Day 1 to Book 1 @daystobook - Tumblr Blog

There is a very special kind of existential dread that comes with realizing that the reason so many workplaces are pushing so hard for (gen)AI bullshit and implementing it everywhere and holding courses on how to use Copilot "for productivity" is that... they all have some kind of contract with Microsoft wherein Microsoft is funding something and they need the money or partnership or whathaveyou.

This brought to you by: I just had to translate a wholeass training on applications of AI and how to use Copilot for a collective of nonprofits that claim to want to help underserved populations/reach the last mile to bring digital equality under a "do no harm" and "break no laws" format... but one of their partners helping with digital development and equality is Microsoft. Who. You know. Has been shoving Copilot in all of our faces because they invested stupid money on it and it turns out it has no use and has the capability to be exploited to drain your bank account and install spyware and malware on your computer (etc.). And is spyware itself.

So they have to do the training or probably lose a big partner.

Hell world, hell world, hell world.

Waiting for Sonny and Sonia

I recently visited my native village in the plains of Himachal Pradesh, India. Yes Himachal Pradesh has scorching plains too, and not just the picturesque mountains. I spent some of my formative years here—from first to fifth grade.

I have many fond memories from this place, a lot because I had my little brother with me, a lot because of the vagaries and playfulness of the child I was.

After staying here after all these years, after more than a couple of decades, I met with some relatives and old family friends, and met with my parents, unspokenly estranged with each other in convoluted and seemingly(I still hope and pray though that it is not) permanent ways—meeting with who they are, at every stage of their life has been different, especially around the demarcation of working years and retirement.

But somehow, here, now at the culmination of my father retired, and having a lot of time to think about what he think about things, and having the time to say it to people, to me; and my mother at the cusp of constant fears, primarily about her relationship with father constant breaking, now nearing a point where she says she loves him still, but can't stay with him because of the irrevocable and unresolved conflicts and damages of the past. The fear of where she will go, who will keep her, after she retires. Fears about how the society around talks behind their backs, about their separation, about them. The loneliness both of them feel.

Here—in this world, when I don't know what I am doing, but trying really hard to figure it out. Here, where once my father said if I didn't want to get married I ought not to, and yet getting to know now that that opinion has changed, because? Of this deeply patriarchal, hubristic, self proclaimed political predictor of a man called Ankit Shah, that he watches and listens to online. He doesn't enforce anything on me, he just lets me know what he thinks and keeps it at that, which I am thankful for. My parents have given me a lot of freedom, and I wouldn't know how I would have become who I am, and what I am interested in, if it wasn't for it. But I feel the slaps of having wasted away a lot of time, of that freedom.

In the midst of this shaky ground, I think back to the time I met with Kiran Desai at Bengaluru Literature Festival, and the couple of minutes we shared about talking about loneliness. I often feel loneliness, but I feel so happy in it in. It's tough in a lot of ways too, a lot times, but I feel so happy in it, away from everybody else. And at the same time, I feel conflicted, of not having seen the world, of not having known much or enough, done enough.

For now I just wait to know about the Loneliness of Sonny and Sonia, Kiran Desai's new novel in a couple of decades, which coincides starkly with me, and all of this.

#Kiran Desai #novel #loneliness #writing #reading #books

Rejections Galore, and the Constant Shuffle of Writing With Pen and Typing

I've started keeping a rejection pile on logseq (it's terrible that there's no sync out of the box, I use it because it's free and open source).

I need more items on the #rejectionpile page.

I applied for Emerging Writers Residency, and didn't get it. When I checked out the writing portfolio of the 5 people [1, 2, 3, 4, 5] who got selected, I realised that there's a ton of work I need to do to be able to build a portfolio. I was awed by Amita Basu's. I guess a published story, anywhere, is a currency, that I need to amass.

To be able to find any way to come closer to the writers, and the publishing industry, I applied for a job at the writing retreat. I got a callback, and I was told that I would be called again by the co-founder of the retreat, but I haven't received it, it's been a couple of days.

