorant, I minutely stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering what in the way I dressed gave that store owner the feeling that I can't read English.

I also binge-watched the complete final season of The Good Place. I didn't like it at all - such a disappointing finale for a brilliant series overall. With unnecessary blabbering and too much of gyan, it just went downhill with each episode. About an hour-long final one was a drag - half-an-hour too long, maybe. I wonder which are the shows that have a timely, yet brilliant end - where once it's done, you go, "Is that over? So soon?" The Newsroom?

I watched Moneyball today and, as someone who doesn't fully understand baseball, I didn't like it as much as the ratings would suggest. Sure, it's a good drama, but not a good sports movie. It felt tailored-made specifically for US viewers.

Changed, yet Stayed the Same

Hello friend,

I took a brief time off in the last couple of weeks to reflect on what I have learned about me and you, the reader, as I published the first ten issues of this newsletter. Having recognized the challenges and the key aspects of the process that I need to focus on, I’m changing things up with the newsletter in this second outing, if I may call it that. With the promise of keeping the core the same, I just want to experiment with a shorter version of each issue - 3 wonderful works on and of writing.

Also, I would be sending out the issue every 2 weeks going ahead to lend myself ample time to read and word a brief commentary about each recommendation I’ve for you.

With the awkward announcement out of the way, here we go with this week’s issue.

Uncanny the Singing that Comes from Certain Husks →

I have rarely read a more ornate description for a writer than what Joy Williams has in her brilliant essay. It’s a short read, but it makes you pause and ponder over each idea. Just for Joy’s fascinating interpretation of the tale of a man’s fate and what that represents for a writer, I would bookmark this essay and reread it occasionally.

A writer’s awareness must never be inadequate. Still, it will never be adequate to the greater awareness of the work itself, the work that the writer is trying to write. The writer must not really know what he is knowing, what he is learning to know when he writes, which is more than the knowing of it. A writer loves the dark, loves it, but is always fumbling around in the light. The writer is separate from his work but that’s all the writer is—what he writes. A writer must be smart but not too smart. He must be dumb enough to break himself to harness. He must be reckless and patient and daring and dull—for what is duller than writing, trying to write?

Thoughts on Writing →

Each time I read this insightful post from Elizabeth Gilbert, I find a new advice that I had missed earlier. Every paragraph, every statement is a nice reminder for each writer, aspiring and established, to focus on what matters the most to keep writing. Elizabeth talks about how she herself got started writing, how every writer should handle rejections and yet should keep trying with unwavering desire to write more. “It’s not the world’s fault that you want to be an artist…now get back to work” - I’ve framed this blunt, yet effective, suggestion from Elizabeth on the wall opposite to my writing desk.

Insanity is a very tempting path for artists, but we don’t need any more of that in the world at the moment, so please resist your call to insanity. We need more creation, not more destruction. We need our artists more than ever, and we need them to be stable, steadfast, honorable and brave – they are our soldiers, our hope. If you decide to write, then you must do it, as Balzac said, “like a miner buried under a fallen roof.” Become a knight, a force of diligence and faith. I don’t know how else to do it except that way.

The Ecstasy of Influence →

Jonathan Lethem succinctly and pointedly talks about the thin line between inspiration and plagiarism in the varied art forms. With an observation, that “literature has always been a crucible in which familiar themes are continually recast” and backing it by abundant examples, Jonathan goes on to speculate if there exists such a line at all.

Most artists are brought to their vocation when their own nascent gifts are awakened by the work of a master. That is to say, most artists are converted to art by art itself. Finding one’s voice isn’t just an emptying and purifying oneself of the words of others but an adopting and embracing of filiations, communities, and discourses. Inspiration could be called inhaling the memory of an act never experienced. Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void but out of chaos. Any artist knows these truths, no matter how deeply he or she submerges that knowing.

Postscript

Have any recommendations or feedback for me? I’d love to hear from you. Just hit reply, or you can even email me.

Thank you for reading and sharing.

-Amit

I enjoy reading books and essays in the humour genre the most. However, I find it extremely difficult to consistently find something funny that excites me. I look at the Goodreads recommendations for humour and all are memoir types. Or they were written a long time back. Is this genre just not explored anymore? Why do so few people write funny fiction?

