[Mayhem]

I have some time on my hand, and I want to dedicate it to hone my writing skills. I feel I could even make a career out of it.
I can write articles, even short stories but I want to learn how to write novels.
But I'm an amateur, I don't have any work to show..
So what I mean is I want to be serious about it.

[CleanSlate]

Is English your first language?

[Mayhem]

CleanSlate Wrote:

Is English your first language?

No, sir. It's Hindi. But I'm going to work on both.
My focus will be more on English though.

[GlobalMan]

Here is a relevant forum post worth reading:

thread-55951...07080.html

[Mayhem]

(06-23-2017 05:17 AM)GlobalMan Wrote:  

Here is a relevant forum post worth reading:

thread-55951...07080.html

Thank you!

[Mayhem]

I think when I said, I could even make a career out of it, I gave the wrong impression. I should've said, I even want to make a career out of it. I'm 19.

Okay now with the tips from The Lizard of Oz, I'm inspired to write. You guys can analyze it and judge whether I used the tips correctly or failed.
Here it is,

Didn't get in

It's been a year now since the day I went to Delhi, I had an entrance exam for the Delhi University, which is an prestigious institution and well known for its successful alumni. It's surrounded by roads that connect each building, it is large and crowded, so there are many buildings that are not related to the university in any manner.
I got on the train at around 10 am, and spent good four hours sitting between two men, one around my age, 20, curly hair, wearing a stripped t shirt, he had a bagpack on his lap and there was a newspaper in its side pocket. He was already there but the other man came around an hour or two later, a fat man, making an already miserable train ride more miserable as we all sat on a set of three combined chairs. Blue chairs.
Around the third hour, I couldn't take it any more, my feet were numb. I just wanted to stand up. But I just sat there of course.

When I got off the train, I started walking towards my left side, where I could see the stairs going up and down. I checked my bag out of habit, whether it was zipped up or open. I patted my pant pockets to feel the phone and money, which was not inside a wallet as I didn't have a wallet.
I saw both sides and started walking towards the side where most people were headed. Climbed down the stairs, I could see the metro station, I had to go by the metro train now, which are faster trains connecting key places of Delhi. It took me good 10-20 minutes to finally get a token.

My metro was on platform 2, doors opened, got in, AC was on, clean seats, people sitting quietly, too quite, too cold for me. I had to stand, a few more people were standing. Peeking through the glass doors at trees, highways. I was staring at the digital map, where lights were beeping on names of station to station. I thought the first station will come after the last station, as that's what the map indicated, I was wrong. Nice security guard lady, let me get on the next train using the same token or I was fucked, I had a good one hour lead and now I was running late.
When I got off the under ground metro and came outside, after multiple more stairs, it was raining.
The map on my phone was obviously useless now as internet was too slow, but people were helpful. I was running now when I saw the Gate which read, 'Arts Block 3'.
I showed my admit card at the gate, inside, two buildings faced each other, a statue of someone in the middle, I could feel the nervousness of the students around me or maybe it was me. I didn't check out even a single girl that day so when I was sitting in the exam hall, I saw the faces, short skirts, I'll be seeing this everyday, sitting with them everyday. Good days await!
I don't even know how to cook, it would be difficult to find a room on rent here, but I'll figure something out.
I was running again, it was raining again. And It was a race against time again. 6.30 pm. Outside the metro a long line of people had emerged. I tried to cut the line, but was sent back everytime. No buses were stopping, got in an e-ricksaw, got off at the next station. It was crowded, inside this time. Came out, gave 200 bucks to the first auto-rickshaw (a black-yellow and small car with 3 tires) -driver,
Told him I had to go to Railway station, he says, there's too much traffic that way, I said, I really need you to take me to the railway station, jumped in. Hurry now! Please. 7.00 pm.
I couldn't do anything about it anyway, I was hungry, ate for the first time the whole day - my lunch.
Threw my bag on the counter and picked it up when it came out the security check, somehow I had got there on time. 7.30 pm. The train started running as soon as I aboarded it. This was a different train, expensive ticket, tasted the best water in a bottle that day, it was a 3 course meal, first time in my life. I wanted to capture this moment, never forget this feeling, it felt like I was rich.

The result came, got 130, didn't even get to the interview round.

