An Introduction to Writing a la Writing Noob

An odd series of events that might lead to a writing career

When I was a wee bit child, my grandmother, a globetrotting woman of fashion and adventure brought me a limited edition copy of Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. “From Shakespeare and Company,” she said, as if it should naturally mean something to my 5 year-old self. The hardbound book felt heavy in my small hands. Not just in heft and size but in significance. It was foreign bought, from my beloved swashbuckling grandmother and still smelled of printing machines and ink. What a beauty it was! Wrapped in smooth green and gold, end pages the colour of ripe, juicy aloo bukhara, a silky olive book mark that I neatly placed on page 1 before I was called for dinner. When I leafed through the book, the pages crinkled deliciously and it was a crime, a violation of my rights as a person! that I was called away from that magnificence.

I knew then that I would grow up to be a writer.

The end.

Of course, this is not how it went. I have still not read Anne of Green Gables and sadly fell asleep watching the first episode of the Netflix series. At 5, I was mostly obsessed with a yellow hardbound copy of Panchtantra and a collection of folktales that gave me nightmares. I rarely read in English. My grandmothers - the word including all women of the generation above my mother’s - were, and might still be, sadly domestic. I say sadly because I fear they didn’t have much choice in it. My love for aloo bukhara is the only truth in the lie above.

At nearly 31, when I am think about my professional designation, the closest one I aspire to is a storyteller, though I opt for the simpler ‘writer’ in introductions to avoid nosy judgement. In the last decade, thankfully and luckily, historically and culturally, financially and socially, I have gathered or was already born into enough privilege that I can be philosophical on this subject.

How I came to write The Fantastic Affair of Despair is a story for another day. For the purpose of today’s newsletter, I would prefer to elaborate on a series of events that might lead to a career in writing. Now, one might think that a formal education in literature or creative writing is necessary to enter this creative field. But history would suggest otherwise. That of course does not minimize or negate the value of these programs - it simply suggests that if you don’t have the means to access them, you can still have a perfectly fine career in any artistic field.

Any creative discipline requires one thing and one thing only - dedication to the craft.

For example, at 6, you could want to be a zoo keeper. At 11, a dog walker and segue into a basketball player at 15 after a successful growth spurt. You might then want to become a musician after a particularly difficult breakup with a manic-pixie boy at 17 and repeated marathons of Rockstar but graduate with a degree in physics at 23. After slogging at an underfunded science institute for 4 years, you might decide to seek art therapy and realize you love pottery! Oh! what a joy it is to create these beautiful vases and bowls and mugs with your hands. To paint them with snails and shells. These creations of clay and ceramic are your oysters and you realize you can paint anything on them. People love your work and viola! By 32, your degree in physics is long forgotten, gathering dust under your mattress and getting chewed on by termites if you live in a particularly old home that is yet to see a modern renovation.

Yeah, this child was too badass for a conventional career. . .

In my case, I started with a teacher at 3. A wildlife researcher at 6. A mechanical engineer at 11 before my bullying physics teacher forever shattered that dream. A guitarist at 15. A doctor, an oral and maxillofacial surgeon, a wildlife conservationist, a travel writer, a travel documentary filmmaker, a political writer, a hotel-chain owner, a botanist, a naturalist. At several stages of my life so far, I have simply wanted to be David Attenborough. At no point in time however did I ever say I wanted to write a book.

At 15, I wrote a story and a part of it went something like this -

Sister 1 - Can you pass me a kiwi?

Sister 2 - What? A kiwi?

Sister 1 - Yes.

Sister 2 - Okay. Can you book my tickets to New Zealand?

Cover design by Akangksha Sarmah

Ever since the release of The Fantastic Affair of Despair, I frequently receive messages on LinkedIn and Instagram seeking advice either on publishing books or writing them. Sometimes I get on calls with the people. I can almost hear their disappointment when I answer their questions. I believe they are expecting some secret sauce but in my short experience, the advice, the answer is right under everyone’s nose.

To get published, shamelessly approach editors.

To get writing, read books. Read books of all kinds. Of all genres. Of all age groups and all times of the day. When you don’t feel like reading, write.

These are the only three things that have worked for me so far.

During my time at a literary agency, I would go through tens of manuscripts in a month. While you can wish to write, if you never read, you never learn the subtle, imperceptible nuances that add flavour to a story. Like chess players read old games and strategies or musicians learn to play decades old tunes. You can pick a guitar, never having struck a single string with dreams of making it big as the next Eric Clapton but won’t be able to write a song if you have never heard one before. At the agency, we used to discuss it so often that you can tell apart the writing of someone who never reads. It is clunky and lacks finesse. It aims big but falls miserably short. Sometimes the writers would state it in their pitch that they never read (with a little HA HA to ease the blow).

Reading books is the cheapest way to begin a career in writing. There is no single sequential path to a writing career. It is a lovely slog that demands a simultaneous career for sustenance. That is what makes it fun! You must absolutely be in love with stories to actually pursue a career in writing.

There is no societal pressure of earning a substantial living from it because there is rarely any.

There is no stress of burning yourself into the ground because there are no expectations except the ones you put on yourself.

Writing is something you do for yourself and for the love of it.