Having written a few humour short stories myself, I understand that it is an extremely difficult genre to master. You can't write something that everyone will find funny. Some will like what's written, while some will consider it to be absolutely silly, or even garbage. Maybe that's the reason not many want to go through the trouble of writing something that won't find universal acceptance.

I do wonder, at times, that may be the issue is about discovery. Maybe a lot of good humour is written but I am not aware of it. If that's the case, I would like to know of them.

So what's the best humour that you have recently read, preferably something that's not memoir (because am tired of reading short essays that are only funny in parts). I would love if they are pure fiction. Or fantasy even. I am ok to read anything and everything funny. Especially in today's dire times.

I read this heartfelt post at McSweeney's by Jen Coleman, a high school English teacher, on children already returning to schools amidst the pandemic. It makes no sense to me that someone somewhere is making a decision that puts these budding souls at risk just so that the perception of "we, the leaders, are handling it well" can be maintained. I am happy in my developing country if that's how a developed one handles crises.

That Sharpie tells me everything I need to know about teaching through COVID. We could have poured resources into prevention. We could’ve spent all summer enforcing mask use and social distancing. We could’ve sacrificed small pleasures for the greater good. We could’ve kept this from happening. But instead, we’re blindly barreling toward reopening even though we know teachers and students will die. We’re going to treat COVID the same way we treat school shootings.

I finished reading the second book in The Rabbi Small Mysteries series, Saturday the Rabbi Went Hungry. Though I enjoyed this story, the overall experience was a bit dampened by the political subplots and unnecessary chatters.

Sure, every discussion that Rabbi was involved in was, though repetitive, refreshing; it was a welcome lesson on Jewish traditions and values. However, unlike the first book in the series, the mystery and the rabbi didn't feel like the core of this one.

A good quick read, nonetheless.

★★★

Getting Back to Reading More Books

If there's one positive change that the lockdown has brought into my routine, it would be that I am reading a lot more, both online essays & books. My Goodreads currently reading list is full of some wonderful books. It is a result of some intentional changes in my habit and the easy availability of a lot of free time.

I am "reading" a lot more books in their audio forms. The Audible subscription has been one of the best investments. I enjoy listening to books as I am doing other tasks. Be it the regular household choir or exercising. So if I am thoroughly involved in a book, it clearly shows in my walk/run times. I would go on long walks just to "read" more.

Additionally, I have since long stopped carrying my mobile phone with me - rather I keep my Kindle around. I always take it along as I move through my routine. This is my observation when I had first started following this habit a while back.

I take my kindle, walk to my balcony or to my terrace or to the garden and settle there. Without my phone. Or my iPad. Anyone needs my attention, they have to come and fetch me. And I realised I was back to being more earnest while reading.

This holds even today. So whenever my mind reaches out for some getaway, it's the list of books that is accessible. Not some social media feed. Or emails. No risk of doom-scrolling.

I have also realized that I can't read only one book at a time. What I want to read depends on a lot many external factors. My mood, the weather, what and who am surrounded by, the thoughts my mind is full of. So I have a list of 10 books that I am reading at any given time based on these factors. And I don't hold myself to add another to the list if none of these excites me some time.

Being a completionist has been a habit that I was proud of one time; that's not the case any more. If a book is unable to hold my attention, I will stop reading it. I will skip chapters if it is non-fiction to see if there's any other chapter that interests me. There are more pages that we can eagerly turn than there are minutes that we can breathe. Don't touch a book that doesn't keep you excited to turn to the next page.

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”

Hunter S. Thompson

I asked Alexa to set a reminder for 10 PM. She did, however for the next day. Then I asked Siri to do the same. She said there's no app that can do that. Well, Reminders app was offloaded. Because, storage. Then I asked Google. It did what I wanted.

Book Review - Friday the Rabbi Slept Late

Through some wonderful recommendations from folks I have learnt to trust now, I came across this brilliant mystery series featuring one of the most likeable characters I have read, Rabbi Small. I enjoy reading mystery as a genre the most - in that whodunit has a special place in my mind. It is the most difficult genre to write effectively.

