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Friday, August 12, 2011

What is it like to be a writer?

In preparation for the long Independence Day weekend, I ordered three books from Flipkart last Sunday, three books that I think I'm going to absolutely love reading: Fierce Pajamas: An Anthology Of Humor Writing From The New Yorker, by David Remnick and Henry Finder; Hitch-22: A Memoir, by Christopher Hitchens; and The Big Bookshelf: Sunil Sethi In Conversation With 30 Famous Authors by Sunil Sethi.

The Big Bookshelf and Hitch-22 arrived by courier three days ago. The first book I opened was The Big Bookshelf and Sethi's introduction itself alone worth the price of the book offered these fascinating insights into the world of some of the world's best-known writers:

The Bengali writer and social activist Mahasweta Devi felt the urgency to explore the oral legends surrounding the life of the Rani of Jhansi for her first book, a biography of the warrior-queen, with such intensity that "I borrowed money from relatives, got into a train, left behind a small baby with his father and went to Jhansi".

***

Whatever the motivation or their chosen route to writing, most authors professed an abiding passion for books from childhood. Reaching across to tap my knee, the novelist Nadine Gordimer, whose early education was patchy, admonished: "Reading, my dear, is the only training for a writer from a young age. You only become a writer by being a compulsive reader."

***

Asked what his advice to a young writer would be, the American travel writer and novelist Paul Theroux offered a tip: "Go away. Yes. Leave home, leave your parents and leave all the comforting things that hold you back... because if you stay... people will ask you what you are doing — what you are writing, what you are publishing. They ask you questions that you can't answer."

***

Here is the best-selling thriller writer Jeffrey Archer's regime that he briskly rapped out: "I write up to seventeen drafts. I get away for two months and I wake up at 5.30 in the morning. I write from six to eight and take a two-hour break, I write from ten until twelve and take a two-hour break, I again write from two until four, followed by another two-hour break, then I write from six until eight, light supper, go to bed at 9.30 or 10 and begin again at 5.30 the next day. Fifty days of that in a row."

***

The novelist Upamanyu Chatterjee, who leads a double life as a senior civil servant, sets himself a certain number of words a day, or how to resolve an idea or a problem in the plot, as a daily target. He writes every morning before leaving for office.

Returning home in the evening, "I sit down and peg away. Sometimes I achieve that target just before I go to bed."

Chatterjee takes about five years to complete a novel but there are others who take longer. It took Kiran Desai nearly seven years of a sequestered life to finish The Inheritance of Loss.

A more extreme example is that of the British-Pakistani fiction writer Nadeem Aslam who took more than eleven years to complete his prize-winning novel, Maps for Lovers.

Aslam grew up in a small town in Pakistan, attending an Urdu-medium school till the age of fourteen, when his family was forced to migrate to Britain to escape political persecution. "When I arrived in England my English was, 'This is a cat,'... My life was broken in half."

Instead of going to college, for many years he eked out a meagre living, working on building sites and in bars so that he could read in libraries. He would retreat into a private world to be able to write. "There were times when I draped the windows with black cloth. There was no phone, no TV, no radio, no newspapers and I just filled up the freezer with food and didn't leave the house for two and a half months."

***

IT'S RAINING BOOKS

You know how one thing leads to another.

Here I was, having lunch at the college yesterday and checking the "Writing Tools" blog on Poynter. I saw a reference to the new New York Times beta site, where a grammar link popped up. On the grammar site I saw a reference to some grammar blogs; one, especially, stood out and I noticed a little feature on a book, The Subversive Copy Editor: Advice from Chicago (or, How to Negotiate Good Relationships with Your Writers, Your Colleagues, and Yourself).

As I have noted, one thing led to another the book is now being shipped to me by Flipkart. Make that book No. 4 ordered on Flipkart in five days.

Want to know more about The Subversive Copy Editor? Go here.

The morality of mortality

English poet and novelist Stephen Spender was staying with fellow poet W.H. Auden when the latter received an invitation from the Times (London) asking him to write Spender's obituary. He told him as much at the breakfast table, asking roguishly, "Should you like anything said?"

Spender judged that this would not be the moment to tell Auden that he had already written his obituary for the same editor at the same paper.

— This little gem is from Hitch-22: A Memoir, by Christopher Hitchens, who writes in the book that he himself has never written an obituary of a still-living person because "I cannot, not even for ready money, write about the demise of a friend or colleague until Minerva's owl has taken wing, and I know that the darkness has actually come. I dare say that somebody, somewhere has already written my provisional death-notice".

(What a striking phrase that is about Minerva's owl taking wing, a reference to the philosopher Hegel's oft-quoted line: "Only when the dusk starts to fall does the owl of Minerva spread its wings and fly.")
  • Another must-read: Oriana Fallaci and the Art of the Interview: In a eulogy written for Vanity Fair, Christopher Hitchens recounts "his last visit with the tempestuous Italian journalist, and her last — never published — scoop, a sit-down with the Pope".

