Desicritics Category: Media: Blogs

One Day, This Too Will Pass

Subroto Pant — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 09:06:25 EST

One day this too will pass. Each day on social interaction sites on the web, people log in, lurk, comment, fight and flirt with random strangers. They are drawn by the daily fix of interacting on sites that draws them in each time.
- I am leaving now and I mean it.
- No I ain't never coming back again.
- You don't deserve me ingrates.
- Yo! Wassup guys? Did ya miss me?

But it is quite possible that we never come back again. Life is short and not all of us wander around the earth in our 900th year. The first time a friend died was when I was in year six. I had left him behind, in the old cantonment town near Pune, to go and study far away in Nainital. He died due a sun stroke while I lived on in the cool air of a hill station.

Then there was 'dog'. Behind the bluster and fights lived a teen that needed love. Some of us loved boarding schools, but we had gone there because our parents wanted the best for us. There were others who were dumped because their parents had no time for them. That was dog's story too. He survived a horrendous year when his right hand was fractured in many places and he spent the whole year in a cast. Then we broke off for holidays and when we came back I looked for him until someone told me his story. His plaster off and freedom regained, he got on a moped to drive around the city. In another freak accident the door of a car flung open and he crashed into it. He died on the spot.

'Sam' had been accepted in the Masters program of his choice in US. It was his last Holi in Delhi and time to live it up. When we had wound down he was still going strong and drove off to Bhadkhal Lake. It was late in the evening when they decided to head back home but when the truck collided with his motorcycle he didn't have a chance.

M came back in a body bag from his first posting in Kashmir, whatever pieces of him that they found anyway. His father, a decorated soldier himself, had to ask his wife to not look at the remains, lest it sullied the memory of her son. This time there were children involved as he left behind a three year old and one year old son, and the wife he had married overriding objections in the family.

Last year it was JP's turn, JP who was my classmate in school. Originally a year senior, he joined us in year eight. Loud, noisy, in-your-freaking-face-so-what-you-going-to-do crazy JP. Mad about sports and good at it too, in each and team representing the school. The first person to initiate soccer game during a break, sorting out teams to play, endless energy that never seemed to burn out. And gone from our midst before his children hit their teens.

Each death came at a different stage in life. Each one reminded me that it's not just the old and the infirm that get taken away. That life does change in an instance, in the blink of an eye. Memories remain and then they too fade away.

Take care, stay well.

Too Much Tweeting? Mum Tweeting Son's Death Causes Uproar

DesiGirl — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 12:23:24 EST

By day singing praises of social media and the latest wonder it is capable of and by night, decrying those who use the power of the same to reach out towards some support and solace. The media, the blogosphere, everyone is at it again. Shellie Ross, aka Twitterer Military_Mom, finds herself the latest victim of a modified witch hunt, wherein she is being pilloried for tweeting about her two year old son's fatal pool accident.

Shocked gasps must have resonated across cyberspace when, at 11.08 pm on Monday, Ross tweeted "Remembering my million dollar baby". So of course this makes her fair game as "which mother will calmly sit and type when such a calamity has befallen her?"

What does one do when a loved one passes away? Ring close friends and relatives and pass on the message, who in turn do the same. When my baby cousin passed away suddenly in 2008, my mother and I rang many relatives to pass on the message. In fact, one of the first things we did on receiving the news, apart from falling apart crying, was ring one of my grandma's closest friends, who lives next door, asking her to go and sit with my inconsolable grandma. Not once did we pause to think: "why are we sitting here with a phone in our hand when such a horrible fate has befallen us?" Because that is what you do - in times of grief, and of course joy, we want our loved ones around us, to comfort us and grieve with us. In order to do so, news must be passed.

In the modern world, where social media gains more and more importance by the day, what is so astounding that Ross tweeted the worst news a mother can hear? Didn't that tweet cause her friends to rally around and support her in her darkest hour? What is so shocking that despite losing her son, she could sit and type out 140 characters to spell out the disaster of her life? How different is it from picking up a phone, dialing numbers and verbalising the disaster?

Poor Shellie Ross - not only must she come to terms with the loss of her two-year-old, she must first defend herself against people who cannot believe she used the latest technology to let the world know of what is happening in her life. If you can use Twitter or Facebook to tomtom your latest achievement, post photos of your children and even moan your migraine, what is wrong from using it to gain some much-needed support?

Some people should get a life. And leave the grieving ones to their grief.

Haagen-Dazs, Mistaken Cause

mbjesq — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 09:59:56 EST

Photo credit: Times of India

As I have written in a different context, Indians have a strange love of parsing insults from the innocuous -- or as in this case, the poorly thought-through. Particularly when the phantom effrontery seems to come from foreigners.

