“I realized that a pen in my hand sometimes serves me better than the tongue in my mouth.” — Me, Myself & I
When I was approximately three feet off the ground, I recall that I loved to flip through pages and inhale the musty aroma of disused books. It always left me in awe- how words could resonate so loudly in one’s head without even being physically spoken. There was something magical about the fluidity of the sentences, how one beautiful thought emerged from another, how people- though unreal- could be loved and hated. There was also this visualization thing. Books created the scenario in my head and the story would play out like I was in a theatre and the projector was my mind.
Well, that was it about reading. I spent an entire summer once reading around five-score books that spanned various genres. The power of the written word became more lucid to me with each page I turned. Then, one day I decided: I am going to be a writer.
It started off with me conjuring up a plot and characters. Wording the story was duck soup and my twelve-year-old mind considered it fine for a chapter to comprise of a meager 500 words. Later, when I re-read the story, I would go on to commend my efforts, but I knew that my penmanship was only in its embryonic stages.
Books like the Hush, Hush saga (Becca Fitzpatrick) and the Blue is for Nightmares series (Laurie Faria Stolarz) crossed my eyes and I devoted myself to reading these and oodles more just to delve into the world of fiction. But I was still discontented, because I wanted to be a part of a world of fictional characters that I could call my own.
After reading A Certain Slant of Light by Laura Whitcomb, I realized that imagination had its limits beyond the dome of the firmament.
Like an ardent devotee of art, I sat myself down, pen in hand and began crafting a dark fantasy story about a clan of vampires. It was undoubtedly stereotypical, but I could at least clap myself on the back for trying to be productive after letting my creativity hibernate for what seemed like a whole era. My endeavor was to hatch a novel (40,000 words), but I wound up with 28,000 give or take.
But that was all I needed to begin a wonderful journey of creativity and exploration of untrodden territory in my mind. Writing books and short stories has since become more than just a divertissement. It has evolved into a passion. Time saw my skills hone just as it sees the world go from glory to glory.
According to me, there is nothing more fulfilling than knowing you can touch someone with written, unspoken words.