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Like crime novels? Here's a wide-ranging list...

...compiled by Jerry Pinto for Time Out Bengaluru: "Bloody murder".

I loved the nifty descriptions for each book in the list, but none more than this one for Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest:

You read this. Or you are reading it. Which?

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest is the final book in the Millennium trilogy, which kicked off with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and continued with The Girl Who Played with Fire. All three books have been phenomenally successful and each one has also been turned into a movie (they were telecast on HBO just last month). What makes this publishing feat poignant is the knowledge that the author died shortly after submitting all three manuscripts.

It is the stupendous popularity of the Millennium trilogy, then, that led to Jerry Pinto's writing that nine-word description for the last book in the series. How ingenious!

Are movie critics totally out of touch with popular taste?

This is the question posed by veteran film critic Anupama Chopra in a recent issue of Open. She writes in her regular column for the magazine that this question struck her after she gave Salman Khan's Ready a two-star rating because "the craft was shoddy, the plot was incoherent and the jokes, cheerfully low-IQ. It was Hindi cinema at its laziest best". Afterwards, she says, she was soundly abused on Twitter by Salman fans. She continues:

Meanwhile, the film reportedly made over Rs 13 crore in India on its first Friday — the biggest non-festive opening for a Bollywood film.

Which made me wonder: are we critics totally out of touch with popular taste? After years of watching movies, do we evolve into curmudgeons who are unable to enjoy anything? What is the function and relevance of our reviews?

She tries to answer those questions by elaborating on the role of the reviewer but she admits there is a disconnect between viewers and reviewers:

Leading critics thought The Hangover 2 was a tired rehash of the first film — it grossed around $ 338 million globally. [At] least one leading critic — Peter Travers in Rolling Stone — described Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides as a ‘giant turd’. It grossed over $700 million worldwide.  Or closer to home, most critics think that Anees Bazmee, the creator of Ready, No Problem and Thank You, is single-handedly lowering the bar in Bollywood, but that has never stopped audiences from flocking to theatres (refer to earlier grosses for Ready).

And then she rests her case by stating unequivocally that box office and quality are not necessarily linked. "My job is to be unconcerned with the former and consumed with the latter," she writes. "The rest is dross."

Every filmgoer should read this column to understand the angst of our serious movie critics. How depressing it must be to write for an audience that does not get it.

WATCHING READY, SAYS ANUPAMA CHOPRA, WAS A "SQUIRMY" EXPERIENCE.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Chetan Bhagat on how to take your English to the next level

CHETAN BHAGAT
I am not a big fan of Chetan Bhagat's books. 

I have to say this about Bhagat, though he has got young people reading. That is reason enough to admire him.

He seems to have his finger on the pulse when it comes to knowing the minds of young people and knowing what they like that is a real gift. And young people seem to identify with him. They seem to like the thought of a best-selling author who writes for them, not for a so-called elite readership.

In this context, advice from Chetan Bhagat on how to improve one's English is sure to be taken seriously by his numerous fans. Which is why The Times of India recently published Bhagat's five tips on how to take your English to the next level. If you think your English skills need polishing, these tips are sure to help:

1. Read something in English you enjoy. People may prescribe classics and you may look good reading them, but if you don't enjoy it, you won't absorb it. Typically, you will enjoy something that is slightly above your current level of English. And if that means comics instead of classics, so be it.

2. Watch English movies with English subtitles. Many TV channels have this now. Listen to the dialogue first. If you can't follow it, read the subtitle. Keep doing this until your dependence on subtitles declines.

3. Spend time with friends, relatives or colleagues who often speak in English. While you may not feel confident enough to keep pace with them, at least you can listen and understand them.

4. Create a group of people whose English is at your level. Meet every week and debate a current topic, making it compulsory to use as much English as possible.

5. Work on your inner confidence. There is a stupid arrogance in people who know English well and they often make fun of people who don't know it. Let that not deter you. Every mistake is a lesson learnt.

Remember, English is not a monster. It is a silly little language that is easier to learn than making good paranthas or driving a car in rush-hour Indian traffic. And once learnt, all the benefits of the globalized world it offers are yours for life!

Easy-to-practise advice offered in easy-to-understand language. That is the hallmark of Chetan Bhagat's writing. Is it any wonder he is so popular?

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Is Rupert Murdoch really the villain we make him out to be?

Perhaps, yes. But, as Aakar Patel points out in his Mint Lounge column, there are a few actually, quite a few good things journalists (and media students) will remember Murdoch for "even as he is attacked, rightly, for the sins of his employees at the News of the World".

Here is Aakar's intro:

To those who love and understand this profession, Rupert Murdoch is the world’s greatest newspaperman and its finest editor. Among those who have crafted newspapers, a rare and beautiful talent, he is without equal. He has defined without question all modern tabloid journalism but arguably also most of its broadsheet trade. This might appear strange, but he isn’t prejudiced in that sense and doesn’t discriminate between short, fun-loving newspapers and tall, prudish ones.

