Poornima Manco

Author

Parvathy's Well & other stories

Writer’s Block

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There it is. I’ve come up against it once more. This feeling of ennui, a sense of “is any of it worth it”, questions like “who wants to read me anyway?” and there you have it. Writer’s Block. The inability to proceed with any kind of worthwhile writing.

You could ask me “you are writing this blog, aren’t you?” I would have to answer honestly and say yes. Equally honestly, I’d have to own up and say that this isn’t my true métier. Blogging, to me, is like having a conversation with my readers. It’s sometimes topical, sometimes thought provoking and nearly always stream of consciousness. It’s also fairly easy. I have a thought and I try and pin it down on screen.

Writing fiction is a whole other ball game. To write the stories I write, I have to reach inside of me and pull my innards out. As you can imagine, that is not an easy process.

So, why this debilitating pause in the proceedings?

I have ascribed various reasons to it. Firstly, it’s been an unusually hectic time. Christmas, New Year, work, vacations and multiple social do’s. Secondly, I’ve got the dreaded flu, so naturally, I am unable to concentrate with the fever, hacking and general listlessness. But really, underneath it all, lies another, more corrosive thought. The joy has gone out of my writing.

Why would such a thing happen? For an inveterate story teller, there is no greater pleasure than spinning a yarn that is swallowed whole by avid readers. Yet, doubts about marketability, about readership, about my own abilities, are swamping whatever amount of happiness I derived from my writing.

The easy thing to do would be to carry on writing as I did before. For myself. For my need to tell the stories that I needed to. Yet, having become aware that there is another side to this ‘business’ of writing, I am unable to ignore it altogether. Every word has to be weighed, every outcome analysed and suddenly, I feel I am back to studying accountancy and my balance sheet is refusing to balance.

It is said that true writers show up to the table and write. If that is the case, then I am a fraudulent one because the mere act of showing up at the table exhausts me.

Will I be able to punch a hole through that block? Only time will tell.

 

7000 or 70,000?

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I was waiting in the Doctor’s surgery for my name to be called out and idly leafing through a glossy magazine when I chanced upon an article. It showed a bestselling author in her country pile with her husband and 2.5 children. More power to her, I thought! Then I read a paragraph in the article that said that at the start of her writing career, her agent had asked her a very pertinent question: Do you want to be the kind of writer who sells 7000 books or 70,000 books? Her answer was the latter, of course! She then set about selling millions of copies of her books that were lapped up by avid readers and has obviously made a neat little living out of it.

Now, I have nothing against popular, bestselling novelists as two of my favourites Stephen King and JK Rowling belong on that list. However, my issue is with those who ‘tailor’ their writing to fit in with popular demand. For instance, when the 50 shades phenomenon happened, every second writer tried producing a bonkbuster to jump on the bandwagon of S&M love stories. Or, when the YA genre took off, there were so many copycat writers trying to tap into teenage angst that the market was saturated.

Any writer worth his/her salt knows that the most important thing in writing is honesty. Whether you write about ‘what you know’ or whether you create a completely fantastical world out of your imagination, it is important to have a voice and style that is entirely your own. Market trends should dictate fashion not authorship.

Which is why a question like the above bothers me. Yes, I understand that publishing houses need to make money, as do agents. But an agenda that hinges on book sales puts an unnecessary onus on creativity to be perforce marketable and consumer orientated.

On the flip side of the argument is the fact that bestselling authors in the times of yore wrote what their audiences wanted to read. A Shakespeare enjoyed royal patronage because his writing entertained, amused, saddened and delivered. A Charles Dickens serialised his novels so that he could earn good money and keep his audiences guessing from one issue to another. Were these writers commercial? Yes, they were. Were they successful? Wildly so. Hence, creativity and crass commercialism aren’t mutually exclusive. However, trying to make a square peg fit into a round hole purely on market dictates is a terrible injustice.

I have been asked why I chose to go down the route of Indie publishing? Why, I didn’t go knocking on doors, soliciting agents and publishers for my writing? Here’s the thing- I didn’t want someone else telling me your stories are too dark, change the characters’ unpronounceable names, short stories don’t sell, we aren’t digging your style etc etc. Luckily for me, I don’t need to make money out of my writing. I just need to express my tales, in my own way, in my own voice and in my own style.

There are an increasing number of authorpreneurs- (authors + entrepreneurs) who are thinking along the same lines. Creative people, choosing to express themselves, free from the constraints of what may or may not sell. Of course, like anything new, one has to work hard at separating the wheat from the chaff. However, by and large, I have come across some amazing writing from other fellow Indie writers who are going it alone, without the support or the limitations of the traditional publishing format.

So, the question that begs answering is what would I rather be doing? Selling 7000 or 70,000 copies of my book? Of course I’d rather it was the latter. But not for the reason you’re thinking. I don’t care to make millions out of my writing. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be giving it away for free on my blog. What I, or any writer wants, is to reach out to people. To hear that yes, my writing struck a chord, that my writing transported someone to a different place and time, that my writing helped them inhabit another body, just for a short while. Everything that good writing should and must do.