[Nonpareil]

Wanna be a good writer? Become a good reader.

[Lunostrelki]

In writing, structure usually beats diction. You can learn more words and improve your understanding of grammar by reading a lot, but to produce anything worth reading you should make a dedicated effort to study the underlying principles of storytelling and essaywriting.

[Baphomet]

Mayhem,

Part of being a good writer is using correct grammar and punctuation. The sample you posted has a large number of those types of errors. I would suggest spending some additional time learning basic English grammar and punctuation.

Becoming a successful writer is a difficult road. Good luck.

[Mayhem]

Thank you all.

It's been quite some time since I last read a book.
I'm going to start reading the Yukio Mishima book, Spring Snow, now.

It would be a great help if someone could correct my grammar in the story just for the first sentence only, to help me better understand the seriousness of the problem.

I've found these 7 principles of storytelling on a website :
1. The Story Should Matter
2. The Story Should Have Conflict
3. The Story Should Be About Life, Not Story of Your Life
4. The Story Should Be Honest
5. The Story’s Power Lies in Connection
6. The Story Should Paint a Picture
7. The Story Should Reveal Something

Are they accurate? And was my story missing all of these above principles?

[Mayhem]

Delete. (double post)

[SamuelBRoberts]

The problem is a serious one.

I don't do free copyediting, so you'll just have to take my word for it, but go study harder.

[Mayhem]

(06-23-2017 10:59 AM)SamuelBRoberts Wrote:  

The problem is a serious one.

I don't do free copyediting, so you'll just have to take my word for it, but go study harder.

I'll take your word for it then.

[PapayaTapper]

Writing is easy. Writing well is incredibly hard.

Becoming a professional at anything takes dedication, and perseverance.

I know several professional writers (mostly entertainment industry) and they have one thing in common. They write every day.

Even when you dont think you have anything to write about...write about that.

[churros]

Tip #1. Stop writing about yourself. Nowadays everyone seems to think good writing is their diary. Learn to write about other people before you look in the mirror. It's the only way to avoid pointless solipsism. As a reader, why should I care about your "personal experiences"? If these experiences are not universally valuable, they are not valuable at all.

[The Lizard of Oz]

(06-23-2017 07:47 AM)Mayhem Wrote:  

Didn't get in

It's been a year now since the day I went to Delhi, I had an entrance exam for the Delhi University, which is an prestigious institution and well known for its successful alumni. It's surrounded by roads that connect each building, it is large and crowded, so there are many buildings that are not related to the university in any manner.
I got on the train at around 10 am, and spent good four hours sitting between two men, one around my age, 20, curly hair, wearing a stripped t shirt, he had a bagpack on his lap and there was a newspaper in its side pocket. He was already there but the other man came around an hour or two later, a fat man, making an already miserable train ride more miserable as we all sat on a set of three combined chairs. Blue chairs.
Around the third hour, I couldn't take it any more, my feet were numb. I just wanted to stand up. But I just sat there of course.

When I got off the train, I started walking towards my left side, where I could see the stairs going up and down. I checked my bag out of habit, whether it was zipped up or open. I patted my pant pockets to feel the phone and money, which was not inside a wallet as I didn't have a wallet.
I saw both sides and started walking towards the side where most people were headed. Climbed down the stairs, I could see the metro station, I had to go by the metro train now, which are faster trains connecting key places of Delhi. It took me good 10-20 minutes to finally get a token.

