This particular post carries words of wisdom about flash fiction from the writers and editors I interviewed last year – in order of inerviews: Tim Dicks, Anuradha Kumar, Benjamin C Krause, Hema Raman, Beate Sigriddaughter, OOnah V Joslin, Vanessa Gebbie, Nathan Rosen, Dipika Mukherjee and Angel Zapata.

Those who seriously write, especially flash fiction will find these excerpts useful for their writing lives in 2012. Take another look

Nuggets & Lessons from the Year Past

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As for me, 2011 went by pretty fast. I’m not sure why. I don’t think I wrote as much as I could or at least should have. I’ve lost many stories because I didn’t write them down. Ditto for poems. There are many reasons why I betrayed my Muse. Nevertheless it was a stupid thing to do, and yes, in 2012 I do intend to be more true to my Muse. At least jot down the ideas, phrases, sentences as they come, instead of relying on my memory – bad habit that one. But that’s not a resolution. I have no intention of fretting that I’m not writing enough. It’s alright.

A short holiday away from my family drove home the fact that I have many things to be thankful for. Really, really a lot; it’s a short but heavy list, and I thank the powers above for all that I have, today.  I also realised that I love writing, nay more than that, writing (for me) is living. But I am terrible at promoting myself, networking, entering into any kind of social relationship with a clear-cut motive in mind. Can’t do it. Even Facebooking becomes difficult for me at times. In today’s scenario, this is a serious setback. So what should I do? Change my skin? Can’t do that either. The hypocrisy would kill me!

Everything boils down to personal happiness and acceptance. There are things I am and am not. Stuff I can do and can not. That’s it. So I am giving up a few self-imposed deadlines. Why bother when my heart ain’t in it? I don’t know about other writers, but I take pleasure in being minutely involved with my house and family. Today I hand washed four floor-length curtains, and one set was wall to wall in width. Why? Because they are the delicate embroidered kind, which I wouldn’t trust even to the washing-machine’s delicate mode, and definitely not to the cleaner. More than that I enjoyed it. Yes. I’m this weird female that enjoys even the most menial of tasks at home. And cooking everything from scratch too. Like last week’s carrot halwa, cooked the old-fashioned way, slow and steady. I did it for my husband, the guy who’s been my partner for 32 years, because this is the season for Delhi carrots here in Chennai and he loves this dessert. When my kids are home I’ll do other non writerly things, apart from cooking food they love. Writing will take a back seat. Contentment won’t.

In 2012 I won’t let that old - ”oh dammit! I’m not writing!”- bug torment me any more. I don’t know where my writing will take me, if it’ll take me anywhere. But I do know where I won’t let it take me. Without my home and family I am nothing. I have nothing. Will I be happy not writing? Of course not! But who said anything about giving up? Not my family! Besides my Muse is family too! And yes, when I write, I will be bleeding into my stories and poetry. Oh yes. Bleed fast and furious. Because that is also what defines me. And so, to cut a rambling post short, I won’t write anything that doesn’t make me bleed into my keyboard, and that includes laughter. If I’m going to be (mentally) away from my home, the writing had better be worth it! My Muse will understand. I know.

You can read the story here

If you like Mother’s Garden please click on the like button in the site.  This is a contest and peer support is very welcome. Thank you!

About a decade ago, when I first ventured out to publish, timidly, very timidly, and had no idea whether my work was worth anybody’s tuppence (and so often I still don’t, but I am not so shy about my writing anymore), I sent my very first poem to Poems Niederngasse. To my surprise and immense happiness, the editor Pasquale Capocasa published one of the two I’d sent. That poem began a brief but meaningful relationship between a poetry editor in Switzerland and me, a small and unsure writer in Singapore.  I continued to send him poetry, now and then, and he continued to either take them in or send them back with advise and comments. Then one day he wanted to see a bunch of my poems together, saying that he’d like to run a feature on me in Poems Niederngasse. So could I send him around twenty from which he’d choose. However, he fell ill, and I didn’t hear from him for sometime. That was around 2005 or 2006. He got better and the feature idea resumed between us, alongwith a few more poems published in his poetry journal. And then there was deadening silence, all over again. No word from him, mails unanswered and an un-updated website made me fear the worst. I asked around, an editor who had worked with him, but she had heard nothing. I searched his name on the net; nothing. For a long time I could see the last issue, where my poem Monday Aubade had been published. These days when I googled Poems Niederngasse, I get a website which says Sacramento Personal Injury Attorney!

The poem that was published in Golden Sparrow Literary Review was spotted by Pasquale from a bunch of twenty, its good lines underlined and returned to me to rework. After I began to believe the worst, that I would never hear from Pasquale again, I couldn’t send the poem out again to anyone. But finally a couple of months ago, I put a leash on my heart and sent it to the editors at Golden Sparrow. They took it! And I am so glad it’s Golden Sparrow. Once you read the journal you’ll understand why.

Charge of the Monochrome Brigade 

Madras is at the lowest receiving end of the cold wave sweeping across North India these days. So it is gray and the city is dry and dusty, with a slightly cooler wind than our usual December’s winging through the street corners. It’s seems so right to have Charge of the Monochrome Brigade out in the city now.

***

The other two publications are  a poem in Bare Hands Poetry and a couple of poems and a short prose piece in Muse India’s Humour Issue.

Small Discomforts appeared in Bare Hands Poetry earlier this month. Bare Hands is a very interesting project, unusual in its style and approach. Read the magazine; you won’t be disappointed!