The latest uproar involves a newly opened Haagen-Dazs ice cream store, which had the bad judgment to fly the banner depicted above to announce its store opening. It reads:

PARTIED AT THE FRENCH RIVIERA? WELCOME.
Haagen-Dazs

EXCLUSIVE PREVIEW FOR INTERNATIONAL TRAVELERS

Access restricted only to holders of international passports.

The reaction began with a sketchily described post by Times of India writer and Chief Editor of Times Internet, Rajesh Kaira, on his TOI blog, Random Access. According to Mr. Kaira a pseudonymous "friend" of his was refused entry to this Haagen-Dazs store for failure to proffer an "international passport."

The story was repeated by the TOI as a regular news story. Both pieces carried the headline, "Sorry, Indians Not Allowed."

Since then, it has blanketed the blogs, generating breathless commentary. Feedback from readers has been overwhelmingly incensed and incendiary, even in response to the commendably even-handed post on Desicritics.

I don't get it. Sure, the banner was stupid beyond belief. But that's just it: who could read it and believe that it intended anything as sensible as an insult?

The promotion clearly meant to create cachet by equating the consumption of Haagen-Dazs with the romance and luxury of international travel. Was this ice cream seller determined to sell only to people who vacation in San Tropez? Of course not. To people who wish to sell us stuff, "exclusivity" means little more than "limited to anyone who will buy."

In Noida, that means Indians. It makes no sense to interpret "international" to mean "foreign" or "non-Indian". How many non-Indians are regularly hanging-out in the strip malls of the heinous suburban dystopia that is Noida? We can agree that the ham-handed promotion doesn't reflect a great deal of business sense in the first place, but was it really intended to exclude 100% of the store's potential customers?

True, the Times of India writer says his anonymous friend was excluded by the store manager (an Indian) for failure to present the so-called "international passport." Is this remotely credible? First, consider the source: TOI. Enough said. Second, doesn't this smack of, "I know a guy who knew a guy who..."? Third, what the hell is an "international passport"? The only thing I can think of is the United Nations Laissez-Passer, issued to employees of the UN and ILO.

The concluding line on the banner, "Access restricted only to holders of international passports" is, indeed, problematic. It is rather artless and seems takes the theme of "exclusivity" far too literally. But the clumsiness of the language also suggests that this was something generated locally and not by the marketing department of the American overlords. Leaving aside the inanity of the "international passport" requirement, what professional copy writer would follow the word "restricted" with the redundant word "only"? One in India, only.

Common sense suggests that (a) this was a dumb-ass promotional idea, (b) to foster the equally dumb-ass consumption of absurdly overpriced ice cream, (c) badly mishandled in the execution by some dumb-ass Indian ad agency, (d) on behalf of some dumb-ass decision-maker either at the franchisee or within the licensor's organization. The interesting issue is the last. Who was ultimately responsible for this idiocy? If there is insult to be found in this fiasco, was it a racist barb emanating from shameless foreigners?

I did a little investigation, calling first to Nestle, which owns the Haagen-Dazs brand, and then to the public relations office of General Mills, Inc., which owns the rights to all Haagen-Dazs franchise licensing outside of North America. The spokespeople at both companies stated that each store is an individual franchisee, with "independent responsibility and control of advertising and promotion." This doesn't necessarily mean, however, that General Mills didn't have a hand in the fiasco.

And which General Mills?

The next morning, I received an email from the director of Haagen-Dazs brand management at General Mills India Pvt. Ltd., Arindam Halder. Mr. Halder is the architect of brand management for Haagen-Dazs in India, and the man responsible for overseeing the opening of franchises like the one in Noida. His note offers some important details, which support my reading of the event as an ill-conceived marketing idea made even worse by incoherent manifestation:

There have been some reports on various online media alleging that the recently opened Häagen-Dazs shop in New Delhi, India, denied access to Indians. We vehemently and categorically deny this. Häagen-Dazs products and our Häagen-Dazs shop in India are and will always be for our consumers in India.
The recently opened Haagen-Dazs shop is open to one and all, and there’s no question of barring entry to anyone on any basis. The preview on Thursday, 10th December had a morning media event which was attended by journalists of repute from Indian media. The same evening we had a launch party for our friends and families, less than 5% of whom were foreigners. Also, during the mock training days at the shop leading up to 10th December, a lot of interest were generated and hundreds of walk ins were given samples of our ice cream. The store is now open to all public and seeing brisk business.