My metro was on platform 2, doors opened, got in, AC was on, clean seats, people sitting quietly, too quite, too cold for me. I had to stand, a few more people were standing. Peeking through the glass doors at trees, highways. I was staring at the digital map, where lights were beeping on names of station to station. I thought the first station will come after the last station, as that's what the map indicated, I was wrong. Nice security guard lady, let me get on the next train using the same token or I was fucked, I had a good one hour lead and now I was running late.
When I got off the under ground metro and came outside, after multiple more stairs, it was raining.
The map on my phone was obviously useless now as internet was too slow, but people were helpful. I was running now when I saw the Gate which read, 'Arts Block 3'.
I showed my admit card at the gate, inside, two buildings faced each other, a statue of someone in the middle, I could feel the nervousness of the students around me or maybe it was me. I didn't check out even a single girl that day so when I was sitting in the exam hall, I saw the faces, short skirts, I'll be seeing this everyday, sitting with them everyday. Good days await!
I don't even know how to cook, it would be difficult to find a room on rent here, but I'll figure something out.
I was running again, it was raining again. And It was a race against time again. 6.30 pm. Outside the metro a long line of people had emerged. I tried to cut the line, but was sent back everytime. No buses were stopping, got in an e-ricksaw, got off at the next station. It was crowded, inside this time. Came out, gave 200 bucks to the first auto-rickshaw (a black-yellow and small car with 3 tires) -driver,
Told him I had to go to Railway station, he says, there's too much traffic that way, I said, I really need you to take me to the railway station, jumped in. Hurry now! Please. 7.00 pm.
I couldn't do anything about it anyway, I was hungry, ate for the first time the whole day - my lunch.
Threw my bag on the counter and picked it up when it came out the security check, somehow I had got there on time. 7.30 pm. The train started running as soon as I aboarded it. This was a different train, expensive ticket, tasted the best water in a bottle that day, it was a 3 course meal, first time in my life. I wanted to capture this moment, never forget this feeling, it felt like I was rich.

The result came, got 130, didn't even get to the interview round.

This is a very good piece of writing. It gave me a strong feeling of this day in your life, a life that is so different from mine. The passages where you write directly about your emotions are excellent:

I showed my admit card at the gate, inside, two buildings faced each other, a statue of someone in the middle, I could feel the nervousness of the students around me or maybe it was me. I didn't check out even a single girl that day so when I was sitting in the exam hall, I saw the faces, short skirts, I'll be seeing this everyday, sitting with them everyday. Good days await!

The little phrase "short skirts" is what makes this passage, it is a felt detail that is so full of hope and desire and therefore so expressive.

This was a different train, expensive ticket, tasted the best water in a bottle that day, it was a 3 course meal, first time in my life. I wanted to capture this moment, never forget this feeling, it felt like I was rich.

Here, the detail that makes this passage is "the best water in a bottle". I can almost feel how good that clean rich man's water must have tasted after the long day.

By contrast, this is not as good:

I got on the train at around 10 am, and spent good four hours sitting between two men, one around my age, 20, curly hair, wearing a stripped t shirt, he had a bagpack on his lap and there was a newspaper in its side pocket.

You're adding details here but they didn't mean anything to you, so they are dead on the page. You didn't really care about the guy's curly hair, striped t-shirt, backpack, or newspaper; you're just writing them down because you think you're supposed to "describe" things. But if you describe things that you don't care about, no one else will care either. So just leave them out.

There are some grammatical errors in the text, but you will be able to correct them as you improve your English.

Thank you again for writing this little passage, I found it memorable.

[Mayhem]

Thank you sir, i did struggle there. So the newspaper bit, I was looking to read the current events, I had a newspaper too, it was my weak spot, questions related to current events were going to come in the test. When he took out his newspaper, I could clearly see it had better quality content than mine, more important news. I left this bit out maybe by mistake or maybe because the questions weren't important to me anymore. At that time they held immense important though.
Guess in which section did I scored the least?

I've realized I should be writing as a third person in the text, I thought that was just for formal letters.
I did find some silly grammatical errors which I could've avoided.
Like in the first line of this thread, it should've been, 'I have got some time on my hands'. Very good first impression.
So I found a proofreadbot, it said I shouldn't use negative words or start sentences with it's, avoid ('s), refer to man as person.
I downloaded some grammar test apps, I'm just scoring 60%, back to school I guess. I've concluded my school teachers were too lenient.

I will write everyday, but how often should I show what I've written to you here?

[Mayhem]

Here I try to write from someone else's perspective. He's an RVF member, whom I do not know personally, but love all his posts and mean no disrespect by this post.
What I want to know is, have I made alot of grammatical errors in this too?

Just another day

The pieces of architecture joined together and made a long line down the road, which seems to look like a stream of water fall, each piece is getting smaller the farther down it goes, on either side. People going to work, following their daily route, holding a cup of coffee, staring at their emails, making calls. The pavement is still damp. Cars are moving at their steady pace, red buses, one could see the bridge in horizon touching the clouds.