I guess the only thing I can do is to try to keep writing. Writing feels like a chore, especially when I try too hard to try to chalk out the next word, or plot. Which is to say I don't have many pages of a blabber of words written which go nowhere. I need more words that go nowhere, so that I can hit the one path that feels right.

This is the reason why I associate a constant rush of inspiration of words, vomit of words if you will, or poop, to a miracle, a something that I do not want to be disturbed out of, when maybe perhaps, it is only just a coincidence of a bunch of right words coming in, and I being present to catch them in non-stop way. To not stop to read the last sentence, or to see if that last paragraph makes sense. To just write without judgement, without critical thinking. Like a baby rushes crayons on the page feeling delighted.

What I am trying to say, to put it tersely for my future self to read again

Please don't read what you've written, write the next line, whatever it is, just write it, because your work is to do that, to do hit and trials, to even try rewriting the entire story with a different idea that you might(or might not) have had, or an idea which you'll find while trying writing it again, it is the words that count, no matter if meaningless, just write, like you are writing this.

#writing #rejection #rejectionpile #boox #boox note max #writing portfolio #reading #Youtube

okokpoems

A kitchen is extremely political

okokpoems

this felt like a cold glass of water after a long sunny sweaty day

okokpoems

I was sitting at 2am wondering why gratitude so often feels like fear and then ChatGPT told me something profound ….

okokpoems

Sometimes feeling old can feel like a lot of things

demonprincex

sometimes it feels like everyone else has so many more skills than me. they know how to knit. they know how to regrout tile. they know how to make lasagna noodles from scratch, play the piano, do a cartwheel, play chess, speak yiddish, build a fire, change a tire, fly fish, draw, sing, plant blueberries. they have an active interest in all of these hands-on practical hobbies. it feels as though all my life i have just been in a room, either reading or writing, and nothing else. and it never feels like there's enough time.

golem-aleichem

reposting gay words with op's permission bc i too don't even know how to say "i am a lesbian"

mortalityplays

The thing about writing advice is that most people who are in a position to give it don't really know how they do what they do.

It's like playing Hamlet: an actor can talk about the personal processes that help them to interrogate the text and get into the character's head, and they can talk about the experiences they've had that prepared them for the role, and they can talk about what they want their performance to convey and maybe even reflect on why they make certain choices. But they can't give you a ten step guide to playing Hamlet. It fundamentally doesn't work like that.

It can be frustrating. Sometimes the advice you get from authors you admire, authors whose work you relate to in an unspeakable way, is just not a good fit. It can be discouraging (why can't I see the world like they do? why can't I be up and awake and produce 2000 words before breakfast?) or it can even set you back (I mustn't use adjectives. I have to plan every page. I can't get started until I know the protagonist's grandmother's maiden name). You have to learn to see it as the individual talking to themselves, rationalising a largely automatic process in terms that can only ever correlate, never fully explain.

Only one piece of ageless advice has consistently held true for generations of good, bad and happily mediocre writers, probably since the dawn of society: steal time from your day job.

Have never felt as seen as in Henry's character.

#ve schwab #addie larue #reading #fantasy

taraljc

Frustrated, angry, horrified, and unsure of how to proceed after learning a favourite author is not who you think they were?

You are not without means to help! Fandom gave Neil Gaiman the celebrity that he then weaponised against vulnerable people. We gave it to him; we can help take it away.

THINGS WE CAN DO AS INDIVIDUALS

Repost articles and transcripts as they appear in the trades and the mainstream press, and tag them with the appropriate trigger warnings and content warnings.

Keep amplifying the voices of the survivors, and showing up with compassion and empathy and support for the untold numbers who have yet to come forward.

Keep talking about the allegations of abuse and sexual assault levelled at Neil Gaiman. Do not let it fade into the background, or be drowned out by vigorous promotion of his upcoming works. Boost the signal, particularly to raise awareness across fandoms so fans can do their best to protect themselves from potential abuse in the future.

Make donations to RAINN and The Survivors Trust, and find out what you can do on a local level to support survivors of sexual assault and abuse.

Do not tag fan works such as fanfic, fan art, quotes, gifsets, and meta discussions about Gaiman's work or live-action adaptations of Gaiman's work with #Neil Gaiman so that you are not doing the expensive PR team's work for them by helping to bury the story of Neil Gaiman's abuse of vulnerable women on social media.

