So, Yesterday I had a Eureka Moment while writing the most crucial turning point of the love story I am currently working on. Yes ! i have completed the very first draft of my story !! It makes me excited. It's the only thing that has helped me survive these last few torturous days. Okay, i did not run aound naked screaming Eureka, but it surely helped me eleviate from the dull soddy mood I have been in.
Maybe I started believing the character I was writing about... and I was jealous of her and her lovely life. all the boys and the drama surrounding her. when did Fiction become so interchangeable with real life ?? Is this even possible ? It is said that good writers emerge from the miseries of their personal life - I cannot understand
1. Whether or not i will ever get into the big league of Writers
2. Even if my dream comes true - Do I have to live in the misery ? Such unbearable pain? so many mind games ? such hatred !
Why do good things in life come after a big personal sacrifice ? Whether or not a publisher fairy will come my way ? whether or not reader well-wishers will push my fancy lofty ideas of being in the big league ahead...Only time will tell... whether all this will prove its worth.