A man with sleek parted yet wavy hair, suited down, standing tall, with a face that tells one that he gets what he wants, when he wants, walks out the black apartment door and joins the crowd.
He plans to bring a girl home. He is thinking out loud, "I am going to use tortillas as bait again this time, it worked like a charm last night."
A girl neither too tall nor too short, yoga pants, sports brassière, jogs past him, the sweet smell of her sweat throws him off guard. Instantly his route is changed. When she finally stops at the traffic light, he stands next to her and says with a smirk, "You left some sweat on my suit back there." "What?", She responds. "I said, you left some sweat on my suit." - "I am sorry, my hair swings alot when I run." "It is alright, are you from around here?" - "yes, just across the corner in the next street." "How about the two of us go get a coffee or something? You look like you are done jogging for the day." -(giggles) "okay."
*At the coffee shop*
"Do you think I look like a man who can make delicious tortillas?"
-"Maybe, how old are you?"
"39."
-"I'm 19. can you make tortillas?"
"Yes, my grandma taught me."
-"aww"
"(Ha!) Well, would you like to taste it tonight?"
-"sure, but just that, nothing more is going to happen."
"(Ha! too easy) I promise."
-"okay, well thanks for the coffee."
"Want to exchange numbers? tell me your number, I will call so you can get mine."
-"it's xxx-xxxx"
She waves her hand while he sees her vanish into the street through the glass window, then he goes to his friend, who was watching this whole episode from a few seats apart.
"Yeah so what do you need help with this time, son?"
After helping out his friend with his diet problem and prepping him up for his first date tonight after 12 years! He goes to pick up his suit from the dry cleaners, there he flirts with the girl who works there and cleans his bedsheets for free. She blushes everytime he tells her that she's the best bedsheet cleaner in the world.

[Leonard D Neubache]

I would suggest you buy books in large print where possible and use page markers and highlighters to reference parts you found particularly compelling, eloquent or poetic. Write notes in the spaces between the lines about why that part was important and how it will help with your own writing.

You might not reference the books again but the act of marking those passages and writing the notes will engrave their values in your mind.

For someone who uses English as a second language this could be particularly beneficial.

[Mayhem]

(06-24-2017 11:16 AM)Leonard D Neubache Wrote:  

I would suggest you buy books in large print where possible and use page markers and highlighters to reference parts you found particularly compelling, eloquent or poetic. Write notes in the spaces between the lines about why that part was important and how it will help with your own writing.

You might not reference the books again but the act of marking those passages and writing the notes will engrave their values in your mind.

For someone who uses English as a second language this could be particularly beneficial.

Okay, I will try this.

[The Lizard of Oz]

(06-24-2017 02:34 AM)Mayhem Wrote:  

Thank you sir, i did struggle there. So the newspaper bit, I was looking to read the current events, I had a newspaper too, it was my weak spot, questions related to current events were going to come in the test. When he took out his newspaper, I could clearly see it had better quality content than mine, more important news. I left this bit out maybe by mistake or maybe because the questions weren't important to me anymore. At that time they held immense important though.
Guess in which section did I scored the least?

The part about your having a newspaper and the other guy's newspaper having "better quality content than mine, more important than mine" should have been in the story. It's a striking observation and it would make that part of it (which as I said was the least good part) come alive. This is a good lesson for you: always remember what was important to you at the time and put that in. Have no shame, don't be embarrassed because it's not important to you now and you think maybe it "shouldn't" be. Remember the feeling you had then, it's the only thing that will make the reader feel anything.

(06-24-2017 02:34 AM)Mayhem Wrote:  

I've realized I should be writing as a third person in the text, I thought that was just for formal letters.

There is ZERO need for you to write in third person. Your first person is great.

Related to this, disregard the advice that you should be writing about other people. You are young and don't know about other people's experiences so why would you write about them? Write only about what you know and care about. Write from the kind of feeling that you had when you wrote about the day of your failed exam.

Your other piece about your RVF idol is of no particular interest. It reads like the fantasy it is. It's not bad but there is nothing really good about it except the last sentence.

She blushes everytime he tells her that she's the best bedsheet cleaner in the world.

This is good because the idea probably means something to you.