Do not bully Neil Gaiman's peers in the industry, friends and family, or actors currently involved in live action adaptations of his work for not immediately making any kind of public statements.

Do not bully fellow fans. Everyone is working through their very complex feelings and relationships with both the text and the man at their own speed. Please give them the space to grieve that loss, but continue to center the stories of the survivors and express sympathy and empathy for all of the survivors who have yet to come forward.

As others have noted, The Tortoise Media Slow News podcast that initially broke the story is run by a group of well-respected journalists, and Ms Johnson is not a full-time member of the staff but was only given a shared byline on the story because one of the survivors contacted her privately which is what kicked off the year long investigation.

Filter out noise such as kink-shaming, anti-BDSM discourse, and other editorial comments and instead focus on the actual words of survivors recounting their experiences.

Remember that despite using the language of BDSM, what the survivors have recounted is in fact examples of coercive control and abuse cloaked in the language of kink. It's very important to note that BDSM nearly always includes extensive negotiation of consent to specific acts and partners check in with one another constantly, establish safe words, and engage in aftercare. That is absolutely not what was described by the survivors thus far.

Sexual assault is not about sex so much as it is about power. In every instance reported thus far, the common thread has been predatory behaviour toward vulnerable women. In more than one case, women who were employed in Neil Gaiman's households and were reliant on him for their housing and livelihood.

Do not guilt trip or shame people who are attempting to separate the art from the artist. allow people to love what they love about the novels, comics, and media adaptations, value the friendships that they have made because of them, and keep the joy that those projects brought them. Do not let Neil Gaiman's behaviour rob generations of fans of the stories that meant so much to them. he has already taken so much from so many; don't help him take more from yourself or others then he already has.

Do not invite him as a guest speaker to your events, a guest of honour at your conventions, or a guest lecturer at your institutions. without jeopardizing the financial future of your institution or theater, do not book speaking tours, book signings, launch parties, etc. as these events have proved to be a fertile hunting ground and provide ongoing income directly to Neil Gaiman.

Separate the Art from the Artist?

I didn't know about the allegations before a person commented on my previous post, requesting me to put a disclaimer and/or remove his name's tag. I did both. And then I listened to the 6 series podcast.

I was in the middle of Neil Gaiman's masterclass. I was taking notes, doing exercises, and just generally getting inspired from the way he said and shared things—in his polite euphonious British accent, innocent and honest sounding voice—the stories he told about his own writing journey.

I was heart broken, angry, but also compassionate in that of a blessing—that may he find the right ways to acknowledge, accept, reflect, self introspect, share—the things he might not have dealt with about himself in a long time, maybe ever. From the accounts and the intricacies of all of the cases where women came out and shared their horrific experiences, I can't begin to believe that this has actually happened. I am still shocked, more than I ever have. I have never had an influence as strong as his over me as an aspiring writer. My girlfriend and I met and bonded over the stories he wrote on our first date.

I spent the whole day listening to the podcast series, I needed to know for myself. At the end of the day when I was done listening, I just hovered around my girlfriend's work desk in utter gloom and dejection. She hugged me. Then I shared with her, in summary of what made me sad after she asked, and after I told her that I wouldn't want to tell her. She said that when she had come across the news, she'd deliberately not gone into the details to prevent this sadness.

She asked me how I was going to go through the Master Class and its exercises now. I told her that I didn't know, but when some time would have passed, I'd read him again, but without the starry eyed pedestalization or being a fan. I'd read him purely for the craft, and nothing else. For now, I would not be able to read him. So I've resumed reading other things.

I really wish that he—if not to the world, which would be a tragedy and a travesty, then at least to himself privately—accepts that it is not okay, in any realm, to take advantage of stardom to blind other people into assuring, assuming or deciding consent for them. And that if he would ever be unsure, and especially if he'd be sure, to learn to ask, before coercing in the shadow of assuming that there are common feelings emerging for all parties, irrespective of any mental health problem he might be a victim of.

Terry Pratchett and other fantasy writers it is now. Back to Addie Larue.