The poster in question was part of initial local store communication at a few locations within the same mall announcing the opening of the new Häagen-Dazs shop in the mall. The message was intended to suggest that you can enjoy, for instance, a taste of the French Riviera without traveling to France – by enjoying Häagen-Dazs. Unfortunately the reference to the international passport holder on the poster may have led to a significant miscommunication. This was completely unintended and we apologize for creating the misimpression that may have hurt our sentiments as Indians.

Regards,

Arindam Haldar
General Mills India

Clearly, there was no intent or attempt to exclude Indians; and we can all agree the brouhaha was the result of what Mr. Haldar euphemistically describes as a "significant miscommunication." But there are two very pregnant ambiguities in his statement. First, the "local store communication" language doesn't make clear who originated the promotional idea or created the banner, General Mills India (namely, him) or the franchisee. It simply says that the campaign was deployed locally, in the mall where the store was located. Second, the last line, in which Mr. Haldar says, on behalf of General Mills India, "[W]e apologize for creating the misimpression", suggests rather strongly that the banner came directly from General Mills India. It sounds very different than, say, "We regret that this misimpression occurred at a Haagen-Dazs franchise."

The concluding apology is also laugh-out-loud funny. So eager is Mr. Halder to self-identify as Indian, he essentially begs forgiveness for an Indian company having offended itself.

What conclusions can we draw from all this?

I think we can agree that there is no evil foreign hand in this story, no American or European racist out to mistreat Indians in their own country or determined to slight them. Indeed, Mr. Kaira of TOI got it exactly right (in his original essay, not the subsequent, abbreviated news item), even if he failed to look at the contribution of the licensor:

Whatever it is, it is idiotic. I checked later and found that the franchisee is an Indian company based in Delhi and the man incharge [sic] is also an Indian. I have often maintained that we ourselves are our biggest enemies. Our mentality is that of slaves and we think anything is good only if its approved by foreigners, or the “holders of international passport”. This is all about how India and Indians see themselves. Foreigners have nothing to do with it.

I don't necessarily fault the bloggers fanning the flames of this supposed outrage for failing to take the 15 minutes Mr. Kaira and I did to pick up the phone and get the facts. It is slightly disappointing, however, that the online commentators have almost uniformly ignored the obvious lack of malicious intent behind the fucked-up promotion. And there is yet deeper culpability in repeating only the tastiest, most shocking morsels of this story, in complete disregard of the basic fact that the errors in judgment were made not by foreigners, but by Indians -- even though this was reported and thoughtfully analyzed in Mr. Kaira's original story. This episode presents a cautionary study of how untrustworthy and manipulable online information can become as true journalism cedes way to what passes for "citizen journalism" in the blog world. It is always tempting to tell the story, not according to the facts, but according to the sermon one wishes to preach. The art is to tell a morally compelling story within the bounds of the evidence.

To her credit, and as we would expect, Deepti Lamba's Desicritics essay tells the full story -- as it was revealed in the original TOI piece -- and doesn't shy away from noting Indian responsibility for both the debacle itself and the underlying attitudes which engendered it. Yet, even Dee reaches the abrupt and slightly ambiguous conclusion that "racist brands" should be chased from India. Brands aren't ethical agents. People and corporations are. And those at the heart of this story were Indian. Perhaps Dee's intended plea is to abolish self-loathing; but somehow the anti-foreign implication creeps through.

There will be some, of course, bitterly disappointed that there is no longer a foreign scapegoat by whom to feel insulted; but they will have no difficulty transferring their ire to me for pointing this out. And it will feel just as good, since I am a foreigner.

If Indians want to salvage some national pride from the situation, they can always take encouragement from the fact this crazy promotion could happen in Mother India, but could never have occurred in the United States. After all, most Americans don't have a passport and have not heard of France.

10 Secrets To Blogging Every Day

rads — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 04:54:15 EDT

Here are some tips to posting on your blog every day:

1. Write at your choice of quiet times - it's nights for me.

2. Write about everyday stuff, ones you can relate to, it's a while lot easier that laboring through some thesis or political notion (unless that's your thing)

3. Write small if necessary, every post doesn't have to be a masterpiece (not that anyone's aiming for even one!)

4. Create a schedule if that helps, like every Friday as a song day, or a joke day to end the week on a fun note or every Tuesday as a tag day (I got rid of 3!)

5. Write about current events. Every day the newspaper is full of whats happening at your neck of the woods: pick one that you can relate to.

6. Write about a forgotten art form, tradition or a ritual that you once took part in and don't any more. Better yet, write about a family tradition, based on culture or just something that you've started.

7. Bursts of writing happen, while some days are bleah. When you do feel chatty, write more than 1 post, and if you have a tendency to ramble, break it down!

