The First Draft Will Always Be Rubbish…..

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And so will the second. The third too will, probably. But that’s okay.

Some days you’ll write one paragraph after another only to realize you don’t have a fucking clue what you are doing. By the time you’re done you’ll want to slash lines across the computer screen. Other days you’ll simply stare at the screen and you still won’t have a fucking clue what you are doing.

Sometimes you’ll read something wonderfully inspiring and go – ‘Wow, I want to write like that!’ A while later, you will read something appalling and think, ‘Good god, who writes like that?!’ Both times you’ll realize you have not written anything in days. But that’s okay.

At times reading great work will make you question your own ability. You’ll feel diminished by your own perception: of another’s greatness and of your mediocrity. Other times you’ll be gripped by an even worse emotion – fear – when you read work that you despise and wonder, what if I can do no better? This too is okay

Upon reading the things you’ve written in the past, you’ll sometimes cringe. Sometimes you’ll smirk. Sometimes you’ll laugh. Or roll your eyes. But all of these reactions are just fine. (Except for a wistful sigh – that is not okay).

There are times you will not want to write – AT ALL. You’ll do everything you can to avoid having to type out a sentence that is your own simply out of fear that it may not turn out to be good enough. But good enough for whom? For yourself. Because god forbid you write one sentence then another and another and a whole paragraph, and many paragraphs after that and when you’re done with all of it you realize just how mediocre and pointless it all is – and the last thing you want is to be writing meaningless drivel and now you’re like all those writers you despise. Because your standards have always been so damn absurd that nobody could live up to them, not even yourself. Because, what if, ten years down the line you read something you had written ages ago and find a typo? A garish, unmistakable typo – like a horrendous pustule on a beautiful face – sitting there for years and years, on work that you loved and laboured over, for everyone to see and point at and laugh. Oh good god!


It’s okay.

Sometimes you don’t want to write simply because there is nothing to write about. Nothing worthwhile anyway. You have nothing different to say. Everything has already been said before. What more can you? How differently can you? You’ll just be another page, another paragraph, another line in a colossal heap of pages all floating about on the world wide web. Seriously, do you know how many blog posts are written everyday? 5671. The world can survive without another. What difference will one more make anyway?

Your vocabulary isn’t all that great. You make typos. You are too lazy to proofread. It’s too much work anyway. To give form and coherence to each random thought that comes into your mind. To sit with it for hours, if not days, dissecting it with words, with metaphors, with the right punctuation. To keep a neat little train going. To stay focused. To make it sound just right. To think, type, think, delete and type again. And all the while, to not judge yourself. It’s exhausting.

You’ve done this for long enough.

The words are in my head. Isn’t that enough? Is it that important to have them on a screen?

They’re better off in my head.

You’ll think. You’ll argue. You’ll reason. You’ll plead.

And then finally, you’ll write.

And then finally, everything will be okay.



The beautiful thing about writing is that I can do it anywhere. I can’t dance everywhere, I can’t sing everywhere. There are very few things one can do everywhere.  But writing is always a part of me, it is with me, wherever I go, whatever do, it remains with me.

I once wrote in my sleep. I typed out entire paragraphs, created a story in my dreams. Of course I couldn’t remember most of it upon awaking. Except that it was an erotic story. Soft-core Porn.

The wonderful thing about writing, about all art, is that anything can get you going. Absolutely anything. Words from a mouth or in a book. Leaves rustling on trees. Shadows of raindrops across your window that the streetlamps cast on your thigh  as you are driven in a car. A cool breeze that brings your attention to the sudden, chilly dampness of perspiration and gives you gooseflesh. A kid on a train. A walk. A jog. A song. Just. About. Anything. Endless possibilities. Absolutely everything has the potential to bring you joy – simply because you have the capacity to create it. I love that about it. You don’t have to wait for it. It sneaks up on you. Catches you unawares. In mid-flight. Like you were coursing through air, and suddenly a breeze jolts you up through the clouds, and you will now see things differently. It’s the most wonderful feeling on earth.