#neil gaimen allegations #neil gaiman

Day 6: Neil Gaiman Master Class, Dreyer's English, More Addie Larue, Advancing into the Story

Allegation/Trigger Warning: Neil has been accused by 5 women of sexual assault/rape.

The thing about writing early on—which I am at—is that it's too easy to give up. To become impatient and blurt, 'why is this not working?' leave it, and don't feel bad about it after a while—because there's nothing to feel bad about in the first place, nothing came of it so there's no accountability.

I was stuck with another story yesterday. Listening to VE Schwab's podcast with Cassandra Clare, when Cassandra said that she loves to run her stories by some of her close writer friends, and VE Schwab said something similar, I realised that as much as writing is a lonely occupation, it doesn't have to be. So I asked my friend Amrita a question, posed to answer as a character, and I got my unblocking. Thanks Amrita! I had been able to do something similar for her a few days back, it feels good to be of help.

I continued to write. Every bleh word after you realise this isn't working is a struggle. But I powered through and something I didn't know about the characters unfolded. I took VE Schwab's advice of going outside of the story and thinking about where I want it to go, and started creating a Miro board. Miro boards are nice! I didn't know about how effective they could be before Imagine 2200 folks created an interesting writing exercise for us on a zoom call before they started this year's edition of the writing competition.

At the same time, I also just kept pantsing. I was planning the story alongside of letting it unfold in parallel. Today in Neil Gaiman's masterclass chapter 4—Finding your Voice, I took away two things

Make mistakes.

Only way to make mistakes is to finish writing what I start.

You learn more by finishing a failure than by writing a success. And you definitely learn more by finishing a failure than you ever do by beginning something that's fantastic but stops. —Neil Gaiman, Masterclass, Chapter 4, Finding Your Voice

I haven't had finished failed stories. I don't have stories archived somewhere, which I know nobody will ever read. How will my voice ever develop, if I can't sustain copying others and ensuring an end, no matter how terrible. Listening to Neil, the bucket in which I put 'not good', or 'failed' writing has changed from useless to medals.

I also started reading Dreyer's English. Em dashes and commas, when used effectively can make a long winded thought sentence into something tangible. Dreyer's introduction was funny and full of easily understandable long sentences.

I'm not supposed to use

very

really

rather

quite

in fact

just

pretty

of course

actually

extremely

surely

for a week, as an exercise from first chapter of Dreyer's English. That was the whole chapter.

I also realised my one pastel highlighter is the last one standing, and I'll need to order more soon. I am going away from wax highlighters, at least for a bit, because of the ease of order, comfort, contrast, and aesthetic of pastel lightness of liquid highlighters.

There's an interesting exercise I'm going to try from the Neil's masterclass workbook:

Challenge yourself to write a short story in one sitting to fight fear of mistakes. You're not allowed to go away from the project until you have a completed draft. It can be any length, but tell a complete story that will satisfy a reader. Don't do too much editing while you write, let your ideas flow and then structure them once you've got everything on the page.

Hopefully in between the next couple of posts.

#writing #storytelling #addie larue #story writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers block #ve schwab #english #language #exercise

Day 5: VE Schwab Fanboying and That Sentence

Selected excerpts from a scene from The Invisible Life of Addie Larue. Context: the first time Henry and Addie really get to talk with each other.

Henry shifts in his seat. "What do you see," he says, "when you look at me?"

"I see a boy with dark hair and kind eyes and an open face." He frowns a little. "Is that all?" "Of course not," she says. "But I don't know you yet."

...

"I see someone who cares," she says slowly. "Perhaps too much. Who feels too much. I see someone lost, and hungry. The kind of person who feels like they're wasting away in a world full of food, because they can't decide what they want."

This line hit really hard. I sat where I was reading, book abandoned, and only this line plucked out, wondering, without a set feeling or timeline attached in relation to how the line is talking about me, in a daze, frightful. Another year has going to go past, and I would have nothing plausible to show for it.

I sent ONE flash fiction to ONE publication. I gave up submitting to a speculative fiction anthology by an Indian wing of a publishing house, because I didn't write anything. I didn't make anything with code, that could be used, even by me.