This short read falls in the category that Agatha Christie had mastered -- the story unravels itself for both the reader and the central characters together. Everything is laid out in front of the reader with nothing being held back by the "intelligent" detective. I hate the I-knew-it-all-along sort of twists. The mysteries that don't employ such ploys can leave you with satisfaction that is of the highest order.

It is not the underlying mystery that charmed me though. It is the sincere presentation of Jewish culture in a small-town community of Barnard's Crossing, notwithstanding the humorous undertone that author Harry Kemelman maintains throughout. I loved the setting of the lovable town and the characters big and small - I connected with each one of them. I enjoyed the discussions that David Small gets into every now and then, for that matter right from the get-go when he untangles the middling mystery of a broken vehicle with his simple, basic yet effective method of listening. I knew right away that I was in for an enjoyable ride.

This is an intelligent book with a common, sincere central character. He is not the only intelligent being around - each supporting character is important and equally worthy. I loved Rabbi Small's bantering with Chief Lanigan on topics both related and unrelated to the mystery. The later, equally smart, is not there just to hear the detective unravel the mystery towards the end. He is involved too. In that manner, this book is special.

I haven't been this engaged while reading a book, or to find what happens next since a long time now. And I don't remember the last time when I rushed to pick the second book in the series this soon. I think it was when I read Christie for the first time.

I would recommend this to anyone interested in a light, cosy mystery and is ok to not be held up in the cleverness of the plot or presentation. The simplicity, then, will win you over.

★★★★

As I read this post that I wrote exactly 12 years back, I wish I could be more like that guy. He didn't care about how random the thought was. He was fearless. He may not make sense always, but he never let that hold him back. He didn't worry about what the reader might think about him. The thoughts and the writing sounds so immature, but am sure today I can write about the same idea a lot more cleanly. But then why don't I word such thoughts?

Well, I am no longer him. I wish I could be. I guess growing up has made me rigid and a lot more fearful.

The online Apple Store is finally launching in India in a week. I need to be fast and block all my credit cards. I have heard many stories of how Apple makes the buying experience so simple that most buys are instinctive. And with current times of lockdown, my mind is full of abrupt instincts.

On a serious note, am really looking forward to the availability of trade-in, AppleCare+ and Apple support. Of course, I am sure the cost won't be too low for any of that. A cursory look at the available payment options makes you realize that Apple is finally taking the Indian market seriously. I wish that Apple rolls out Apple Pay that's customized for India soon.

One of my senior colleagues delivered a timely reminder of one truth -- we don't take any good or bad decision. Because no decision is good or bad until we get to the result that decision leads to. And given the fact that no one sensible can predict the future, you can only judge a decision in retrospect. So don't get paralyzed. Just take the decision.

Small Town Diaries – Waltz of the Rain

I felt very close to the rain today. I don't like to get drenched in a downpour. Or to get damp in a drizzle. As a child, I used to sit at the edge of the veranda and watch the rain play its games. I did that again today after a long, long time.

The clouds gave way to a slight drizzle and eventually burst into an angry downpour. I slumped into the swing chair in the veranda and grinned as the wind lead the stream of raindrops as part of their lovely waltz. I instinctively stretched out my leg to the rain in the hope that nature's playfulness on show rubbed onto me.

It did; I felt calm, devoid of the stress that I had become so habitual to recently. I experienced a general sense of clarity within, but I wasn't thinking about anything specific. A numbness of mind that moves you meaningfully? I wish I could better word this paradox.

My recent lifestyle of the bustling metropolis has made me ignorant. When it rained, I hid behind glass with the raindrops furiously colliding against it. But then they dejectedly glided down. Not today. I let them touch me, heal me today.

When I began the little side project about ten weeks back, I hadn't set any specific expectations from it. Or from myself. I had an itch, an idea for sharing my interest in everything about writing with other folks who share my passion. I wanted to explore the newsletter as a medium to reach out to other people. It was only natural to bring them together.

I had no idea at that time that more than 2 months down, I would still be pumped to word each issue with care every week.

