In addition, I have been directed to a few equally informative links, posted at the end of the blog post containing among many, NYT’s podcast book reviews, which yet again goes to show the limits to which literary podcasts are being put to. However, let’s not talk about that, shall we?

Another interesting blog is a Booker Prize shortlist – Indra Sinha – the author of Animal’s People. That brings up the rear to Hamid’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist and brings the number of nominated desi authors to two. Both books, it seems, have sold very few copies in England although Hamid’s book I know, has done quite well in the US.

Out of the 6 links I was directed to, 4 were Indian which yet again goes to show how far the people on the other side of the border have come in terms of literary achievements. There needs to be a forum in Pakistan by which the creative talents of this country are heard. There is a very apparent gap between the two nations in terms of this. Even our writers write about widely differing things – you’ll see a trend in most Indian authors – to write the common man’s story, while ours almost always deal with the elitists – a small segment of the population. Are we really going to wake each other up to the horrors and realities of this nation by our own tales? Is this what will bring our people out of their stupor? The new “It crowd” generation of writers seems to have one thing in common: a demeaned sense of reality (and morality too, for that matter). It may seem naive, but I cling to the opposite side with an odd strain of optimism. In the end, my stories are real, they talk about reality and what’s in the present and now, and how inevitably, the people we trust, and in particular – family, the importance of which – we must never underestimate. Perhaps my own strong relationship with the people in my life inevitably brings me back to this again and again, but I believe to be whole, we don’t need to look very far in our lives. We don’t need to write books upon books showing us mirrors to our own lives, albeit in twisted and convoluted ways.

Given, I find a comfortable home in the upper middle class, and there are times when my pride comes in the way of my better judgment, but I am no elitist. I must confess: I don’t know how the very elite in our country live, and will go out on a limb to add another thing: I don’t want to. I’m quite content with life on this side of the tracks. I do not look over the fence at the other side with longing, I do not look at all. And there are others like me. So how really do books like Kartography (from an author I admire: Kamila Shamsie has shown me much through her work), Moth Smoke, Trespassing and the like help us? What do they say about the country? What tales do those words weave? There are no common issues – issues understandable by all – issues like class, sectarianism, extremism, zina and the Hudood Ordinance and its true interpretation in Islam – the differences between that and how it’s depicted socially. There is no mention of religion at all and yet the clash between the modernists and the moderates and the extremists has been a decades long one. So what subset of the population do these stories really represent? Because it isn’t the upper middle class, in fact the middle class is entirely absent in these tales. The stories don’t seem to be about anything – they don’t seem to want to bring the population to its knees – to force them to understand both sides of conflicting issues. They seem only to add more fuel to the fire, to propagate not educate, to generalize not dissect, to be read and not understood. How true do their stories really ring, and are they truly written with a purpose in mind? The reason Pakistani authors are not completely on the map, is because we don’t write about serious things – we pick up “safe” topics – nothing beyond the ordinary excites us.

Things must change if we expect to move forward. The next generation of writers – today’s generation of writers must exact change, must think outside the box – must not sink in the mud of the writers preceding them.

Now is the time to surface, isn’t it?

Besides, this way the forums will be our own instead of the phpBB framework we run currently, and might possibly move away from Joomla, but that’s only a distant forecast. Before I start getting all techno geeky, I should divert attention.

Alert: It seems me and my pieces are making a mark on the popular Chowk network – Pakistan’s first independent thinking and encouraging, for that matter, website. I find it odd, for some reason, that the piece attracting a great deal of attention, although among my better ones, doesn’t seem worthy. My own personal favorite is Color Me In which hasn’t received enough good press as the more mellowed out, reminiscent All My Love. At the risk of ruining all that is so beautiful about the piece: this was written with my mind still transfixed on the beach house in Karachi’s Manora district, and is not related to my own experience as a lover at all. I did find it easy to put myself in that position however – I mean, how can you not think about it with the sea breeze and the miles and miles of sea – whatever else I may be, I’m not heartless. Suffice to say, seeing the sea at such close quarters for the first time in my life, had a profound effect on both my life and my work in a way I couldn’t possibly have foreseen boarding the plane en route to attend a family wedding. Why is it always weddings, I wonder? Or more appropriately, why is it always Karachi?

