I am a Mad Writer

I start this narrative with a lie that I am a writer. I am not . At least I am not sure about it. What makes me say so?

Like the quintessential inquisitive young adult I got to my computer and typed in the words "Define: Writer". The result was eye-opening. The first link said, a writer is "a person who writes books, stories, or articles as a job or regular occupation." Hmm... retrospect. Being schooled in a typical school with typical teachers and typical (read: boring) academic curriculum, this thought never crossed my head. I used to write essays on mundane topics like "the impotence (er. importance) of discipline". One night, while downing my seventh cup of coffee fumbling on words, googling (again!) fancy sample essays while cursing the teacher and the clock (which again smiles and says 2 hours to deadline) I break-down. Introspect. What am I writing, why am I writing? Does writing simply means- using a system of more or less permanent marks used to represent an utterance in such a way that it can be recovered more or less exactly without the intervention of the utter-er. Ha. I laugh at this definition which in turn mocks me. What do I do now? Google again. I say motivate me Google, and like the rising sun Google shines forth this quote:

"Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it’s the answer to everything. … It’s the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build up, to create, to be astonished at nothing, to cherish the oddities, to let nothing go down the drain, to make something, to make a great flower out of life, even if it’s a cactus.”—Enid Bagnold

Almost brought a tear to my eye. I exclaimed to myself yeah! there is a metaphysical realm to it. it not just a mere conglomeration of words! It is to create a flower out of cacti. So with the keyboard in front of me and a new blogger ID, I the toiling vintner, shall grow words for grapes as they grow on adverbs and metaphors that so they can then be turned into the sweet (and intoxicating) wine. Wait ... rewind, retrospect.

“The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write; a man will turn over half a library to make one book.”—Samuel Johnson

Damn, I didn't do that! I have to be a reader first. So I march to the library and pick up "Moby Dick". Crumbling under the weight of its sentences (and the sheer mass of the book) I set it aside. As Nathaniel Hawthorne said "Easy reading is damn hard writing." Its easier said than done. Anger. Failure. Resentment.

Somehow I got on with reading the works of the greats and the not so greats. I got myself a Goodreads account and then the critic in me started rating the greats. All is well now that I've read a lot, I can write - I thought. And life has been thus, living this lie.

Being as writer and being a good writer are two entirely different things. So what makes one a good writer? Reading and writing a lot. Agreed. But you do need someone to tell you: “You suck” in your face (or on some major social forum).

But then again what gives a person the right to judge others? Not going into the ethics of it, we need writers to judge writers. Theoretically every person must have read a lot and written a lot to judge a person who has done the same. So that’s where other writers come in :

1. To provide judgmental (hurtful) commentary

2. to provide more stuff to read.

This is how I see myself in the milieu of writers today, on the keyboard I slog

I do still wait for some comments perhaps from some anonymous surfer who laid a casual eye.

As the day passes by I chuckle to myself "Writing is its own reward, Sigh."

Going by definition, I am a bard too. Kidding. I am a confused writer, the Mad Hatter. Am I a writer? Do I want to become one if not, then? . I’m troubled to answer I must admit. I’m afraid I will burst into flames at some point if I do. I’m afraid I will fade into obscurity away if I don’t. I’m uncertain if I must become selfish in order to grow into who I want and need to be. But I do know this silent solitude in me is the only thing I've known for years. And I do not wish to watch it go.I need inspiration, motivation and feedback. Arrgh... breakdown, rebellion,, apathy. I am what I am, an agent of chaos. I like being confused. It makes writing interesting. It lets me live in a different world amongst the eccentric characters away from mediocrity and mundanity where everyday is full of promise and well madness. After all
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

Simply because I haven’t got a clue, nor do I give a damn.


