The other day, I heard someone ask a published author on how to go about writing about personal stuff, painful things, toxic things, hurtful things. Especially when the writing would involve not only the writer’s own life but that of others.
Writing a journal seems to be a favorite preoccupation for people, cos it is one of the top searches that lands people on this blog. Even though I have not mentioned the word “journal” in quite some time now. Maybe it is just students with journal assignments?
I am just SO tired today…..writing, writing, and more writing.
I have really been wanting to post all day, but what with writing frothing in my head, falling all over my shoulders and flopping about my feet, I have not got down to it.
Okay now, this is the third time I am writing based on Rick’s writing prompts. He is a generous soul who is contributing his paintings and creating a wonderful artist’s community around him. My anger is totally directed at myself: why am I bursting out in poems, when all I am trying to write is prose?
Writing on this blog sometimes becomes a difficult exercise: because this is a public blog. A lot of people who know me in real life know about this blog. And some of them definitely read it.
So, when in Singapore, I love Singapore and when in Malaysia, I love Malaysia. Seemingly steeped in hypocrisy, but that is the only way to get by!
ack when I was a student, and sometimes did not know where the next meal would come from, I would still buy books. Books sold by weight on Indian pavements, because in those days in India they wasted nothing, and I could not afford shiny new books.