I feel lost yes, hungry too. But sometimes that hunger leads to tiredness and I give up. I had almost given up writing, because I'd have a very difficult time to balance it with anything else. If I'd read, I'd keep reading and feel anxious about not having learnt or done anything else. If I'd code, I'd constantly feel anxious that I'm no way closer to building anything. So I thought it'd be for good, if I just stopped writing. That way, giving my time to coding and learning, I'd at least have an assurance, that I'm making directed efforts.

But a lot of good things have happened this year. I completed a literature course online, which I enjoyed very much, even if it was frustrating at times—with some for-home readings. I got a certificate to show for it.

I open sourced a small plugin for MDX Editor. I went into a lot of rabbit holes learning about exciting things like local-first architectures. I learnt that I have to make notes for any knowledge I want to stick with me, and keep coming back to it. So I started taking a lot of notes in Logseq.

I learnt a lot about the web in general, special thanks to two online courses I bought and am still going through — CSS for JS Devs by Josh W Comeau, and Epic Web by Kent C Dodds.

I completed a couple of freelance projects, so I did earn a little bit this year, even if it's not sustaining and I used my savings to sustain this year. I learnt a lot tinkering with stuff.

I have become kinder to myself so that I can actually make efforts, instead of feeling anxious about what is not there yet. I've made it a rule to not judge first drafts. I have Jass to thank for this. Every time I've struggled to keep up, she's filled me with hope and replenished my will to keep going.

I finally am giving it a shot to make a web app to solve a real problem. The other day, over call, my mother asked what I was doing and I said that I was making an app to solve the bigger worry she has. I waited for her to ask, to build suspense, and when she did, I quoted her, trying to mimic her as I did

Kal Subha Kya Khaana Hai? (what do you want to have for breakfast tomorrow )

I met a lot of new kind, wonderful, hilarious people, thanks to Jass. I got to spend a lot of time with Jass, which I cherish everyday. My parents have—even with all the insecurities they feel towards us children, and themselves, as they get older—have supported non-stop in every way.

Building blocks have laid a foundation, I just have to keep going. I want to build a life on my own terms. I want to earn by building exceptional skills, and never depend on an external job to sustain myself. It takes time, I just have to keep showing up ever day. And I thank everything and will make all my efforts to make sure that it is never a corporate job office ever again.

To a productive, building blocks year, and to a more visibly seen one that's upcoming.

Happy festivals of light and love 🪔🌻☀️

PS:

I went into a rabbit hole of watching VE Schwab on Youtube. One thing that I could just sense from her upbringing and the way she's lived is—because of her loving and playing competitive sports, she's always up for a challenge. That energy is invigorating.

#ve schwab #storytelling #writing #thoughts #writing struggles #good year

typingwithmyhandstied

Me when a V.E. Schwab character exists: Now that's a character. That's a CHARACTER. THAT'S A CHARACTER.

daystobook

I'm reading Addie Larue and can't stop re reading every sentence, especially the ones building character and their feelings

Day 4: Time

Mum shouts from the living room as I roasted Tadka in the kitchen

Mum: What's the time? Me: I don't know Amma

And I realised what a privilege it was right at the time. I don't know if felt like a privilege. And I suddenly felt immense gratitude and I smiled. Then I thought I'd go and check what's the time, since she didn't check it and went back to watching TV. But I didn't. Another privilege? Or just laziness? Or am I reading too much into it.

I've started reading some code for open source rich text editors. Tumblr has a pretty neat, rich text editor, which feels gliding and wonderful. The font feels so clean and neat. It's called 'Favorit'. Anyway, since Tumblr is an Automattic company, I suspected they might be using Gutenberg text editor, and they are!

Some days I get too excited about the fact that I can write so easily on a keyboard, online, thanks to these massively complex rich text editor tools and integrations. I hope to make one of them someday, or contribute to one in a major way.

This is becoming a design and tech blog now. Better get back to writing haha. I'm submitting a short story this week. The last time I submitted something, it was…, oh God I can't even remember. Should do it, definitely.

#time #submission #short story #literature #rich text editor #wysiwyg

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