Credits: Snoopy, Calvin, Mad Hatter

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I can get no “Satisfaction”

The photograph is old, low quality, black and white (not by intention but by design) and well...  Priceless. We see four people playing musical instruments. A person is singing into a mike and two more are positioned to record the instruments, one on a boom between the musicians and another in front to a nearly five foot tall amplifier. On the floor behind the amplifier a technician looks for guidance from the small group of men huddled in front of the stage. The stage is set up for a musical concert with lights, amplifiers, cameras and evidently, audience. The word “Circus” is written on a banner overhead. Circus? But where are the tightropes, the gymnasts, the elephants and surely the people on stage look like junkies, hippies...er... rockstars rather than clowns. This “Circus” is The Rolling Stones' TV special entitled The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus ( Recorded on 11 December 1968).‘ The project was originally conceived by Mick Jagger (Singer,The Rolling Stones) as a way of branching out from conventional records and concert performances. Jagger approached Michael Lindsay-Hogg, who had directed two promos for Stones songs, to make a full-length TV show for them.



The band playing was a one-time English supergroup consisting of John Lennon(multi-instrumentalist/vocalist,Beatles), Eric Clapton(guitarist, Cream/Yardbirds), Keith Richards (bassist, The Rolling Stones) and Mitch Mitchell(drummer, Led Zeppelin) that Lennon put together called “The Dirty Mac”. In the picture, we see the singer, John Lennon singing into a mike and looking away with a peaceful demeanour. Eric Clapton , and Keith Richards are strumming their guitars and Mitch Mitchell is drumming away.





So how does this photograph depict or remotely call on to expertise?

Well, the fact that the members are multiple Grammy winners, inductees in the Rockand Roll Hall of Fame (with Clapton being inducted 3 times); era definers, legends...(to cut it short “Gods of Rock”). Seeing John Lennon, Eric Clapton and Keith Richards on stage together should give one an idea that something magical is about to happen. This concert indeed seeded the formation of a super group-”The Dirty Mac”. Which perhaps answers our inquisition into context of the photograph, the explanation to which, lies ahead. Colvin’s idea of “practice makes perfect” and “no substitute for hard work”, “deliberate practice” and “adopting a new mind-set” is reinforced by the fact that the members, who are accomplished musicians, became so only after years of hard work. For example, Eric
Clapton started from an early age of thirteen. “He preserved his practice sessions using his portable Grundig reel-to-reel tape recorder, listening to them over and over until he felt he'd got it right.(Clapton 2007, pg 22)”[1]. He is also known to have broken strings mid-concert.  The Beatles' producer, George Martin, tells how Lennon "had an inborn dislike of his own voice which I could never understand. He was always saying to me: 'DO something with my voice! ... Put something on it ... Make it different.(Coleman 1992, pp. 369–370.)” So we can  clearly see that even this legend was not blessed with an innate musical voice. In the words of  biographer Barry Miles, "Lennon simply shredded his vocal cords in the interests of rock 'n' roll.(Miles and Badman 2003, p. 90)

Expertise or Godlike?

Experts are portrayed to embodiment perfection. They are not supposed to be challenged and are prodigies that are sent down by God. We see that Eric Clapton was compared to God's image in the episode "Holy Crap!" of season two of That '70s Show.(You will have to watch the episode to find out) But when we look deep into the lives  of these gods, we find their imperfect mortal forms perhaps similar to the ones in Greek Mythology. We see the amount of time and devotion that these people had to give in. Under the veneer of stardom and fame we see hippies and junkies who love their music. We do find that this fame coupled with the fiery urges of youth develop into arrogance, ignorance and indulgence into worldly vices. One question that comes in my mind after reading these articles on “talent‘ is that how are these “tips” relevant in those times to today's public? As Colvin states, “those extra steps are so difficult and painful they almost never get done.( Covin, last paragraph)” But what motivated, say, Eric to pick up his guitar?

These authors (Colvin/Coyle) seem to ‘upvote’ the concept of “Tabula Rasa‘(theory that  individuals are born without built-in mental content) , it does not seem true. Therefore, the picture is black and white not by intention but by fate. It oozes awesomeness  and expertise par excellence. It motivates to practice harder, do what you love - as the title  suggests (which is actually a song by The Rolling Stones) . The “Circus” is clearly that level  which is reached at the very end of ”Stairway to heaven.” (Led Zeppelin, 1971). So as I listen to  “Yer Blues (Beatles, The White Album)” and write this piece, I can definitely say (and many would

agree) this photograph is the manifestation of expertise itself.

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