At the risk of getting cheesy about a random number, the 10th issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard newsletter needed a special mention. I paused before publishing the issue in haste in the last week. I hadn't got enough time to work on it. I wasn't happy with what I reviewed as I about to schedule it. So I skipped sharing any issue in the last week. I took the time again and reworded the whole issue. And it is out today.

It features some insightful essays that attempt to decipher and explain the past, present and the future of the complex obscurity that is language. I enjoyed reading each one of them; they made me appreciate the intricacies of human communication. It made me wonder that maybe the languages evolved because we human beings are an intelligent species. However, possibly we evolved into an intelligent species because we had the backing of complex languages. Maybe both.

Anyway, do give it a read online; this one is a special one for me. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends. And any which way, I would love to hear from you.

I am planning to rework the structure of the newsletter a bit without losing on the core idea. I will share more details as they crystallize in my mind. If you think any aspect is just not working, do let me know. It would help me make some easy decisions.

The Tangle of Language System

The living language is like a cowpath: it is the creation of the cows themselves, who, having created it, follow it or depart from it according to their whims or their needs. From daily use, the path undergoes change. A cow is under no obligation to stay – E. B. White

I never attested to the belief that language originated abruptly; or that the complex formation of a group of characters was planted into existence. It had to have evolved gradually, had to have become simpler, yet complicated at the same time as it got used broadly. As Ralph Waldo Emerson had aptly put it, “language is a city, to the building of which every human being brought a stone”. This is true not just for English, but for every other language in use today.

And yet, the exact origins of language as a notion are yet unknown. This issue features some insightful essays that attempt to decipher and explain the past, present and the future of this complex obscurity.

Theories of the Origin and Evolution of Human Language →

As to the origin of the term ‘language’, all we have are theories about the emergence and development of language in human societies. There are of course attempts from linguists to explain how humans planned and worked this fascinating system out. Though Richard Nordquist from ThoughtCo. presents the theories from each of the viewpoints, the exact proofs, unlike the origins of writing, are yet to be found.

Today, opinion on the matter of language origins is still deeply divided. On the one hand, there are those who feel that language is so complex, and so deeply ingrained in the human condition, that it must have evolved slowly over immense periods of time. Indeed, some believe that its roots go all the way back to Homo habilis, a tiny-brained hominid that lived in Africa not far short of two million years ago. On the other, there are those like [Robert] Berwick and [Noam] Chomsky who believe that humans acquired language quite recently, in an abrupt event. Nobody is in the middle on this one, except to the extent that different extinct hominid species are seen as the inaugurators of language’s slow evolutionary trajectory.

Who decides what words mean →

As fascinating as the history of the language is, the concept itself is no less bewildering. There is no designated body controlling any aspect of the numerous languages that are spoken today. The rules keep changing, the meanings keep evolving. Did you know that “unfathom” was only recently added to the Oxford English Dictionary, and it means exactly what “fathom” does? It’s unfathomable how we humans communicate with one another, and yet unfathom the innate complexities of this self-regulating system.

Language is a system. Sounds, words and grammar do not exist in isolation: each of these three levels of language constitutes a system in itself. And, extraordinarily, these systems change as systems. If one change threatens disruption, another change compensates, so that the new system, though different from the old, is still an efficient, expressive and useful whole.
Begin with sounds. Every language has a characteristic inventory of contrasting sounds, called phonemes. Beet and bit have different vowels; these are two phonemes in English. Italian has only one, which is why Italians tend to make homophones of sheet and shit.

The World's Most Efficient Languages →

As English became the widely accepted official language of the nations across the world, the inefficiencies of this “global” language came to the fore. The more it adapted and relaxed the rules of the usage and the semantics, it risked losing the chance to become native for any community. “Just as fish presumably don’t know they’re wet, many English speakers don’t know that the way their language works is just one of endless ways it could have come out”. That’s how this wonderful essay at The Atlantic begins as it contrasts English’s efficiency, or the lack thereof, against a few native languages.