You should trust your instincts and your true nature, both for better and for worse. Do not fear any part of it, do not fear expressing your true emotions even when you are ashamed of them. But never try to manufacture emotion or pretend to care about something you don't care about. Nothing kills writing faster than that.

Realize that you are already a better writer than most people who try to give you advice, no matter how well-intentioned, because you are able to convey emotion in narrative, something that is rare. So be careful about whose advice to follow. Most advice about writing is very bad.

(06-24-2017 02:34 AM)Mayhem Wrote:  

I did find some silly grammatical errors which I could've avoided.
Like in the first line of this thread, it should've been, 'I have got some time on my hands'. Very good first impression.
So I found a proofreadbot, it said I shouldn't use negative words or start sentences with it's, avoid ('s), refer to man as person.
I downloaded some grammar test apps, I'm just scoring 60%, back to school I guess. I've concluded my school teachers were too lenient.

I will write everyday, but how often should I show what I've written to you here?

Keep practicing and your grammar will get better. You are young, it will happen quickly. It's no big deal.

Show your writing here as often as you like but don't force it. Do not feel obliged to write, only do it if you are interested in writing about something at least a little -- a little is all that is required but it is required.

Be very skeptical about other writers, approach them with all the native cruelty of youth. Instead of trying to emulate them, always look for flaws and mistakes. That is how you really learn.

[Slam]

Write as much as you can. If your end goal is to write novels, then focus on narrative writing.

You could start a 'short stories' blog to get greater feedback on your work, then expand to publishing longer stories in parts. I know of some fiction writers who write narratives for posts on their blog, and then afterwards compile them into a book (with some editing and additions).

[Mayhem]

(06-24-2017 07:27 PM)Slam Wrote:  

Write as much as you can. If your end goal is to write novels, then focus on narrative writing.

You could start a 'short stories' blog to get greater feedback on your work, then expand to publishing longer stories in parts. I know of some fiction writers who write narratives for posts on their blog, and then afterwards compile them into a book (with some editing and additions).

I didn't buy a domain but what do you think about this?
https://mayhemwriting.blogspot.in/
I'm not sure how I'd get an audience there though.

[Mayhem]

Here I try to narrate a story from my perspective talking about other people.

Every Day In My School Bus

When I was in the 11th grade I used to stare at a girl in the school bus where we sat opposite to each other. There was a long seat in the middle and towards the driver's compartment there was a big spare tire attached. I think it would be more accurate if it was called a school truck. It always ran on an average speed of 40 kmph. It was roughly a 30-40 minutes ride. It made that annoying noise that trucks make but I got used to it. There was a wire mesh acting as a wall on the front and the back side but we could see through it, we crossed the highway everyday, the remaining two sides and the roof were covered by a cloth through which some water dripped on rainy days. Whenever someone was able to steal a chalk from their classes they wrote their names on the clothed wall. They even wrote 'girls' on girls side and vice versa. Although there was a hook above everyone's head attached to the metal body of the truck for the purpose, we all liked to place our bags on our laps and the bags got lighter every year which was nice. Someone was always sitting with the driver. Some children got to sit behind them in a special seat but I never got to sit there. The seats were just a long bench with a long cushion that had taken a lot of wear and tear. The floor was made of metal and was always covered in dust but not too much though. I tried to polish my shoes every day and they always got dirty due to someone stepping on them if I was not able to get a seat on any particular day. In the morning I had to adjust as my stop came third so seats were nearly full but I managed to sit down in between my friends and that's how closely we sat. I liked sitting at the corner as the most windy air came from there, it was a sweet relief on summer days and if I didn't get there on time I would find someone else sitting there at the time of returning home. The bus was always full of school children of all grades some standing some sitting every day. She liked to sit in the middle, most days she would already be in the bus before I'd arrive and I liked that. Her stop came earlier. She used to get off earlier. I believed looking at her face made my day. I used to steal glances very carefully you could say we took turns. She was a year older than me and that should give you an idea why I was attracted to her. There was a conductor in the bus with a whistle which was blown at every stop and sometimes he would help little children cross the road. I caught her staring back every day, she had long black hair tied in a pony tail but not always, bit curly and a bit straight. Her eyes gave me the impression that she used to study late at nights yet one could not easily point that out. Her lips were just the way I happen to like, full and there was a dot-like mole below her lower lip on one side. I used to stare mostly below her neck without getting caught. But I have come to the conclusion that one can tell when someone is staring at them. Especially girls. She had a thin waist and her legs were covered halfway by long socks but some room was left before they could reach the knees. Wearing short skirts was not allowed at our school.