8. post an interesting picture you took or saw, your take on it. Make it your own, add a dimension to it, the effort shows.

9. Write a review of a book, movie, a play or even of a product you've used. Once again, add your voice to it.

10. Always schedule ahead. Helps lessen stress (frankly, if blogging's a hobby, there shouldn't be, but if we are committed to wanting to post every day, it helps to plan ahead). I'd scheduled all my tags (Tuesdays) and the Friday (song) ones. Set it to post at the same time everyday. Consistency is a good thing when you are doing a series such as this.

Write freely, write for yourself (not always for your readers or entertainment value), and write what you are most familiar with. When one labors through a passage, it shows. Lessen expectations for yourself, not every post need be your best, it is practice that helps in the long run, and most importantly, make your posts yours. It should be distinct and spell a style that's uniquely you.

If you can't post everyday, give yourself a break and take that break. This isn't a do or die, but more to exercise your writing skills. Whoever said 'practice makes perfect' surely knew his stuff.

The more you write, the better you get it, even if you weren't really trying!

Movie Review: Julie and Julia - For The Love of Julia

Harsha Goolya — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 21:58:10 EDT

Yes! It's been over a month since THE RELEASE (Julie and Julia) and it's a movie that is running very successfully, and no, I haven't stopped talking about and probably never will!

I am absolutely in love with Julia and Meryl Streep's near perfect portrayal of her. There is simplicity, humor and a certain charm that makes this movie have the effect of a warm donut in chocolate sauce.After compiling the responses of friends who have watched this movie, I must say they were left feeling the following:

* Very hungry-complete recall of all the delightful and perfect food that becomes the essence of the movie
* Weather transforms to a balmy romantic night where there's a song on your lips and the smiles of a stranger would seem like an extension of the warmth that envelops you
* Passion overflows- the search for the absolute love of life resumes.All the dull, boring routines don't seem like a burden anymore as the higher purpose beckons!

Yes, Julia invites you to a world that is cheerful, familiar and innocent! An old world yesteryear movie appeal blankets you.

It is a story of two remarkable women- Julia Child every bit a legend who brought French cooking to a servantless America (a term she coined herself, while looking for ways to present her cookbook) along with her ingenious and supportive husband Paul Child who played multiple roles in making a success of her passion for cooking and TV show. He could've gotten himself a business methods patent in the present times for his inventiveness in preparing part of the dish before the show. This was a first in the history of food television.

The other central character of the movie is the author of the book Julie & Julia - Julie Powell who took on the daunting task of making 512 recipes in a year. As indicated by her, she had a regular existence as a Government servant whose writing career went nowhere and was freaking as the thirty year age mark approached. At this juncture in life, she found the Julie Julia project gave her strength, sustenance and a responsibility to make every day newer through the recipes she replicated. Isn't that one heck of a storyline - a story in a story to inspire another. That's the effect it will have on you.

About the acting - the effervescent Julia Child could only be played by one of the greatest living actresses Meryl Streep! She gained 15 pounds to play the rule of Julia and had to wear very high heels throughout the filming as the real Julia towered at a 6 ft 2''. Meticulous as she is, Meryl has perfected the lilt in Julia's voice and makes it as authentic that friends who watched the original Julia child swear that she was perfect. Is there a higher benchmark for the woman with the highest number of Oscar nominations?Maybe not, only the next nomination would say!

The movie also left me with a thought, about our love for food, every Indian's love for food. If Bollywood would cash in on our craze for food and make an inspired version of this movie (apparently a first movie on a blog) would the movie be called Tarla aur Sarla in honour of our cooking legend Tarla Dalal or would there be a spin and dramatization of the story a possible East west masala where the movie would be Indra aur Sandra after the popular food blogger Indra of Mahanandi fame whose blog has become the quintessential guide to many Americans interested in Indian cuisine?

Warning! Many such questions may spin in your head after watching this movie! Do not deprive yourself - Bon Appetit!

PS: A video with Julie Powell

Media - Praise Only After Death

Golden Boy — Thu, 3 Sep 2009 12:04:13 EDT

Now that Dr.YSR Reddy has passed away, every TV news channel has decided to focus on his life story. We will now be told by the media, his relatives, and other politicians (of even the opposition parties) of how he struggled his way up the ladder of success in his lifetime, accomplished outstanding feats for the common man etc However all this would now be done, posthumously.

Till yesterday I, a common man in Mumbai, did not know much about this Personality. Now that he is dead, the Media - TV and Newspapers, and people who knew him will see to it that I read or hear about him, as they would sing kirtans and of him.