Languages are strikingly different in the level of detail they require a speaker to provide in order to put a sentence together. In English, for example, here’s a simple sentence that comes to my mind for rather specific reasons related to having small children: “The father said ‘Come here!’” This statement specifies that there is a father, that he conducted the action of speaking in the past, and that he indicated the child should approach him at the location “here.” What else would a language need to do? Well, for a German speaker, more. In “Der Vater sagte ‘Komm her!’”, although it just seems like a variation on the English sentence, more is happening.
The Origins and Evolution of Language | Michael Corballis | TEDxAuckland

I recently read a wonderful short story “Summer Night” from Joanna published as part of Craft Magazine and, right away, I wanted to read a lot more from her. This one is such a brilliantly narrated mystery. You know right from the beginning that something is off with the characters and the environment, and yet you continue to read along. The opening itself reveals so much, yet keeps everything concealed – a story that “announces their secret from the beginning yet still seem to unfold surprisingly”. Joanna manages to write the story that she sought after.

If you ever need a clean, distraction-free interface online, when your editor of choice on your system is no longer available with you, you can access the online editor of Calmly Writer. All it provides is a blank slate with a blinking cursor, hiding away a few settings it has as you begin writing. However, if customization interests you, it also provides “focus mode”, “dark mode”, formatting, backup, export options and a lot more to get the editor to your liking.

One Final Inspiration

Postscript

Have any recommendations or feedback for me? I’d love to hear from you. Just hit reply, or you can even email me.

Thank you for reading and sharing.

-Amit

Small Town Diaries - Shopping

I went casual shopping today. I didn't dress up as I would normally do whenever I go out in my hometown. How I look as I go outside does not matter to me much these days. Anyway, all I had to shop for was some groceries and a few ointments.

The way I looked today was fine for the larger town I have settled in. Rather the shabbier I dress up, greater the respect I gain from a store owner. Or so I believe. This theory fails royally in my comparatively smaller hometown.

As expected, I was consciously ignored by the store owners and the attendants. I, then, asked for a specific item, a Himalaya - a well-known Indian brand - face cream. I returned the Himalaya face gel asking for the cream variant. And it is then that they called me "sir". 

This incident repeated itself at another store. My shabby attire made everyone attending in the store to ignore me. I then asked for a lip balm of from Nivea. I returned the strawberry flavoured one he hesitantly handed me and asked for a variant that's especially for men. It is then that they called me "sir".

I have realized over the years (and from the sheer amount of effort my dad puts in dressing up just to go out of the main door) that it matters here how you present yourself outside - especially in shops as a customer. However, if a shabby looking attire makes the store owners and attendants ignore you, the specificity of your wants makes you special.

Ever since I travelled back to my hometown, I have not been able to keep up with my routine. I’m not sure of the reasons, but things have been tricky.

One reason I believe is my mindset. For years now, I have been travelling to this place, to my other home, only on vacations. I would take long leaves, be off work and spend some relaxed time in the city where I’ve spent the majority of my early years. I feel I’ve grown accustomed to the air here and now I associate it with relaxation. Hence it has been extremely difficult to do anything else.

I’ve been sleeping a lot more. I’ve been eating a lot more. I’ve been slacking a lot more. I can do my office work, that doesn’t seem to be affected. But every other routine task is. I was waiting for things to naturally get back to normal. 2 weeks in and I don’t think there’s any chance of that happening.

So I am forcing myself now to get back into the routine. Time to bring the diaries, the journals back. Get the diet, the focus apps out. Reset those snoozed alarms again. Close eyes for those mindful 2 minutes. Stare regularly at the blinking cursor.

I recently took a big decision to travel across the state and temporarily settle down into my hometown. Closer to my family and friends. I'm anyway working from home. So it doesn't matter how far away from the office I actually am. It wasn't an easy decision, but a strong desire to break the monotonous routine made it a lot clear. So over the weekend, I and my close family travelled and have begun to settle into a new place.

Consequently, I could hardly find time for everything that was routine for me. One of them is the weekly issue of my newsletter. With just a couple of days in hand, the self-doubt had started clouding my mind, making me question whether I'm on the right track. Should I continue to spend time on publishing the weekly issues? Would I have enough time to curate each issue to make it interesting? Am I failing at another side project? A timely comment from a reader cleared the doubts. And it also gave me the topic for the next issue; I cleaned the slate and started curating it afresh.