I was asked today, how I write, what my exact process is. I find it so difficult to quantify how to go about things. Is there really a set of rules by which all writers must adhere to and abide? Do we measure our work against a yardstick of writers past and present? And does that really do justice to our own abilities as writers and creative thinkers? My personal opinion is to look upon your influences as just that: influences, and write whatever you want in whatever style appeals to you at that point. As you continue writing over the years, you will be able to gauge what specific attributes of a particular style appeal to you, and in general, you’ll always stick to some form of that original concept. But this of course, is what it was like for me. What it will be like for you, I have no idea, but I can guarantee the process of discovery is in itself the most thrilling aspect of writing.

Above all else of course, you must really want it. Writing, as mentioned earlier, isn’t for the faint of heart. If you want to set out on that deadly path, you have to be prepared for the rollercoaster ride and possible madhouse, each day will be. There’s nothing easy about writing – it’s brutal, time consuming and each story seems after your own heart – but then it’s over, and oh the joy! You love to hate it, but the reality of course, is always (and rightfully so), different.

I’m past my allotted bedtime and I need to be up in less than four hours.

Toodles.

Is it the theme of the novel? The overdone Muslim living in America-fallen in love with an American-now looked on with suspicion-in a post 9/11 world-thing again? It might be. The literariness of things which so concerns us, doesn’t seem to concern the English community as well. Oh well. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. Or something like that.

Fortunately, we’re not discussing Hamid’s latest attempt at an international bestseller coming a few years (but not enough, it seems) too late.

My last post ended with the intimation that this one was going to be about book clubs. Well, it is and it isn’t. Blogs are so hard to classify sometimes, don’t you think?

Book clubs are, to put it quite simply, non-existent in countries like ours where government officials refuse to allow now exonerated politicians to enter their countries, and instead deport them elsewhere, even when the Supreme Court has ruled otherwise. It seems some things just don’t change. But I digress. Book clubs aren’t evident here, and if they are, they’re mostly private gatherings (although I confess: I haven’t heard of any local or national or domestic, for that matter). But the whole “this thing isn’t here either. Screw the country!” is getting a little old for me. I like to switch things around a lot, which is something the readers of this blog will become accustomed to over time. Although, if you’re ree-eeally interested, check out my space (shameless self-promotion, I know. I’m a horrible human being, let’s move on).

So granted, there aren’t book clubs and let’s get down to the dirty stuff: we at DesiWritersLounge.net know what you, as readers and possibly, budding writers want – a place to discuss everything. We provide it. Interested? Good. Frankly, I was hoping I raked your interest much earlier in the blog, but as mentioned before, beggars really can’t be picky.

Fortunately, Dawn provides an escape with its rather well-worked, although concededly poorly edited, weekly – Books & Authors. They’ve got book reviews, interviews with authors, the whole shebang. And if it weren’t for this thing, my Sundays would be largely boring and banging-head-on-the-wall days. Fortunately for both of us, it exists. So if you haven’t subscribed to Dawn yet, do. I’ll admit the newspaper in itself, is paltry compared to the hardcore news The News provides, but it’s plethora of extras is well worth it, especially if you’ve got an internet connection and can skedaddle off to their website.

So that’s one problem down.

Dawn’s extras are miles better than the ones The News provides. Sorry, The News fans (of which, I used to count myself as one. Things change…or I’m more open to the good stuff), but it’s true. You, Us, Instep, The News on Sunday…can you really compare yourself to ScienceTech (or whatever it’s called), Young World, Books & Authors, The Review, Magazine, Images etc? I mean seriously, can you? It’s not just the amount of pages on display here, it’s the content they’re stuffed with. I love the SWOT (I’m in love with the acronym) column that appears each Sunday at the very end of the Magazine. And of course, there’s the Gallery, a review of artistic ventures in the country. So really, if you need to be aware of anything literary or artistic, consult Books & Authors and the Gallery circulations. They’re decent.

Also, all those Lahore-walay out there, there’s an excellent bargain book store on MM Boulevard, right next to the Telenor building, called Readings. Of course, if you’re an Islamabad resident, you’re well aware that what it lacks in literary activities, it makes up for with its variety of old book stores. I found a treasure in a book store in Jinnah – in the Vogue furniture store line – Rilla of Ingleside (the last of the Anne series, which I own). So they are all over the city, although I haven’t been able to find any in its most youth oriented district – F-11. But who knows? One might spring up. There are three in the F-10 area and of course enough to write home about in F-6, F-7 and F-8. I lived half my life in the latter two.