To tell you the truth, if that means selling only 700 copies or touching only 70 souls, then those numbers suit me fine too.

 

Sweat

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‘Horses sweat, gentlemen perspire and ladies glow’. An old quote that wandered into my mind quite suddenly today. You see, I had an interesting and rather illuminating conversation with a colleague yesterday. He had just finished reading my book of short stories, and I asked him how he liked it. He chuckled and said something that made me stop short, mentally flip the pages of my book and begrudgingly, but laughingly agree with him. More on that in a minute.

When you are an unknown writer, trying to find a foothold in publishing, you lap up any kind of feedback. Most of that comes from your immediate circle of your friends and family, or perhaps the slightly wider circle of your work colleagues or distant acquaintances who have been kind enough to buy your book. I have to say, by and large, most people have been very charitable in the sort of feedback they’ve given me. Amongst the criticisms I have encountered (all true by the way) was the fact that I used language and references that were not immediately transparent to the reader. For instance, how many non Indians would know what Rooh Afza is? How many outside of Delhi would know where Khan Market is? Some of my readers had to google certain terms or words. So, maybe, the next book should have a glossary of terms? Maybe. Or maybe not.

I remember reading a book where half the page contained the story, the other half explanations of the words contained in the story. I found that terribly distracting. So, perhaps, I’ll just carry on being a pretentious (and rather lazy) writer and hope that the context will explain the content.

The second more valid criticism that came my way was that there was no central theme binding my stories together. Yes, the location is India. The stories are all quite dark. There are a few deaths and other horrific stuff, but aside of all that-  what is the leitmotif of the tales?

Admittedly, I hadn’t thought this one out. Remember, this was my taster book. The one I published before I published THE ONE. Rather like the first fling before your proper boyfriend. Except that this fling’s taken on a life of it’s own.

I digress.

I wasn’t really thinking themes when I put this book together. For me, it was more of a journey. A journey to India through my characters, and their distinct personalities and situations. So, when this was pointed out to me I made a mental note that my next book would definitely contain a thread that runs through all the stories. (Yes, it is another book of short stories, and yes, I am working on it right now).

Back to my colleague then.

What was this observation of his that had me chortling? He simply said, “You do rather have an obsession with sweat, don’t you? All your characters sweat, and you describe it in such vivid detail.”

There you go. Theme found and nailed. Sweat is the central theme of my book. Never let it be said that my debut collection had no cohesive or unifying idea. All my characters sweat, whether gently or vigorously, whether literally or metaphorically.

So, if you like sweaty stories, look for ‘Parvathy’s Well & other stories‘ on Amazon worldwide. Any other incisive observations you might have post reading will be welcomed with relish!

 

Imposter syndrome

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Lately there’s been a lot of  “Who, me?” going on in my mind. It has not even been an entire month since I published my book, and the response has been very positive. Much more so than I expected. Particularly as this book was only a proverbial dipping of my toe into publishing waters.

Consequently I have had people asking for the book to be autographed, been called an ‘author’ on a public platform, been asked to hold a book signing event, to donate copies of my books for a charitable cause, to attend a book club meeting to speak about my book, and also an invitation to enter it into an International Book awards competition.

Who, me?????

Now, don’t get me wrong; I have semi-enjoyed all the attention. Secretly, however, I have been unable to shake off the feeling that I am not deserving of it. After all, this slim volume of six short stories is no ‘War and Peace’. Nor is it Shakespeare. A lot of these stories are from very early on in my writing journey, and I know that I have come a fair way since then.

Therefore, I have to wonder if this is some kind of a Tsunami of goodwill that I am witnessing. Colleagues, friends and acquaintances that like me and therefore like my book?

Indie publishing is not an easy task to undertake. It is terribly labour intensive, and for a perfectionist like myself, it means many many sleepless nights. The worst part however, is the marketing side of things. Writers are by nature fairly reclusive people. Even though my friends can vouch for my gregarious and sociable side, they very rarely see the side that just wants to hole up and read or write. So, to actively go out there and promote and advertise my work, has been a very distasteful task.

When the fruits of that labour have started to come in, why am I so meh about it?

I can only put my apathetic response down to the Imposter Syndrome. Defined as a concept describing individuals who are marked by an inability to internalise their accomplishments, and a persistent fear of being exposed as a ‘fraud’.

Yes, me.

The stories are good. I know that. I also know that they are not brilliant. I am not there yet. Hence, all this attention seems overblown and undeserving. That’s the predominant thought in my mind.

On the flip side, I know that this momentum can’t and won’t last. So, why not enjoy it while it does? What’s holding me back?

I dedicated this book to my mother who was my biggest critic and my staunchest advocate while she lived. I often wonder what she would have said, and invariably, this is what I come up with:

Bouquets and Brickbats are par for the course. If you love something, keep on doing it. Give it your best, have no regrets and keep on moving forward, not looking back.

Thank you mummy. That’s exactly what I will do.