In this week's issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard, I feature the essays that, in no way, preach how the fear of failure can be, should be overcome. Rather they attempt to persuade that it is all fine to fail. I needed the nudge myself. Each of these essays lent that to me.

Do give it a read online. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends.

PS: The issue also has a glaring mistake -- so fitting to let the first one (that I know of) slip through in an issue about failing.

Failing is Easy. Do It Well.

Failures, repeated failures, are finger posts on the road to achievement. One fails forward toward success. — C. S. Lewis

We are surrounded by opportunities to fail at. We judge ourselves when we can’t meet societal expectations. Furthermore, we blame ourselves when we don’t fulfil our high aspirations. For creatives, the “fear of failure” is numbing - every such mind is then inundated with suggestions to overcome this fear. Ironically, the suggestions come from the same society whose unreasonable expectations label these minds as “failures”.

In this issue, I feature the essays that, in no way, preach how such fears can be, should be overcome. Rather, they attempt to persuade that it is all fine to fail.

Falling short: seven writers reflect on failure →

“Diana Athill, Margaret Atwood, Julian Barnes, Anne Enright, Howard Jacobson, Will Self and Lionel Shriver reflect on their disappointments in life, love and work”. It is a brilliant read for when the trying times drag you, your morale down. Everyone fails. Especially those who are known for their successes. I find the below passage from Anne Enright enlightening.

I have no problem with failure - it is success that makes me sad. Failure is easy. I do it every day, I have been doing it for years. I have thrown out more sentences than I ever kept, I have dumped months of work, I have wasted whole years writing the wrong things for the wrong people. Even when I am pointed the right way and productive and finally published, I am not satisfied by the results. This is not an affectation, failure is what writers do. It is built in.

Fail better →

“What makes a good writer? Is writing an expression of self, or, as TS Eliot argued, ‘an escape from personality’? Do novelists have a duty? Do readers? Why are there so few truly great novels? Zadie Smith writes about literature’s legacy of honourable failure.”

Map of disappointments - Nabokov would call that a good title for a bad novel. It strikes me as a suitable guide to the land where writers live, a country I imagine as mostly beach, with hopeful writers standing on the shoreline while their perfect novels pile up, over on the opposite coast, out of reach. Thrusting out of the shoreline are hundreds of piers, or “disappointed bridges”, as Joyce called them. Most writers, most of the time, get wet. Why they get wet is of little interest to critics or readers, who can only judge the soggy novel in front of them. But for the people who write novels, what it takes to walk the pier and get to the other side is, to say the least, a matter of some importance.

Write Till You Drop →

For a writer, every rejection, every failure is an opportunity to stop writing? Why should I write when no one wants to read what I write? And what should I write about if anything that I write about doesn’t interest anyone? The doubts are genuine, but to stop after such doubts cloud your mind is to be brutal on the creative mind. Annie Dillard lays out many ways that writers can trudge along through the difficult phases of self-scrutiny.

One of the few things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.

Author of a published novel, Andrea often writes short essays and stories. Carve Magazine had published one of her short stories, Kudzu as part of their Fall 2015 issue. Andrea magnificently narrates this layered story of an ageing lady and her two relationships – one that’s blooming and another that’s lost. The Kudzu fields surrounding the town plays a role that’s a lot more significant than being just a backdrop.

When the regular music distracts you while you write, the ambient noise of just a café does not work, Noisli can help. A “digital place for focus” as the team behind describes the service, it allows you to mix and match various sounds to get that perfect environment. You can select the ambient sounds of rain, thunder, fire, forest and many others. It also provides a curated playlist of such sound mixes.

One Final Inspiration

Postscript

Have any recommendations or feedback for me? I’d love to hear from you. Just hit reply, or you can even email me.

Thank you for reading and sharing.

-Amit

Another issue of Slanting Nib & A Keyboard newsletter is out today. It features a few essays from the masters who have, over the years, learned to command the art by confronting each of the factors that drive every writer or a creative mind to satisfaction - inspiration, focus and craft.