Suddenly, an entire day of a Country will be dedicated to him, schools and colleges will remain closed in different States and flags will fly half-mast.

-x-x-x-

In India, we celebrate the goodness of a person only after his death!

Dr.YSR Reddy achieved in his death all the airtime-coverage that in his lifetime he could never have even dreamt of.

Why do we get to hear of a person’s accomplishments and good words about him, only after his death?

The Media gives coverage to a Politician, a bureaucrat or a police officer only when it is time to point an accusing finger at the person.

No wonder then that we have no ‘Ideal’ in the Political circles for our kids.

What we hear from the Media is NEWS of Corruption, rape, violence, treachery, scandals! Acts of piousness and virtue are either looked upon with suspicion if given coverage, or do not receive coverage at all.

These are the signs of a growingly suspicious attitude in our Society.

-x-x-x-

Turn on any TV NEWS channel in the morning and chances are that you will feel sick in the stomach with the kind of negative NEWS that is served these days!

Yoga instructors advice us not to start the day by reading Newspapers or by tuning in to the TV NEWS channels early morning. For if you do, you will be served with a picture of the world that is gory, of people who are out there to get you!

We as a Society are becoming so intellectualized and so utterly disconnected with our hearts that we can no longer view anyone or anything without suspicion.

We need the Media: the Newspapers, blogs, writers, and newsreaders to reinforce on our minds time and again how bad are the people and the politicians, communities and their history, the streets or some country.

Kids grow up in this hostile environment digesting all the negativity, telling themselves that everything is a mess. They either turn into a rebel or turn totally selfish with no thought for the other and no love for one’s neighbour, in an over competitive world where “everyone and everything is so BAD”

No wonder then that modern diseases like Diabetes, hypertension, skin-diseases, cancer, heart diseases, and mental disorders are all stress-related diseases. We have lost sight of the world as a beautiful place.

-x-x-x-

In all this if one were to ask objectively what keeps this Fear and Suspicion alive amidst ourselves, we will see how all the Negative conditioning of our minds via the Media, have led us into an in-bred distrust of other people and the society; we will see how suspicion has become a tool for us to keep ourselves on our toes all the time in a “ big bad world”. We would rather trust a bad opinion about somebody, some community or somebody’s history than trusting a good opinion. Fear breeds fear, and makes us feel well-prepared.

The Solution:

I believe that there are many instances of generosity, heroism, humanity and love from the past and the present that never finds its way into the NEWS bulletins. If these were to be a given a fair amount of coverage, that in itself will be a great triumph for humanity and a revolution in our attitude as a people.

There are many NEWS out there that can nourish the hearts and minds of the new generation, heal the scars from the minds of the old generation and bring out the goodness that still remains in the world.

In balancing between the Positive and the Negative, the Nourishing and the Dejecting, can true Journalism really serve (and perhaps save) society!

Has Terrorism Robbed us of our Humanity?

Golden Boy — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 11:24:22 EDT

In my last article, Why India should not hang Ajmal Kasab, I had commentators vying for Kasab’s head. Everyone wanted him to be hanged except a couple of people. After reading the comments, I now believe that not only Mumbaikars but majority of Indians are still reeling in Trauma as an after-effect of the News that was fed to them day-in and day-out by the Indian TV private channels, in those 3 days of Terror.

What struck me in all the comments was the amount of anger, dejection and hysteria, symptoms of Trauma in all the readers of my article. Nobody was ready to even engage in an honest dialogue while they thirsted for the blood of the Foot-Soldier of the Attack - Ajmal Kasab. The immense Trauma that these people had endured during the 26/11 Terror Attacks was evident in the tone of their comments.As I mentioned in the article itself, I was also one of the many who was traumatized by the 26/11 Mumbai Terror Attacks. I was one amongst the millions of my own countrymen who watched the horrific blow-by-blow account of what was happening miles away from my home on TV.

The completely horrific and unethical coverage of the Mumbai Terror attacks has been well-documented by a blogger Cheytanya who had to withdraw an article criticizing Barkha Dutt and her coverage of the Attacks on NDTV. I have reproduced the Original article on my blog for those who wish to read it: Even in the De-Trauma Camp that I attended, everyone agreed that TV had only helped in magnifying the terror, bringing Trauma to our homes as we went on watching on-the-spot News coverage by different TV channels for three consecutive days!We saw relatives of hostages being interviewed; we saw hostages freed being interviewed; we saw the combat at short-distance in our bedrooms on the TV screen LIVE; we lived an entire 3 days in Terror.

