Wednesday, April 24, 2013

On Writing

Someone asked me if I still get time to write fiction. Sentences twist in my mind and float, plots form and fade, and my mind struggles with the puzzles of how to start, continue and end, but the pages still remain empty. Here is the start of a story. Today I am fatigued and I will let this story go, like I have had to let go many other things.  I hope someone, someday pursues the following opening.
  • When people smile, you can tell when they learned to smile, was it as a child, fresh and without feedback,  or as a preening teen, practiced in the front of the mirror and as a invitation to be a friend, or as a grown adult, when one has identified and accepted their quirks and strengths, the smile is whichever element won out, and will persist until one is laid down under the ground. She of course had the smile she learned as a child, simple when it appeared, expressing her joy and nothing else. I cared for her and vowed I wont let her smile change, and of course I failed. 


Blogger rweba said...

That's a nice opening! Unfortunately I have absolutely no talent to develop it ;-)

6:09 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you sit with a piece of paper and pen, cup of coffee not far, you will find yourself putting words down, not necessarily one after another, sometimes even one top of another, and maybe a few doodles. Before you know, something in that jumble will grab you, force you to reorganize the words and lines, and you will become a storyteller, a writer or maybe an artist.

-- Metoo

6:54 AM  
Blogger mukund said...

But Muthu, aren't theory papers one form of fiction? --Mukund.

10:39 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Mukund:
Yes. With proofs. :)
- Metoo

11:29 PM  

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