Sometime in early November (or was it mid to late October? Can’t remember!), some of us received mail from Surya Rao, managing editor of Muse India, about contributing something humorous to their soon to be published humour issue, edited by Ambika Ananth. The notice period was short, so he added that if we had any ready or could send at a short notice, he and Ambika would be happy to accommodate. Well, I often have a private laugh or two and end up writing something or the other from that. So I shot off  Spam Mails   a prose piece, and  two poems , one of which is in four parts, to Muse India.

***

Pasquale Capocasa was my first mentor. He was firm but always kind. That first poem  – Mind Over Time – was an important step forward, and one of the few that brought in letters of appreciation from absolute strangers. The year is ending and since this poem is about time, and all of us are growing older, I’d like to share it here. Pasquale had taken the poem as it was, without editing. I can’t find the link, so copy pasting from my personal folder instead:

MIND OVER TIME

First published in Poems Niederngasse,

edited by Pasquale Capocasa

 Here lives

A very young girl trapped

Within an old woman’s body

Don’t mock me

Please don’t.

Why are all your senses

Focused on the façade alone?

Aren’t you curious?

Don’t you

Want to know what lies

Behind? What lies behind is

A very long

Life stitched

All over this ravaged body

The soul though sits unscathed.

That’s why my

Soul sings

In spring and thrashes about

When winter howls, and

Murmurs

Seduction

In the blind heat of summer

My body dies. Everyday

Ashamed

Of my soul

Which refuses to grow old

Don’t mock me. Please don’t.

I am

Troubled

As it is. My wrinkles mock me

Enough. They are like vicious

Busy bodies

Slyly

Peeping through the cracks

They gossip. They can never

Understand

How

Wonderful it feels to feel

So young, even as this body

Dissipates. 

© Rumjhum Biswas 2001

These are stories written in a rush of mood. And afterwards I don’t try to find a logic or purpose behind them. Don’t know how good they are (or bad), but when they grab me, I have to pick up the nearest thing at hand, even if it’s a paper napkin and an eyebrow pencil! Much like my experience when I write poetry. Sometimes, though,  I am totally helpless and there’s not a thing at hand to lay the words down, or I am in a situation where writing is impossible. So the words chase up and down in my head and then drown, settle into a sediment below, get added to the coral reef… I like to believe that later on, days-months-years, unconsciously or from memory, some do get resurrected. Perhaps have already been resurrected. Or will be at some other time. Except that time is always borrowed… at a premium. But hope is a nice thing to have.

Returning to She Doesn’t Know, I wonder what women think of this story. I’d really like to know.

Do book your copies. Get a taste of what’s on offer here:

Reading Hour November 2011

The first one is just around the corner – DEADLINE IS 15th NOVEMBER! So go grab that pen!

Brought to you by the brand new journal Golden Sparrow Literary Review, this is a FEE-FREE contest. One poem per submitter.

Check out the details in GSLR’s Contest page 

Now get started on the new year by working on a poem. Yes, you get some time for this one!

Cha:An Asian Literary Journal has a FREE-FREE poetry contest lined up for you.

The last date for entries is 15th January 2012. Up to two poems per submitter! Get the details in the Cha Blog  

Happy Poeming

Crannog 28

My poem: The Sky Speaks to Me

The Sky Speaks to Me

Filed under: New Publication, Poetry, Share This, writing news Tagged: Crannog 28 ]]> http://rumjhumkbiswas.wordpress.com/2011/11/04/crannog-28/feed/ 0 Rumjhum crannog 28 mag cover crannog 28 poem full http://rumjhumkbiswas.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/the-horrorist/ http://rumjhumkbiswas.wordpress.com/2011/10/28/the-horrorist/#comments Fri, 28 Oct 2011 09:07:35 +0000 Rumjhum Biswas http://rumjhumkbiswas.wordpress.com/?p=2389 Continue reading →]]> Few days left before the month of horror ends! So quickly read my inteview on Nathan Rosen, up today in Flash Fiction Chronicles

Here:-

Rumjhum’s Ruminations: Horror-ific Revelations about Nathan Rosen!

While on the subject of horror, Nathan is running a horror flash contest in his  magazine MicroHorror. The last date is 31st October. The word count is exactly 666! This year’s theme is water. Get the details here

BOO!

http://finecha.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/sumana-roy/

The essay won first prize in the Fine Tea Competition 2011 from Cha: An Asian Literary Magazine’s blog A Cup of Fine Tea

We are on the second round of poems now. I’ve already printed out my batch, like I did the last time. And this time too, I’ll be taking those sheets of paper with me to the dining table, to the couch before the TV and for my evening walks. The reason being I need to live with these poems in order to understand them better and hopefully be a fair judge.

Poems have this knack of lighting up one facet that you’d never noticed before, despite that first, second and third reading. Then there is the problem of two or more poems that seem to be on equal footing. What do you do? Nitpick, obviously!

Sometimes you come a cross a poem that you love for its theme or imagery, but alas can’t give more marks to because of certain poetic flaws; sometimes you get a great poem in the making, which is sad as far as the contest goes, but you hope that the poet will not lose hope and work on the poem afterwards.

The whole process is rather unnerving and humbling too. Here you are, a small person, and you have to sit in judgement on other people’s creative works. You want to be completely fair and honest about the whole thing; you don’t want to let anything slip past your fingers; you want to make sure that your reasons (for the marks etc.) are perfectly reasonable.

And then, you have to be aware of that elusive thing, which ultimately skews the scales in favour one over the next - your personal tastes and sensibilities. That is what some would call luck. That’s the choice made between two equal poems, when there’s place for only one (followed by the rest in descending order). No matter how hard you try, that matter of personal taste will always be the decisive factor. Creativity is a subjective arena, after all.

As for me, I know that while I’m at it, I am gettinbg better at my poetic craft. It’s a learning process, and like all such processes, it’s unnerving. Wish me luck!