Obelinux

Obelinux is a portmanteau of two rather guessable words, in fact the second word is already evident. 'Obelix' and 'Linux'. For me, Obelinux is a long forgotten self proclaimed nick name of a very dear friend, who surprised me by sending a mail after like a decade. This mail was to inquire about the progress of my book. Although I had nothing positive to share, it still made me very happy. This post, then, is dedicated to the one and only Obelinux.

Where am I stuck with the book? - Darn. I set myself a rather economical target of completing 5 stories in 2011. This was a sub point in my 2011 resolutions. Against this lilliputian objective my gargantuan efforts have yielded 2 complete stories. Pathetic. But this post is not to dissect the root causes of poor productivity in my writing, but to ruminate over an alternative course of action. Public opinion (read encouragement) is always a key determinant of my go-no go, so your comments (hope you have read the parenthesis afore) all welcome. Ok ok I admit I have stretched the usage of 'public' a tad too far, given my readership is only 10 odd ha ha.

What's the alternate course I am considering? - How about trying to write a full fledged novel instead? If I am struggling with writing those oh-so-unique short stories, would it work if I eliminate all this hassle by building just one expansive plot and then just write, write till the words swell into a volume worthy of a paperback. Seems plausible to me, all the more because I already have a plot in mind, just the detailing, sub plotting and spicing is required.

What is the plot about? - Unfortunately, there is only one direction that my mind works. I have come to believe that it is more of a incapabiltiy issue rather than lack of interest behind my sticking to the genre of the supernatural. I simply cannot write thrillers or anything else. Sad that makes me feel. But hark hark, there is one more genre which I absolutely loved while growing up which happens to be whodunnit murder mysteries a la the incomparable Dame Agatha Christie. So my novel will be a murder mystery stitched with the elements from the supernatural world. A supernatural crime fiction, how does that sound. Did someone say empty vessels make the most noises? Or was that proof of the pudding lies in its eating?

Bloody I write one story in 3 months, how will I ever write a novel? - Good question. (You see, I am in a alter ego mode right now). When someone says good question, it only means the answer is not obvious. In this case, it is also not forthcoming to me. But I have a hope that it may just work out. The assessment of my writing outputs reveals to me that, unlike other fellas around, I rarely ever leave a started story unfinished. I am a good finisher. The area where my chief struggles lie are in creatively thinking and executing stories under the preamble 'No two stories should be alike'. This SWOT analysis gives me confidence that maybe once I begin the end will come, later rather than sooner!

Still thinking... but one thing is certain. If I ever get around to writing this, the protagonist will be loosely modeled around the inspiration for all this - Obelinux!

The New Style

I have been reading some O Henry and Saki. The results seem immediate! Posting something I wrote in a surprisingly short time, albeit in a very different style to my usual way, a style which I so much called my original, pristine and true style. Regulars would notice how this story is 'different' from anything coming from my stable since over 2 years now!

Obviously, I am only sharing the first couple of paragraphs. Let me know if you liked it and what (if any) is new in this style? After all, the readers are the best judge :-)

~~~

It was only when he reached a fork in the road that he stopped the engine and got out. Having lost his way in the hilly, sylvan countryside for over an hour, he finally thought it wise to seek external aid; only there was none that would come his way. In the name of human imprints or vestiges, the only thing he saw was an abandoned checkpoint, which looked sullen remembering its functional years whence it harbingered the prized entry to the right hand road beyond the fork. Its ballast had disintegrated into smaller, humbler shapes and the alternating yellow, black striations on the bent pole were all but struggling to correctly convey their original hues. Still, with its archaic glory, it beckoned to him. Exasperation and impulse both found anchor in his faculties, and he heeded to the defunct checkpoint’s insinuations.

In a time lesser than what you would take from A to Z, he was in a tunnel and speeding. The subterranean conduit went on and on, it seemed to him, for eternity. Its unnerving silence, engulfing darkness and insalubrious dankness would have brought out the furrows on the most adventurous and feral foreheads; his was only a domestic, uneventful one. However, the sun did shine, literally, first as a small circle at the apogee of his vision, and then grew into that wondrous vista of verdant undulating landscape silhouetted by the tunnel’s dark walls. The exits of tunnels are always more exciting than their entrances, especially if it’s a long one and he felt relieved.

A signboard is to a lost vagabond what water is to the herbivores of the Atacama at the end of the dry season. When such a writing proclaiming ‘2 kms ahead – Brouhaha Amusement Park’ presented itself rather opportunely to the old man, one can only imagine the degree of happiness in his sigh. Even though the park was not his intended destination, its appearance in his hour of distress was more than welcome. It meant human dwellings, parking lots, hawkers, food, and people! Gladly, he dug his right foot a few inches deeper.

~~~

The books which I dont read

I am a terrible book reader. That's one weakness of mine which I have never managed to overcome, inspite effort and access to role models for idolatry. Sometimes it amuses me to think how can I be a so-called good writer if I dont read at all? Over the past several years I have met and known young and old who vaunt a 'I have read this' list which makes mine lilliputian in comparision. BUT majority of these populace are not great writers! So clearly the hypothesis which is evolving in my mind suggests that good reading does not necessarily translate into good writing. If there exists a correlation, it is surely positive but apparently not strong.

So what makes a person write beautifully? The key, IMHO is her/his mind. The ability to think. An arsenal of nouns, verbs, adjectives is a definite plus but not absolutely essential, as beauty in converting thought to words lies in the discerning choice of words. A good understanding of people, their mores and whims, likes and dislikes adds to the flavour of writing.

Anyways I came here to post a list of books in my rusty possession (some bought some acquired but none purloined:-). Most of these I am yet to begin reading.

10 completed

I have recently finished my 10th story. Writing has been extremely difficult. The proverbial writer's block is somewhat accentuated in my case due to the genre which I want to specialize. Anyways I am halfway there. Need another 10 stories to take the process ahead. What process - The act of publishing my book and attaining authordom.

I shall leave you guys with a small teaser from the latest story. If you wish to read the full story you have but two choices -
1. Force me (on gunpoint, if required) to finish and print my book ASAP
2. Wait and sing Guns 'N' Roses 'Patience'

...That night, they spoke in hushed voices around the fire, almost expecting to see or hear something jump from the shadows. Gonjo had been spotted dancing on the railway station on last two consecutive nights. Such an innocuous act as dancing could surely have been ignored but the gravity of the matter lay in the chilling fact that Gonjo had died a week back. Those hushed voices were only adding more fuel to the fire, not the one which kept them warm, but the wildfire of ghostly hauntings by the Begunkodor railway station. What happened at the station this particular night, however, would clearly disabuse any misgivings towards the ghost of the dancing woman...