Although some thoughtful girls used to wear them short, I'm talking about the girl whom I almost said I love you to in the 8th grade, she was a newcomer, a new teacher's daughter and her skin was fairer than what I normally got to see. One day she was sitting on the staircase and tying her shoelaces, her legs were wide open which lifted her skirt up, stretched from knee to knee and I could see the white underwear underneath and when a few other boys also gathered up to catch a glance then I walked away. One time she touched my cheek pointing out a whitish mark that used to appear every winter then and I don't know why. So to return the favour I touched her hair and told her they felt like a bird's nest.

I felt very strongly about her at two different occasions. Once when we were playing truth, dare, and stare in the class and I was supposed to stare at her. She stared right back for about a full minute and then gave me a flying kiss. The second time was when she was trying to enter the class and I was blocking her path, she tried to force her way in and I could feel her shirt pressing against me. After a period or two passed, I was sitting on the first bench and she came in front of me, started dusting the duster outside the window with one hand so she had to bend a little and I could see a little something under her white shirt. She also used to teach me how to play the harmonium in the music room where I was once made to sing for the whole period as I was a part of some choir other than school choir. A good friend of mine was in the latter, when I got in a fight with him I banged his head on the desk and we liked to call a girl in class our sister, who caught me staring at the girl mentioned above and I felt ashamed as she used get us chocolates and chips during the recess many a times while that made me think she might be coming from a rich family. She actually just used to get the money in small parts from everyone in her big family. She did get caught.

It was about time my friends pressurized me to go talk to the girl. The chocolate had melted as I waited till noon. There was a footpath next to where the cars were parked and everyone was going home. On the second attempt I came out of hiding, stood in front of her and gave her the melted chocolate just as a friend. I couldn't see clearly as people walked past me and so did she.

I think she had her friend with her who was always with her and who I would say was a shy person. She had a small face, I could not figure out her age, she was short, she too wore above knee length skirts and her mother was a teacher too. The other person with her was her younger sister who once kicked me for some reason and was made to apologize by her sister. I saw her eating the melted chocolate with my own eyes when I caught a glimpse of them about to walk out the school gate. My friends didn't say anything at that time but I'm sure they had a lot to say.

One of them had small eyes that always appeared to be half closed. He was shorter than me, he used to lie alot and he had a treehouse which he could never show us for some reason. We played football together for about four years, I started as a defender but then became a winger and when he started forgetting to return the things that he borrowed from me on time I stopped being his friend. The other friend was a bit taller and people often said we looked like brothers. He once stayed at my home the day before his birthday. When we fought I punched him in the face as he wouldn't stop kicking me. He didn't talk to me after that at the tuition we had an hour later. The teacher there taught us science and often gave me an erection though she didn't have a thin waist.

There were two girls at that tuition from our school both had their hometown in the hilly areas. One had a better face than the other. I used to walk them home when the classes would end as it got dark outside. I could only go with one of them as their homes were in opposite direction and so sometimes one had to go alone or with other friends. One of them once tried to tell me something as I stood there listening to her for about three or four minutes while my friends watched us from a distance. She was short and had pimples which weren't that clear on her almost round face. One day she was wearing a loose round neck top, writing her notes as me and my friend stared. That day or the next, when I was walking her home I had to put my hands in my pants pockets and when I reached home I immediately headed for the bathroom.

The other one had long hair with fringes, small eyes and a heart shaped face. When she started going by the same school bus as mine we sat in the middle seat with our backs touching. There wasn't much room so she used to ask me to give her some space. I used to quickly sit at the seat end at first but after the bus started moving we moved our backs closer. Her back used to get warmed up quite a bit. I didn't want to think too much about her as one of my friends liked her. He was short and started going to gym at an early age. He had also started shaving, he owned a trimmer and he showed it to me once. He was very protective of his brother. I think we became friends because of that girl. One day he was irritating me maybe even slapped me so I punched his nose, it started bleeding and I ran as farther away from him as much that crowded bus allowed. Before my stop came I think I apologized to him. When we were in the 11th grade, he got depressed and started practicing meditation. I did try to motivate him.