The scars of that Terror Attack still remain. Just the memory of that attack makes us cringe in terror, as we go into the psychological reaction of “Fight, Flight or Freeze” and feel utterly helpless and victimized the moment someone or something reminds us of those 3 days of Terror!

The Challenge in face of Trauma

The scars of the 26/11 attacks did not last for a few hours, days or months. It still lives, in you and me. I believe that the attacks succeeded in changing something in us, as the trauma has since gnawed into our Psyche, eating pieces of humanity and compassion by triggering in each individual our animalistic instinct of Survival. We feel our survival threatened, and the scars bleed: I cannot even call them scars anymore now, for now I realize that these are wounds, that have not yet healed and are still raw beneath the surface.

The terror-attacks were an act of Barbarism; no one can deny that except the Terrorists who believe they have a Cause that justifies such crimes against humanity. Terrorism is nothing but undeclared war on nations that they target. Nay, it is not just a war on Nations, but Civilizations. Look at what Afghanistan was reduced to under the Taliban regime! Would we ever have called that a civilized society? It was barbaric and cruel, very much against the principles of Civilization itself.

We need to understand that even as we combat the menace of this barbaric attacks on the Sovereignty of our different Nations; be it the US, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Israel, or India; we need to protect one thing that distinguishes us from the Terrorists: Humanity.

Humanity is the heritage of Civilized Nations. Humanity is transcending beyond our animal-instincts, to let the spirit of Truth and everything noble and compassionate triumph. Terrorism does not only target a few Civilians, it targets their immediate relatives, the community, the society, the nation who stand witness to the carnage. Terrorism not only robs the Nation of deserving and innocent people who fall prey to the attacks; Terrorism targets the very fabric of a Civilized society trying to ignite the fires of Revenge, Anger, and a thirst for Blood in the hearts of unsuspecting people who survive the Terror attack. It gnaws at everything humane within us, by triggering the most primitive animal instinct in us.

It is up to us, we have a choice. We can let them succeed in their intentions, to take us back to Barbarism, to turn us into them who are filled with Hate, Revenge and Anger. Or we can choose to act out of Logic and a higher Plane of Being.

This article is not about being meek and Coward. I call out for an elimination of all Terrorist Training Camps and an end to the games of all Terrorist Master Minds and those who aid them, be it a country or an individual.

Yet, let our Joint action against Terror be in the spirit of combating a menace that gnaws at the very concept of Humanity, and not in the spirit of Revenge or a reactionary “Flight or Fight” response wherein we go berserk and lose the humanity in our hearts.

Even as we fight, let us remember we are Humans!

Let not the Terrorists take away our humanity from us.

NovelRace Week 6: My Characters Are For Real!

IdeaSmith — Thu, 6 Aug 2009 11:04:22 EDT

A quick update on NovelRace. I know this is mid-week so a little late for this but I want to keep the diary going.

As the forerunners start to complete the race and drop off the list, the rankings of the rest of us obviously improve. Also, possibly because we are still learning the ropes and are just about now finding our feet and pace, the numbers are going up at a steady rate. Samit Basu, the pro at this, is still very much in the race which gives me solace in being able to think that each person follows their own pace, irrespective of experience and talent.

I've been writing of course, though not in an organized way. The biggest change over last week has been letting go of needing a schedule to sit and write. The good part about being on a sabbatical is that I'm master of my own time so I've decided I'm going to make full use of it and write only when I feel able to, without agonizing the rest of the time.

With my latest wordcount update of 22,491, I'm sitting at number 13 (an odd but closely associated number for me). Last week I've just finished introducing the many characters in my novel. I found resolution in the thought that my novel isn't a story of one person, it is the story of a phenomenon. And the only way to explain a phenomenon fairly would be to show its manifestations in many situations. Hence I justify my large character cast.

Earlier I laid out a sketch of all the characters but I've found that these have needed to be revised as I actually wrote. It's actually almost like the way I set an agenda for my own life and had to revise it in the past ten years as some unexpected things came up.

Also, I started with a certain plan of order of importance of the characters but even that has changed. Some characters have just written themselves into oblivion while some have emerged stronger and aggressively demanding "MORE FOOTAGE!" so I've given it to them.

Do you hear what I'm hearing? I'm talking about my characters as it they are real. Something interesting that has been happening to me in the past couple of weeks is that I seem to be seeing my characters walking out of the book and around me everywhere. In my conversations with various people, I find I'm fitting them mentally into my character cast and saying "This is so much like X. I could use that little habit she has of flicking her hair behind her ear and build it into X." I created a sketch but it's the people around me who are colouring in the details with everything they say and do.

