Often, I was asked this question: how did you manage to write a book when you are pursuing one of the serious professional courses?
That is true. Besides writing what I wanted to write, thick textbooks await me to flip its pages on the table. It calls for the meticulous balance between the obligation and hobby. And that is the tough decision I had to make.
Writing is a very tiring hobby, I feel. I write something and it appears so beautiful at the moment. But it looks waste the next day. Then, I have to delete it. Frankly, it ache our heart to chop off the words we wrote with so much passion and love. But I have to do it to make it better. Many a time, I wanted to quit writing because every next day, my writing appeared messy and worthless. I growled with frustrations and cried with pain but thank you for being with me and inspiring me. Thank you for reading the boring stuffs (time and again) I wrote and still say, it reads superb. I again restored the deleted file from the recycle bin and worked on it. Isn’t it tedious to read, re-read, write, re-write the same stuff time and again?
Writing needs lots of sacrifices, hard work, patience and persistence. It is a lonesome job to sit in front of the laptop all the time and keep typing the words which you may have to delete it next day because it does not appear appealing. I sacrificed many things to come up with the draft of my book which I would soon sign contract with the editor. Then my book would be in second stage, editing. I had not played even a single level of Candy Crush; no complain I never play outdoor games. I didn’t go home during one month vacation, so that I can give some time to write what I started writing. I didn’t go out with my friends, so that I can write few more paragraphs. I rushed to my room as soon as my class got over, so that I can add few words to my draft. I slept late and woke up early, so that I can write some more. Just to write a word or two, I sacrificed those enjoyments, those celebrations and those outings.
I had always been adamant with what I do. I don’t keep things half done. I had story in me, I had story to be told and to be read by the people. I had the source of inspiration right with me. I feel everybody is writer in their heart, they just need inspiration to write. Most parts of the book are inspired by the real life experiences. Most of the time, I keep observing something in someone, so that I can draw inspiration to build up my character. I listen carefully when people speak, so that I know how to make my conversation appear real. In one way or other, I was observing different people, differently. It was interesting.
I developed some fictitious characters with which I developed attachment. Some of them I loved from the depth of my heart. It is madness to laugh and cry with the character I developed. Once I developed the character, I promised them to do the justice by giving equal share of space in my book so that each one of them contributes equally in developing the plot. Isn’t it crazy to pull out the paper and scribble in between the conversation with your friend? I always kept a paper and pen in my pocket, so that I can scribble the idea as and when it strikes my head. Sometimes, I wrote some points waking up in the middle of night.
I know, in Bhutan, to write and publish a book is the easiest way to go bankrupt. But I really don’t care about the money. I would be happy if some of the readers read it and give me the honest feedback. I am so impatient of keeping it in the desktop as soft copy. My hand itches to print it out and make it available in the market. But I wanted to do the justice by putting in enough effort so that it becomes worth reading.