Expectations Of Writers And Readers

glasses-1246611__340

When a writer puts the first word on paper; a dream world opens before him, a world that ignites his creativity as well as fantasy. Former makes him produce his magnificent work but the latter makes him a celebrity overnight (in his dreams.)

You may be writing out of creative compulsions or the satisfaction of venting your voice could be your trigger, most writers harbor a secret wish – to be read, to be reviewed and admired. Admiration comes easily but you never know how hypocritical it is. Reality hits you when you see how much money you are earning from your books.

You may stay determined with the cliché – “never give up” but when you read others’ work and feel that many average books are overflowing with 5 star reviews; you wonder whether something is wrong with you when you feel like dropping a book that has been fetching 5 stars… (for whatever reasons!)

However, there are critical readers too. They know what they want, their discerning eye can’t be escaped. Their expectations are immeasurable.

You think you have the most original ideas, you would be the best seller but your readers feel you ramble, you repeat and the setting of your story is vague or the title of your book is a misnomer.youtuber-2838945__340

You think you write perfect English, your beta readers are excellent helpers and you have a long list of friends under the acknowledgements but your readers find typos and structural errors in your book.

Each reader expects an amazing book; he doesn’t want to think what were your compulsions or exhaustions. He doesn’t want to buy your excuses. He doesn’t want to digest your lack of finances for hiring an astute editor. All readers are not writers and they have every right to judge your book according to their own parameters. All readers are not kind enough to overlook imperfections in the plot, style of writing or characterization.

Then there are writers who focus on money. They write just what sells. The day writing becomes a chore for you, you are no longer a writer, and you become a businessperson, churning out book after book, devoid of any real emotion.

Your writing may not be “like a windowpane” or “impenetrable fog” but it has to be an “exploration,” it has to “enrich the life of those who read it.” If it is just inconsequential chitchat between a few characters, going around in circles, you may befool a few readers but not all.

Robert Frost’s definition is worth pondering: “The ear is the only true writer and the only true reader. I know people who read without hearing the sentence sounds and they were the fastest readers. Eye readers we call them. They get the meaning by glances. But they are bad readers because they miss the best part of what a good writer puts into his work.”

Are you an “eye reader” or a critical reader? Do you drop a book if you don’t like it? What do you expect from your readers?

Thank you for reading this. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

If you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Balroop Singh.

 

Advertisements

No Time to Grieve

 

arid-1866541__340

A sea of sand stood before him
Time froze as he trudged on wearily
Without knowing his destination
Each step a specious summon

Sand had swallowed friends and family
The best years of his life drowned
In the moments of morbid dismay
Last victim fell at noon

Yet a mirage waved her scarf
Spreading her dark tresses
Blinded by the glittery tufts
He walked into the arms of illusion

A dream tugged at his heart
Shrieking – do we ever perish?
A race against time –
No time to grieve.
© Balroop Singh, September 2019

You can click here for more poetry.

Check my latest book release: Moments We Love

If  you have liked this poem, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Thank you for your support. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

The Moon #Flashfiction

 

moon-1275126__340
Pixabay image

I looked around and smiled with glee, wondering how did it all change? A lifetime dream had been accomplished! I sat in my round house, disseminating silvery light. Children sat around me in a semi-circle, awed by the stories I could tell them, one after the other. My adventure in the ocean was the favorite one, and evoked a thousand questions.

“How could you traverse it?”

“Didn’t you get lost?”

“Yes, I did,” I mused, “I couldn’t get back.”

I don’t know how many days had passed as I drifted between slumber and consciousness. All pain had dissipated when I saw the face of a nurse who asked how I was feeling. I told her I dreamt I was the moon and had a magnificent view of the earth from space. Green and blue colors added charm to my stories. I closed my eyes, anticipating the same serenity.

#Flashfiction inspired from dVerse prompt: “I dreamt I was the moon.”

If you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Thank you for your support. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

Spring Of Our Dreams

chga5nrveaazefm-2

When I bowed my head in penitence
You didn’t even look at me
I whispered your favorite trill
You didn’t respond with usual thrill

Fresh leaves sparkle all around us
Blooming blossoms emit fragrance
They are smiling at your conceit
Your high headedness is so concrete!

Are you thinking of a new melody?
To match the surreal spring air
Are you waiting for a new friend?
To flutter with pure pretend

Your songs have lost their passion
The disconnect is dawdling between us
I am trying to understand this attitude
What is your problem dude?

Is it the angst against modern melodies?
Is it the effect of this chaotic cacophony?
Are you sinking into a gloomy gorge?
Or just waiting for a kinder world

The world of our reveries
Where love would be generous
Where equality won’t be a façade
Peace and tolerance – not a mere maud!

© Balroop Singh

All rights reserved.

You can click on Sublime Shadows of Life by Balroop Singh to read more such poems.

If you have liked this poem, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Thank you for your support. Please add your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

Path That Haunts

Path that haunts

Drifting in and out of dreams
An alley…a pathway… a trail
So familiar yet so confusing
Always haunts…beckons to be followed.
 
With eagerness to explore it
Often tracked in dreams, deep down
It stirs the soul, irks the mind, entreats it
To walk the alley once more!
 
Could this unlock the secrets?
Could it put in perspective the missing links
Of a troubled, tempestuous life
That has been revealed through bizarre dreams?
 
Yet the trail is obscure, the quest to embark
Unfulfilled, looking for that alley… futile!
Meaningless search follows…
Were there wrong turnings?
 
Is it spiritual awakening?
© Balroop Singh.
All rights reserved.

You can click on Sublime Shadows of Life by Balroop Singh to read more such poems.

If you have liked this poem, please share it at your favorite social networks.
Thank you for your support. Please share your reflections, they are much appreciated.