And finally, quite unexpectedly, I've had a number of people offer their help. A colleague-turned-friend has offered to read and comment on my work so far. The A.E. comes calling with the standing offer to critique and I know his will be a valuable opinion to have. A lovely stranger/friend I met last year has offered her services in 'ripping it to shreds just to see what part of it will sustain', a favour I think I'm definitely going to call in. I will need to put my story through some acid tests. Not yet though.

One exercise I did take on earlier was to plot all my characters into a structure. Know those organisation chart/family tree diagrams? I've done dozens of those - I always enjoyed charting. I laid out my characters with their linkages and the sub-plots that they belonged to. I even colour-coded to show the main characters, the supporting characters and the furniture (background people who are referred to or just add scenery but aren't really important on their own). It wasn't just fun but I realised at the end of it that it actually crystallized my thoughts and sub-plots as well. It is the visual depiction of the skeleton of my story. Maybe I'll include it in the final novel; I've seen some authors include a family tree in the appendix. :-)

That's the update for this week. See you on the other side of the weekend, with (hopefully) a higher wordcount and more writing lessons!

NovelRace Week 4: If You Fall, Get Up & Run Again!

IdeaSmith — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 22:58:33 EDT

Here's my NovelRace update, not one but two weeks later. After a 'I do me proud' start in the first fortnight, I slacked off for a week in between, making full use of my 30th birthday as an excuse. Pune and its wonderful people gave me a delightful celebration spread over 4 days (a birth-weekend rather than birthday) so I'm full of fervent enthusiasm now, all set to prove myself again.

What have I learned? Other than the fact that creative endeavors don't follow regular schedules but do need discipline to keep running, that is. I bemoaned the fact that I didn't like my protagonist and realized that it was very important to understand and empathize with your characters to be able to tell their stories well. I did something else, almost a reverse process this time.

Instead of creating a character and endowing him with attributes that I would like, I formed images of people whose stories I wanted to tell. That is to say, instead of creating a character, I just picked out people and decided to build stories around them. As you might expect this means that the characters are drawn from real life, people I've known or in some cases, my own self. I don't want this to be either biographical or autobiographical so what I did do is use my real-life inspiration only as a reference ("What would he do in such a situation? What would she think?").

It is actually not as difficult as I thought it would be. For one, I'm superimposing the personality traits of one, on the lifestyle of another, overlaying it with imagery of my own thoughts and spinning the character's life into a direction that suits the story. I'm fairly sure that there'll be very little resemblance left to the original inspiration at the end of it. In fact, I'm not even really telling the story of the person who I started with. They only inspire the character, not their stories. Does that make any sense? I would hope so, it makes perfect sense to me and the art of telling stories is being able to make sense to other people too.

While on characterization, I was also recently (2 hours back to be precise) struck with the thought that there might be a certain typical range of characters that make a good story. All the good stories I've read have about 5-7 key characters and everyone else is just scenery. The exceptions to these are the Mahabharata and The Lord of The Rings (off the top of my head, I'm sure there are plenty more). All of these are magnum opera (which wikipedia tells me is the plural of magnum opus) - huge, sprawling canvasses with big, grandiose stories. I seem to have a huge character set already but I don't know whether I want to tell such big stories. My worth is in my details, small everyday observations of life. Still, things are changing at such a pace, I really don't know how tomorrow is going to look.

The loss of a week meant I dropped out of the running, a fact that made me panic earlier this week. The numbers continue to do a number on me. But my competitive streak may turn out to be an asset, yet.

At the end of this week, in a late burst of effort, I've managed to pull up the wordcount to 10,896 which puts me back in the top 20 (just about). I see the gap between the forerunners and the others widening and I really, really do want to be in the first group. Well, I was one of the surviving bloggers from the bunch that started 5 years ago (yes, that's how old this blog is!) so it's a matter of pulling off the 'not fall by wayside' trick again.

If you can't already tell, I'm playing coach to myself by now, giving myself several pep talks. It's a horribly lonely thing, a writer's life (and hell, I'm just starting!). For one, the story is forming in your head, right before your open eyes and no one else can see or hear it yet. You can't quite explain or put it in words, the characters and names and plots and situations and conversations and actions are firing through your head too fast and the best you can hope is to be able to pin at least a few of them down in words.

The other thing is something I remember reading about in Richard Bach's ONE. Ideas come to you when you're in the shower or brushing your teeth or right in the middle of your slumber (which is about 3am for most people and 7am for me) or taking a walk or crossing the road. In short, at the most inconvenient, embarrassing, socially inconsiderate time possible. I wonder if any of my friends have noticed me fade in and out of conversations this week. Well, since a number of them happened on the phone, they probably didn't notice, having gotten used to a quarter-attention-quote from me while at work. Ideas are not very nice creatures, they're horribly pampered brats. It's getting so I'm rethinking even my fondness for babies and kids.