And once it happens, once you get going, it’s almost as if you would never stop. At times, when I write, I feel like my hands don’t move fast enough to keep up with the sheer speed of my thoughts. It’s as if they are racing with my mind. It is the most beautiful feeling because everything is so clear. I know exactly what I want to do next, and I’m going to do exactly that, because there just isn’t any other thing that could be done right now. There is no other word that could replace this one. No other way this sentence could be written. No other meaning than what this paragraph contains. And I know this. I know this, because I created this. And this is exactly what I wanted to create. This is the joy of certainty. The power of control. At this moment, when I write, I am invincible.

And so I love it. I love that this is something that I can do. That I am. That is part of me. That is with me, every day & every night. Like a drug that courses through one’s veins. Only you fuel the drug as much as the drug fuels you. To the point where you don’t know where the drug ends, and you begin.



My blog sucks

I am not a good blogger. Seriously. I can barely manage to write once in a month…. Look at the last post — made in September. September! for chrissakes! I can’t just put pen to paper and begin writing my shit here. I can’t share my personal life like this. I don’t kow how other bloggers do it. Talk about their break-ups, their bitchy exs, their bitchy bosses, their bitchy workplace, their bitchy friends, relatives, neighbours…. I just don’t get it… How? For the whole world to see, and comment and gossip and bitch about. And then we complain there’s no privacy left. So unless I really have ‘something’ to talk about — something my wonderful mind has just figured out — I can’t blog.

And also, if I’m going to take the pains to put into words 1 of the 1001 thoughts running through my head at any given point of time, it can’t be the ravings of a 7 year old. Writing, is supposed to be the end product of a process of understanding. Like water that comes out of our Aquaguard (with eboiling +) at home which has three stages of filtration and purification. Not like some leaking faucet in a public bathroom. That’s another problem I got. I can just write like that. That’s like throwing up. eeeeuuuu! One has to think and figure out shit before writing it out. Not just blabber like some silly kid. So you see most of my posts are critical analyses of things that you never thought needed to be critically analysed. This is why I have no viewers. My blog sucks.

And frankly, what’s the big deal about writing sob stories of your life on your blog. (Not necessarily sob but generally complaining/aggressive/I-dont-give-a-fuck/this-world-sucks/you get the picture type stories) I don’t see the point of writing such stuff. How much are you going to complain? And at some point of time, one’s got to stop writing like a 7 years old.

I think I’ll just have to resign to the fact that my blog is not going to be popular. No one likes to read stuff that isn’t complaining/aggressive/I-dont-give-a-fuck/this-world-sucks/you get the picture type. I write stuff that can’t even be tagged. Who looks for tags like creativity or imagination or other shit I have here? I was really happy with the pornography post — people like to look for sex..but the damn thing isn’t optimized for sex. Bah!

My problem is I take this shit seriously, I think I gotta think before I write. Bah! Who wants to read that? Do we read while thinking? No! No one’s got that kind of time. I actually expect people to come to my blog and get enlightened and leave challenging comments and thought-provoking responses over which we engage in idealistic and philosophical discussion. See there— I did it again! TOO MANY BIG WORDS IN A SENTENCE !!!! Just goes to show how incorrigible (read: cannot be improved) I am.

My blog will just keep sucking.

Come to think of it, since no one’s really reading my blog, I won’t really be revealing much to the public. I could put up stuff about my love life (or lack of); my issues (nope, no lacking or slacking there) and it won’t make much of a difference. No, but see — that doesn’t change the fact that it would still amount to making it public since blogs are meant to be public. That’s another problem I got — I can’t ignore shit for what it is. Damn!!  My whole system’s screwed. To hell with it — let it suck.

Going to Work on Read This!