After that 24-karat intro, who will not want to read more? Go to Rupert Murdoch's lust for newspapers and learn why Aakar says Murdoch is the hero in the story of 20th century journalism.

Murder your darlings...

...and other great advice on writing from ten writers ranging from American journalist Dominick Dunne to writer and cartoonist Scott "Dilbert" Adams. Here's what they say:

1. Write one inch at a time
2. Finish your first draft
3. Get over it
4. Simplify
5. Murder your darlings
6. Lead with your best
7. Write with authority
8. Stand out as a real person
9. Remember to play
10. Show up for work

If you are interested in becoming a better writer, you are sure to benefit from paying attention to what the experts have to offer on the subject: Ten writers recall the best advice they ever received.

Which piece of advice is your favourite? My students know I'm a big fan of No. 5.
  • Re: "Murder your darlings" British literary editor and novelist Diana Athill has a slightly different take:
You don't always have to go so far as to murder your darlings—those turns of phrase or images of which you felt extra proud when they appeared on the page—but go back and look at them with a very beady eye. Almost always it turns out that they'd be better dead. (Not every little twinge of satisfaction is suspect—it's the ones which amount to a sort of smug glee you must watch out for.)

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

The best coverage of the "News of the World" scandal


AND ISN'T THAT A GREAT COVER?

And the best headline, too (inside pages): "Tabloid bites man". Read the cover story here to understand what really prompted Rupert Murdoch to shut down a 168-year-old newspaper.

(I have heard of and read about newspapers and magazines shutting down for business reasons mainly not enough readers so not enough advertising but this is the first time an owner has killed a newspaper because it was caught doing something wrong. And the saga is not over yet, as you will know from reading the newspapers every day.)
  • Newsweek, meanwhile, has a scoop that will be of great interest to journalists and media students. In a first-person account, the editor-in-chief of The Guardian, the newspaper that exposed the phone-hacking scandal, tells us how some dogged reporting by veteran journalist Nick Davies led to the brouhaha that now threatens a global media empire. Read the fascinating story here: "How we broke the Murdoch scandal".
ALAN RUSBRIDGER, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF OF THE GUARDIAN.
  • Photo courtesy: Newsweek

"What Mumbai spirit?"

That is the headline of a blog post on the New Yorker magazine website. Written by Naresh Fernandes after the Mumbai blasts on July 13, the piece gets right down to brass tacks in the opening paragraph itself:

Three hours after a bomb turned a bus stop in Dadar, in central Mumbai, into one of those ingenuously twisted metallic installations that the city’s minor sculptors so love, a murmuring crowd converged on a multiplex less than fifty metres away. What seemed to be the problem? “They’ve cancelled the 10 P.M. show of ‘Delhi Belly,’ ” a man in shorts with an angry demeanor explained. Surely no one had the stomach to watch the scatological sleeper hit on an evening on which three blasts in southern Mumbai had left eighteen people dead and about a hundred and thirty wounded? “These kinds of things happen all the time,” the man replied. “Why should we put our lives on hold just because there have been a few bomb blasts?”

As can be expected, this article did not go down well with some readers, who have been scathing in their comments.

Disclosure: I grew up in Mumbai (then known as Bombay) and lived there for 30 years. As such I am all for lauding the Mumbaikar's spirit. But human nature is such that we tend to (and need to) move on after a tragedy. In that context, Naresh Fernandes may not be far off the mark when he writes what he does in the concluding paragraph of his post.

Read the piece in its entirety (and the comments) here.
  • Thank you, Arpan Bhattacharyya (Class of 2010), for sending me the New Yorker link.


Thursday, July 7, 2011

Bajrangi and the case for "brand security"

Have you watched the new television ad for Center Fresh gum? The ad shows a bank being robbed. When the thief takes off, the staff starts screaming for security. To their surprise, the thief runs back in. He is the security guard, Bajrangi (see below).


I thought the ad by O&M was funny, clever, and so typical of Center Fresh. I was surprised, therefore, to read the comments by advertising expert Prathap Suthan in Mint. Suthan, who features regularly in the newspaper's Spot Light column, says if he had seen this film years ago, he would have "fallen down, broken my crown and come tumbling after".

He continues:

The production’s all right. The cast’s all right. And the acting, direction, grading, lighting and music is at par. It made me smile. But that was it. It didn’t make me ooze laughter. And it didn’t make me watch it online till I got sick.

And then he makes an important point, a point that should be noted by all those aspiring to an ad career:

I personally have an issue with crime as a brand core. Especially when crime is north-bound. Kidnappings. Heists. Scams. At a deeper level, it corrodes the brand from inside. Innocent fun is one thing. Making crass cool is arsenic. Of course, I’m not the defined target audience. But I happen to be more than a moron who watches television.

Suthan also elaborates on whether this particular strategy works for the brand and he explains how a brand can stand out in such a crowded segment. Read his views here.