- My graphic skills are rock bottom. I am not good at taking pictures, or even selecting ‘good’ pictures. So the idea of having visually appealing graphics does not work at me. Maybe sometimes I ll throw in a shaky, blurry, under/overexposed image into my posts. People will look, cringe and never return.
- I am still more comfortable with pen and paper. When I write online, I lose my train of thought, and pretty soon, my interest.
- I am the Queen of Procrasti-Nation. Why do something now if it can be done sometime later? Or never. Everything else is always more important than the current task at hand. Even staring at the wall.
- I am easily discouraged. Getting no validation? You are probably not good enough, you should go kill yourself. Okay, at least you should stop trying so hard.
- I have got my feet in too many boats. I am a full time journalist, a part time theatre artist, a part time pursuer of a Master’s degree, a newbie blogger. Needless to say, I fail trying to keep up with most.
- I am shy. That means I can’t market myself. Or I have to run away and hide if too many people start reading my stuff.
- I am ruled by hormones. I have these mid month spurts of hormones that make me hyper motivated to go get everything out there. I make business models, I email people for interviews, I sign up for kickboxing classes. And a week later BAM! Bitch Aunt Flo hits, and I am down in the dumps telling myself that I cannot possibly spend my entire office shift sitting on the toilet seat.
- Why write about books when you can read them instead? Obviously right? I mean in the time I spent here, I could have read at least five more pages of my current read, which I have been struggling to finish for almost a month now.
- Social Media. Yes it sucks. I say that even as I write here. Because as soon as I am done publishing this I am going to be looking at other’s posts and sooner or later I am going to end up on Facebook or YouTube, looking at Dhinchak Pooja’s ‘music’ videos.
- It is always easier to not do something, than to fail. Trolling is so easy, facing it is not. Social media easily means being sitting ducks to a thousand trolls. And who is not afraid of failure?
My adventures into the never ending world of fiction began at a humble local library. It was when I began to pester my mother to buy me new books that she got me a membership. I must say that I spend some of my most memorable evenings there, in a hot musty corner between dusty shelves.
There were no ACs there. Rather than pin drop silence, you could here a peculiar twanging noise of a very old ceiling fan, and whirring and slushing of a bulky water cooler that was pointed at the librarian. It wasn’t exactly the kind of place where you would feel welcome, the staff was rude and disinterested – and only the intense love for books attracted people to that place.
For a shy kid like me, nothing could be better. I was terrified of people and even if I did run into someone I knew, they couldn’t just come and strike a conversation there.
The thing about reading library books is that since you have a deadline, you tend to finish the book within that stipulated time. And so, for me it meant reading at least one book every two weeks.
Unfortunately, childhood summers do not last forever. From reading for entire evenings and weekends, I have had to curb my reading time to just about the time I take to travel to work and back – and that’s barely half an hour each side.
Libraries hence don’t make sense anymore because there is no way I can finish a book that quick. Ever since I started earning, I have instead starting building my own collection. Having your own copy of a book is a much greater joy.
You can get attached to it in your own unique way. I like writing a little note on the first page of the books I buy, to commemorate the occasion or randomness with which it was bought. That way my library itself tells a story.
Unlike library books, they stay with you and age with you.
Of course, also unlike library books, they burn a hole into your pocket. However, most book hoarders have their tricks and hacks, and perhaps soon I ll do a whole new post on just that.
Another major problem is space. I hate the idea of ebooks, and I am pretty much out of space – with books stuffed into my office drawers as well. Buying a bookshelf has been on my mind for a while. I would have by now, if I wasn’t broke from buying books all the time.
But a place over flowing with novels is exactly the thing of my dreams – and I feel glad that I might slowly be inching towards it.
There is a bug in my brain. A constant nagging. It asks me to write.
And then there is my lazy, lazy ass. That tells me that life is so comfortable with my job, my books and my coffee.
Today, however, is the day that I set my bug free. I don’t have a structure of what this blog is going to about – although I do have a rough, hazy plan.
I attempt to discover myself through my deep engagement with fiction.
I plan to document my journey as I devour my ever growing TBR pile, perhaps on the way give you some bookish tips on how to satiate the bookworm in you.
I am hoping to meet bibliophiles from around the world too (through this screen of course – Introvert Alert!!) and learn more about must reads from around the world.
If you have suggestions of topics I could write on, book recommendations, or just want to say hello drop me an email at email@example.com