Books, Writing and the Weather

Well, maybe it is the weather. Delhi has been enveloped in this fog, is freezing cold, and is slightly windy today. It is very chilly and just the weather for a good book, a cup of coffee and a warm bed. But duty calls.

By sheer chance I came across this uncanny book yesterday, called ‘Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children’. I am still trying to figure out how I got there. One thing lead to another and the next thing I know I was reading this book. As often happens on the net, I followed one link and then another and then here I was. I took no time in buying the book and then started reading it. And could not put it down. It is a masterpiece. I had a feeling I had seen the photos before. Maybe I had read about the book when it came out. Anyway the parallel world the author creates and the mix of mediums in a novel is sheer creativity and brilliance. It’s a book which could easily have been a horror novel but its suspense just does not let you down. You are sucked into the madness with Jacob the young hero and intrigued by Miss Peregrine. The plot is taut and the story interesting.

But then I think I started to review it rather than read it. It is really an unputdownable and for the umpteenth time I was intrigued by someone’s creativity. How did he think up of this or write that?

As I reflected on that I remembered a fellow blogger’s post on writing and not giving up. I loved reading it, and started to think, why is it that I write? I was having a tough day yesterday, and after a long time, I just started to write on a topic like law. Because I wanted to. And next thing I knew, all the disturbance, the pain, the anger and frustration were forgotten and I was in my element. Yes, it was a dry subject but as I re-read the words, I was amazed with how I came up with it at all. Where did I think of this or that? I seemed to be flowing. Yes, writing is art, it is life, it makes sense of all that is non-sense and in the end it is therapeutic, It creates worlds, inspires and maybe gives us an identity, we do not know we have.


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