I still remember the day (actually it was night) I started writing. It was probably three years ago. What happened? What did I think before I took a pen and paper? Actually, nothing. But Everything. I was never a literature student. But my love for the language and more than that my respect for the language keeps me closer to it.
I don’t remember the exact time but I can remember that I was the only one accompanying the nearest owl.
I wrote the first word, and the second, and then the third, and on and on.
Seriously, I felt like I had seriously achieved something. I was happy and proud at the same time. It was the feeling of creating something: Creation of characters, creation of situations, creation of a new story.
Yes, the story which was started then has been drastically changed by now. But the theme was never changed. I was eagerly waiting for the morning and wanted to show the 1st chapter which I wrote to my parents. I was eager to declare that I wanted to be a writer. And trust me, the next morning when my parents saw it, they were actually happy. I thought they would say, “Nice”. But they were happier. They were happy with the fact that the daughter of that age was interested in such a subject: writing. And I was quite sincere about it.
But very soon, thanks to my father, I came face to face with the reality: It is not an easy task at all. It takes years, and many more papers to become a ‘Good’ writer. Forget about the better and best for now. But I had make my self capable enough just to be called a ‘Good’ writer.
“You will have to write, and re-write again and again the same content. And then you will see the improvement in your work. It takes a lot of practice.” These were the exact words of my father. But I wanted to pretend that my first fiction would be rocking. (It was!)
But my father was right. After that, I wrote a plot of second fiction. And I could see the difference in my own work. I got suggestions from so many people whom I can totally depend on for the brutal comments! (One needs it to reach the goal!)
But writing the first fiction was the most beautiful experience of my journey as a beginner. I lived the life of characters. Though it was a fiction, there was hardly any made-up-story. Though the characters were imaginary, their emotions were real. Once you read it, you will relate yourself with the characters.
(The cover image: A piece of my first fiction)