I’ve been a freelance writer for quite some time now on GAF (GetAFreelancer’s nick name). I started freelancing initially for the company where I’d worked for a whole month before realizing that it wasn’t a very smart idea. They’d be paying me much more as a freelancer, plus I wouldn’t have to sit within four walls for 8 hours a day nor would I have to do wake up early to get to work on time. Freelancing was just the thing for me. And if your priorities are like mine, then freelancing might work for you too.

The first site I worked with was GAF, and so far I’ve been quite satisfied with my experience. I’ve made a decent sum of money and managed to have a lot of time to pursue other interests too. GAF works like most other freelancing websites, only it’s much easier to get started, less of the bells and whistles and it survives plainly on no-nonsense, only essential stuff. Service providers bid on projects posted by buyers, offer the best services and prices, communicate with buyers through a private message board and eventually win the project. The website provides an escrow service for the payment which gives one some guarantee. The membership is free, 15 bids every month for no cost, but the website gets a commission – $3 or 3% (whichever is higher) of the total payment for every project you win. This can be avoided with a monthly gold membership of $12. After each project (that has been paid through GAF) you get to rate and review the other party, which is published for everyone to view.

Even with this ease, however, many providers will complain of being cheated or having miserable experiences with clients on GAF. So here’s a list of a few things that can make it easier for you:

  1. Getting your first project is going to be difficult since you have no reviews. Thus, you might have to work at a lower price than you would desire. This is just something you would have to go through. At this stage, put efforts into writing your bid and provide a sample or two. Ideally bid on a rewriting project, this is easier to do and to win.
  2. Gold membership proves to be economical if you’re going to work regularly on GAF: A) It gives you credibility. Buyers will see that you’re willing to invest cash in GAF, which means you’re serious about working and making it too. B) If you win two project of $100 in a month, that’s $20 wiped clean off you in GAF commissions. With gold membership, it’s just $12.
  3. Buyers will ask for samples, that’s the only way they can judge. Keep a few ready on different topics. Better yet, post them to article directories and send links. If a buyer asks you to write a fresh sample for him for free, he’s mostly conning you. Think over it — 20 providers bid on a project, one sample article from each and the buyer has 20 rewrites for free! Provide a regular sample to be on the safer side.
  4. Buyer reviews are important. Make sure you check on the projects a buyer has posted in the past. If he has a long list of projects posted and canceled, you know what he’s up to.
  5. Don’t fall for reviews blindly. Check who’s given the reviews — mostly it’s the same person working multiple accounts and posting fake projects to give themselves reviews. For example, if you a see a long list of  private projects on a providers ‘Projects Won’ list, you know there’s something wrong.
  6. Its quite unethical on your part to demand an escrow at the beginning of the project. Be fair to the buyer. At the same time it is quite stupid of you to work the whole project without an escrow. Be fair to yourself. Finish 50%, get it approved and ask for escrow.
  7. Buyers who post contact details on the private message boards, buyers who ask for resumes, buyers who want you to write “paid samples” without awarding you the project are to be avoided, unless this is a Featured project.

There are many other things that one learn on the way — in fact most of them. Freelancing is a lot of fun, but only if conditions are favorable. There’s a lot to this particular business, which I may eventually compile in an ebook. Until then, this should be good to go!

Working with Assholes… Part I

I’m sick and tired tired of working for Assholes. (I should use that term in a more specific sense, it must have categories, levels…I’ll get working on that soon)

It’s very frustrating to work with people who do not understand what ‘writing’ means or for that matter what is the purpose of ‘language’

It’s disappointing to work with people who do not understand the value of ‘words’ and fail to judge what words are supposed to do and how they are to be used.

it’s downright pathetic to work with people whose idea of ‘writing’ is using a few long adjectives along with other parts of speech to make a sentence and then refer to this sentence with other nouns like ‘opinion’ ‘judgment’ or ‘quality’

And most of all, it’s saddening to see that my work is supposed to meet these standards.

I’m sick and tired of working for Assholes. I am, however, not sick or tired of working.