Anyway, aside from domestic chatter, I’m off.

Next post (whenever that might be): writing strategies, or to be more specific, how to get the work done, instead of staring at an empty page all day. Having been there and back again, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But more on that next time.

Podcasts. In case you’re wondering what they are, they’re broadcasts for the internet, subscription based and mp3’d so you can download them to your iPod or mp3 player of choice, hence the term – “podcast”. i”Pod” and broad”cast”. Nifty, eh? It’s one of the best ways to create literary awareness, and contrary to public speculation, there are a wealth of podcasts for Pakistanis by Pakistanis and if there aren’t literary based podcasts, well someone has to create a market for them, right? For something to have a market, it has to be created. Basic economic theory. To create demand for a product, supply it and if it’s decent, people will flock to it.

I don’t think the writing community has really understood the impact of podcasts – I have seen a few sites that offer readings of select pieces as a podcast – but they aren’t updated regularly, and subscribing to their feed is entirely pointless. And why should we limit ourselves to readings? If we can start a show about literary offerings in the country – have scouts around the country in major cities – and ask them to monitor and keep an eye out for any happenings, well…? T2F (The 2nd Floor) in Karachi is doing an interesting job of it – they’ve got readings by some newer local authors, and impromptu readings by aspiring authors – they haven’t limited themselves to just that, they’ve incorporated government policies as well. But that’s in Karachi, and anyone who lives in Pakistan, knows that Karachi is a country in itself, separated from the rest of the country in both geography and population. If it were closer to either Lahore or Islamabad, traveling there wouldn’t be entirely impossible. No one wants to spend close to Rs 18k for one trip there, as opposed to the 1k it’d take to take a return trip to Lahore via Daewoo.

And that’s another advantage podcasts have over their more traditional counterparts – location. You don’t need to be in either of the reporting cities, or even in the same country, to get the information – readings, people talking about h-interesting things, the latest happenings in the arty world.

So expect podcasts to hit DesiWritersLounge.net’s airwaves over the next few months or so. This is one idea I’m not prepared to let go of just yet.

There is other news: preparing for the fourth issue of our e-zine in April ’08, I’d like to have assigned editors in charge of our various column/sections (The Poet, The Writer, The Rambler and The Abstract Thinker). So if you’re interested, drop me a line at maryam@desiwriterslounge.net. Be prepared however: you’ll need to do this pro bono, like the rest of us. So if you’re looking for a way to make some extra cash, this isn’t it. Sorry.

We’ll also need podcast gurus – people who have interest in creating a show and/or being a correspondent for their city – and those who have experience in creating one. True, I hail from a Computer Science background, but those days are largely over. With my jobs spanning from being a project manager to technological consultant (largely marketing) and now, an entirely marketing job. I’ve done my fair share of programming, etc but would prefer to move out of that life although I do run a website, but hey! We’re hiring…or…well, you know what I mean.

I do however, encourage you to participate in the forums first, to see how well you and your experience would gel into our existing community.

Oh and news: we’re starting our official Book Club. True, we had one before but that was more of a “let me tell you what book I’m currently reading” or “I’m confused, people! Tell me what I should read.” Beginning this month, we’ll all start reading a book together and then meet every two weeks to discuss, which brings me to my next post.

Book clubs and reviews.

later.

At the most, a Creative Writing MFA can give you a structured life and a writing support system in the form of writing professors, a community of writers and your peers. It enforces a writer to do just that: write, no excuses. You can hope that the program you choose, and which ultimately accepts you has a program which is both flexible and whose instructors don’t condition you into a predefined mold, encouraging you to diversify and experiment with your work. At least, that’s what I would look for.

My reasons to apply for a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing are primarily a chance to focus on my craft solely and completely, to get that perspective and direction, focus and concentration. My intentions and reasons are, as you can see, quite pure. I don’t want the glory and I’m not doing it for the publication (which is blurry as it is – no program guarantees you publication upon graduation. If you do get it, consider yourself lucky. It does however, stand to put you on the map). I want the knowledge of realizing that I’ve done something I set out to do, accomplished a personal ambition – the degree will be an extremely personal endeavor. Above all, I want the experience of working with like minded peers.