At the end of it all is the gnawing, throat-strangling self-doubt. Writing a blog post is one thing, even a business report, a short story or an article, but a real, honest-to-goodness, full novel?? I really don't know if I have it in me. I have ideas but I really don't know if I have a novel in me. Why should that matter, ask the most supportive of my umm...supporters (gah, and I'm supposed to be a writer). It matters because whatever I choose to create will be made word by word, character by character, every silver tinge on every cloud in every goddamn horizon on every page will be created by me. And if that doesn't mean something to other people, it will be a colossal, utter, heart-breaking waste. Like giving birth to a stillborn.

Okay, I'll stop panicking. DEEEEEEEEEEP BREATHHHHHHHHHH. Wish me luck, if you love me. I really need it!! Until next week, I'm still going to be running.

I'm a Blogger - Can I Has Money?

rads — Tue, 19 May 2009 11:16:34 EDT

I miss the times when I used to be able to spend time with the paper and my morning coffee. Sipping the 2nd cup of the day, I'd sit back after the home emptied itself and comb through it in a serene cloud of silence. Turning the pages, occasionally pausing to savor the language, and then at times brushing past the jargon not making much sense of it, but marveling at the sheer genius of being able to string words without saying a thing, was, indeed a luxury. Something that perhaps few folks who have the luxury of sitting back home and doing "nothing" while the rest let the clock dictate them can relate to.

Sipping my evening tea, I picked up the Post magazine (which I incidentally think can produce some fine gems despite being overshadowed by its parent) and I turned to the "spot the difference" pages wishing that the husband did'nt beat me to it. He did, and I tried finding the last difference that he could'nt, and of course gave up. The man is brilliant when it comes to picking up nuances in a visual form and I stop there. I then flipped it back to the column - Below the Beltway - Gene's weekly.

Almost always filled with subtle humor on everyday annoyances and peeves to DC's political circus that surrounds us in the area, the man never fails to bring out a chuckle and at times, even a guffaw in us. It helps even more when such beauts can be shared by more, and these days my older two have chimed in to lend their take, twist and add-on to Gene's words.

Last evening, I snorted a hefty dose of some strong ginger tea up my nose as I read these lines. (and if you thought that helped clear my sinuses, it so didn't. Just very messy, I assure you, in case someone decides to try it.)

The point I am trying to make is that it is very, very difficult to get a book published, which is why I am dismayed by a hot new phenomenon in the publishing industry: People who cannot write are getting fat book contracts for work they didn't do. I'm talking about certain kinds of bloggers: people who run Web sites that subsist on things like reader-submitted snapshots of dogs in stupid outfits or photos of big plates of greasy food. The publishers are paying these bloggers for this "content," which they then turn into paperbacks.

I digress just a bit to allow for my own take of what I see:

In recent times, there's been a spate of bloggers bagging book contracts and they've been looked upon with wonder, amazement and awe within our blogging community. It seemed the cool thing to do once you have enough readers subscribed to your blog. Look closely and most were arts majors, journalists, creative poets, copywriters or ones who at least grew themselves to belong to one of those categories. They are indeed a marvel and I admire the grit for following through dreams.

Then again, the phenomena of writing and garnering an audience (for publishing purposes) is not entirely about writing as I quite naively imagined until recently. It's quite like how one climbs the ladder of success everywhere else. Though can't imagine why I thought writing was above it all! It's not so much of what you know as who you know. You'd think with a creative avenue like writing, the most successful and cash-able are the ones who are well, creative. Who let their ideas, words, content and style be so inimitable and un-cookie-cutter-like that people would want to pay to read them.

After reading a few bad books that I refuse to review apart from expending the minimum energy one can, I am led to believe as a sad inference that I am indeed woefully right!

I think this trend is a bad idea. But how do you fight an idea? Maybe you don't. Maybe you just decide to cash in on it yourself.

If Gene decides to join the crowd for the most ridiculous book ideas, who am I to contend?

Let's see now: read Chetan Bhagat? Writers like him ought be applauded to give hope and faith to all aspiring writers. The ones that enjoy the words, the play, the fluidity and the unique visual art that gets created within each reader's head. That is what an art form is, in my humble opinion. A medium, where the artist provides the freedom for the recipients to take it and make it their own by how it speaks to one is inherently slightly different than the other.

Here's the: Me want book kontract, too. - The column by the inimitable Gene Weingarten's in May 17th Washington Post.