The girl I used to stare at in the bus had a boyfriend who was in my class and repeating a year. He had a motorcycle. One day I skipped the last class and went to the bus early, it had stairs in the back and that was the only way in, standing at the bus gate when I peeked in, I saw her crying, I stood there but I could not think of something to say to her so I climbed down the stairs and walked away. I was angry at myself. I think I avoided eye contact with her for some time. I almost failed the 11th grade and she was the school topper in her subjects. I decided I would just focus on my studies the following year.

One day I saw a girl in the basketball court. I found out she was a year younger than me and on closer inspection one could tell she wore a bit of make-up.

In our school, there was a water cooler near the girls washroom on both ends of the building on each floor, only two or three persons could stand in front of it at a time and it was like a small room with walls on only two sides. I was drinking water from it, standing on the right hand side, when I moved away from it and turned my head I found her staring at my face. I freezed. After around 30 seconds passed I walked away. I know she had brown eyes and some hair were sticking to her face which was red, so her makeup was ruined, she had a cute nose, it appeared as though she was breathing heavily and so one could tell she just came straight from the basketball court.

We walked out the corridor and when we came out of the building my friend was saying something to me. I think he found this little incident fascinating. I did feel a false pride until a voice inside me started saying some disheartening things. I had to tell myself that the girl from the class was always too open with every other guy, the girl from the bus had a boyfriend and this one was just too young.

[The Lizard of Oz]

Mayhem, this is not good at all. The problem is that the writing is too disorganized and difficult to follow. It's hard to even finish reading the text even though it's not that long, because it's chaotic and disorienting.

Remember my very first writing tip:

Quote:

When writing, aim for two things: clarity and flow.

Both of these are missing from what you wrote above, which makes it close to unreadable.

The real problem is that there is no narrative arc to what you are writing about. Compare this to your (again, excellent and memorable) piece about the day of the failed exam. The narrative there has a natural flow: you are going to Delhi to take the exam, you get on the train, you come to the city, you find the university etc. All the descriptive and emotional aspects of the story accrue to it in the course of that narrative flow. You didn't even need to work very hard to organize those paragraphs because the narrative propelled you forward and you just remembered the things you felt and saw along the way but without getting distracted from the main thread.

The narrative flow of a story does not have to be simple -- it can go back and forth in time, it can have flashbacks, interruptions, stories that run on parallel tracks, etc (though I would not recommend any of these things to a beginner and they are really not required in most cases). But you have to know what the narrative flow is at any time and follow it. Otherwise you are just rambling and unstructured rambling loses the reader's interest very quickly.

You chose a subject that is too vast (your adolescence, relations to girls and to other boys) and your narrative got swallowed up by it. Everywhere you turn there is a new memory or recollection, and you ended up getting lost in them. You are trying to cram all these things into a few paragraphs and as a result none of them really stand out or cohere into something of interest.

Here is an exercise for you:

-- Find a *specific story* from that period that moves you. Maybe something involving a particular girl and the history of your relation to her.

-- Tell that story from beginning to end. Along the way you should fill in all the necessary details that will allow the reader to form a picture in his mind of what is happening but do not go on endless digressions about things unrelated to the flow of the main story.

-- Make sure that you do not have excessively long paragraphs (another one of my writing tips). Find a good logical place to break off each paragraph once it starts getting too long.

-- It's possible that along the way, as you are telling this story, your memory will bring other interesting recollections into your mind. Make note of them, but do not attempt to put them all into this story. You should have the discipline to say to yourself: "I will talk about XYZ another time". The reader will feel that there is a sense of depth to your narrative, that there are many things you are not talking about, but he will not get distracted -- it will just be an impression of unspoken depth and background.

****************

In general, a good discipline for you will be to post a piece of writing here once a week. You may write various things during this week, of course; choose the best of them and then post it here. It's important for you to start developing judgment about what you write, in fact you should be your own harshest judge. Having to choose which of the different pieces is the best one and most worth posting will start teaching you this.

Post nothing here until next Sunday and then post your best piece of the week on Sunday (whether it's the one that resulted from the above exercise, or something else).