I had to delay this issue by an hour as I could not complete my final review in time. It was a race against meeting the deadline and the last-minute call from work made it all the more difficult. I usually find the links that I want to feature way ahead of time. However, I carefully include the comments later to be sure about why I'm including the link as part of the issue. I had to rush through the commentary part today. So, if you find the description slightly incoherent, my planning-gone-wrong is to blame - a learning experience to not trudge too close to the deadline.

Do give it a read online. If what you read interests you, please subscribe. If you are already subscribed and have been enjoying the issues, I will appreciate if you forward them to your friends.

Inspiration, Focus and Craft

Writing is a difficult trade which must be learned slowly by reading great authors; by trying at the outset to imitate them; by daring then to be original and by destroying one’s first productions. – André Maurois

A writer is driven to satisfaction by three key factors. The first is an inspiration to think of a way to put his or her thoughts, the ideas, into words. Another factor is the focus to sit down staring at the blinking cursor without getting lured by the myriads of easily accessible distractions. And the final one is the craft that the writer brings to the table, one that he or she horns and perfects over the year.

This issue features a few essays from the masters who have, over the years, learned to command the art by confronting each of these factors. Let’s get straight to the recommendations.

Where do you get your ideas? →

Neil Gaiman answers the question that each published author gets asked a lot – “where do you get the idea from”. And apparently “out of my head” is not an acceptable answer for most.

The ideas aren’t the hard bit. They’re a small component of the whole. Creating believable people who do more or less what you tell them to is much harder. And hardest by far is the process of simply sitting down and putting one word after another to construct whatever it is you’re trying to build: making it interesting, making it new.
But still, it’s the question people want to know. In my case, they also want to know if I get them from my dreams. And I don’t give straight answers. Until recently.

Why Writers Are the Worst Procrastinators →

Everybody is a procrastinator, or most have been some time in their life. Megan Mcardle argues writers are a special kind; for them, being a procrastinator is “a peculiarly common occupational hazard”. Megan goes on to lay out why she is convinced that the writers are the worst. I always believed that the fear of doing something badly, not perfectly, is a prime driver for procrastination. But if the researchers are to be believed, the fear of doing nothing trumps the ills that perfectionism induces.

I once asked a talented and fairly famous colleague how he managed to regularly produce such highly regarded 8,000 word features. “Well,” he said, “first, I put it off for two or three weeks. Then I sit down to write. That’s when I get up and go clean the garage. After that, I go upstairs, and then I come back downstairs and complain to my wife for a couple of hours. Finally, but only after a couple more days have passed and I’m really freaking out about missing my deadline, I ultimately sit down and write.
Over the years, I developed a theory about why writers are such procrastinators: We were too good in English class. This sounds crazy, but hear me out.

Everything You Need to Know About Writing Successfully →

In this short essay, Stephen King delivers advice for any writer who wants to be successful at writing good fiction. King does that in his signature style – clear and direct.

I know it sounds like an ad for some sleazy writers’ school, but I really am going to tell you everything you need to pursue a successful and financially rewarding career writing fiction, and I really am going to do it in ten minutes, which is exactly how long it took me to learn. It will actually take you twenty minutes or so to read this essay, however, because I have to tell you a story, and then I have to write a second introduction. But these, I argue, should not count in the ten minutes.

“Then there was the romance between the carton of smoothie and me.” Neil begins his flash fiction “Ferris Wheel” with this amusing lead. He goes on to narrate his unique romance with the “box of the carton”. He regularly writes flash fiction, with each having a unique premise and wonderful narration. Another of flash fiction Two Earthlings tells a story of the visit of two aliens and their encounter with the dwellers of our planet - one that makes them wonder if the earthlings were “sentient or hostile or what”. Give all of Neil’s published work a read.

“Forest is an app helping you stay away from your smartphone and stay focused on your work.” It is a unique take on the timer app, where you plant a tree as you lock your phone down. If you want to quit the app, your tree will die. The belief is that the guilt acts as a deterrent to not access the phone until your focused session is done. The team behind the app also “partners with a real-tree-planting organization, Trees for the Future, to plant real trees on Earth”. A free app that, for sure, is worth a try.

One Final Inspiration

Postscript

Have any recommendations or feedback for me? I’d love to hear from you. Just hit reply, or you can even email me.

Thank you for reading and sharing.

-Amit