However, I do know what focusing exclusively on writing can do to you and I think it’s quite normal to lose your mind. I know this, because I’ve experienced it. On multiple occasions. A friend tried to explain it by comparing it to a relationship: it’s entirely one sided and you often don’t get much in return. So you need to know what you’re doing, going in and know that this will be the most demanding and taxing job you will ever commit to. Don’t underestimate that. Above all, know that the pangs of loneliness you will feel now and again, are perpetual and they’ll never end. Not when you’re surrounded by friends and family, not even when you’ve met the undying love of your life, because inevitably, you’ll be spending much of the time alone. Alone with your writing and your mind. It’s one of the things that appeals to me about writing – that one can survive quite well on one’s own – of course, you’re human: you feel lonely, but eventually those pangs pass and you’re writing again and everything just melts away.

So the MFA in Creative Writing program isn’t a “how-to” guide for writing – it’s for serious writers who want the structure, framework and time on which to focus on their craft – and working towards a goal, which in their everyday lives, they wouldn’t get a chance to. Think of it like a retreat…away from home, from people, from the world and where you will be expected to be alone and write.

I know a lot of Sub-Continental (Pakistani, Indian, Bangladeshi, Afghani etc) writers who have pursued the MFA have used their perspectives once outside of their countries of origin, to write a more informed representation of their countries and the politics within. It does give you perspective after all.

I’ve been a prospective applicant and I’ve devoted the last four years to exclusive research on the program and all it entails and what it sets out to accomplish.

One thing though: writing? It isn’t for the faint of heart. You have to be committed and have the heart to see it through, wherever your path takes you, whatever depths you have to plummet, and heights you need to scale to reach your destination.

Know that and you’re all set. Have a great weekend!

Till my next post.

As a rule, I don’t like competitions. I think a piece of writing is largely subjective and open to interpretation by its readers, and as such, can it really be judged and not only judged, but (horror of horrors) compared? But then, we subconsciously do it all the time when we compare one book with the other, one author with another, one genre with another. So my rules should be discarded, shouldn’t they?

Writing competitions are, like other literary pursuits in this country, a forgotten breed. That when they do arise, they bring a wealth of submissions denotes a promising thing: there are aspiring writers in this country, or at the very least, earnest amateurs. One noted example is the recent Young Writers’ Competition on Women in Pakistan held by the Heinrich Boll Foundation in conjunction with the Goethe Institut, Karachi and Oxford University Press. Out of 600 submissions, the top 20 writers were selected by a panel of literary heavyweights to participate in a workshop held at the Heinrich Boll Foundation, Lahore to prepare their texts for publication by OUP on International Women’s Day. This is the first serious venture taken in Pakistan, exclusively for young writers. Now that’s promising. One can only hope, this is one step in a continuing series of right steps.

Now of course, there have been other competitions open to Pakistani writers in the past, most notably the Commonwealth Writing Competition, but those are almost entirely for school going young adults, and don’t cater for the 18-30 year olds that form a key subset of the current population.

The Young Writers Competition provided a good approach – there were cash prizes for the monetary inclined and the chance to pursue a workshop under the guidance of a published author – for the more serious writers, and of course the chance to see their work in print. My advice would be for more competitions of this kind and to open up a realm of mainstream literary journals to encourage writing and publication. Because if the only option for publication for serious writers is still Jang’s Us – Magazine for the Youth in five years – I’ll jump off a cliff.

Giving examples of either the US or the UK is laughable, because those two countries are far ahead of us in every mainstream field, and it goes without saying that they’re beyond us in this one as well. One of the reasons for that of course, isn’t just the lack of competitions, but the lack of understanding that writing and literary pursuits are not derogatory and nor should they be made to be. There are a handful of universities offering liberal arts degrees, and good ones. Most recently, Beaconhouse National University opened its doors to providing a solid, decent experience with an excellent staff of teachers. This information is still unverified, since time and chance hasn’t allowed me to take a look at their campus, although I have been to their website (http://www.bnu.edu.pk). Among its notable features is the MA in English Literature which provides workshops by established Pakistani authors, which needless to say, is an excellent thing! It’s a marvelous step in the right direction.

Now all we need are more universities who offer their students a rich, diverse literary experience and an environment to really dive into, and we’re all set.

Another consideration is the art of teaching creative writing, which brings me to Creative Writing programs, most notably the MFA (Masters of Fine Arts) in Creative Writing which is becoming a craze for the younger generation of writers, with particular reference to local authors because of a lack of opportunities here. In my next post, I hope to discuss whether pursuit of this program is the most lucrative option available, whether writing can be taught, and just what the MFA experience offers.

Till then…