Hey guys, today I'll be sharing some tips for writing which every beginner should count in. As I have completed 5 years in this field, I think I qualify for sharing my own experiences from the start till now. Today I'm sharing you 6 crucial tips that every new writers should follow. 1: Be a writing writer: most of the people call themselves a writer and write one poetry or an article in a week. this won't work for you as a writer. one should write daily (be a haiku, quote, or a journal). a writer will never stop writing because that's what makes him/her a writer. 2-Improve : once you have adapted the daily habit of writing. don't stop there. why do you want to stop at something you really love doing? Try to improve, read other writer's work, learn what they write, and how they write. you can't just write everyday and post it on Instagram and then your ask your friends to share it, or they'll share just to show some support. You have to improve, because there is no perfection out there, there is only improvements and being a writer you should always look for writing better than your last piece. 3-Know your Content: It's been five years now since I have started writing and I did not stop writing or evolving myself in it. This is the one thing that I personally experienced and still do and that is to knowing my content. For example : if you are writing a poem, no one else but you will know what you just wrote, and whether it will warm your audience's heart or not. be it a poetry or a short story, you will know what you just wrote. so be honest to yourself, if you feel that your article is missing something, believe it and try completing the void. 4-Conclude it in one-sit: This applies specifically to short stories, there are people who love to write short stories and the one common mistake many writers do while writing a short story is: they don't do it one sit, they complete half today and then they vanish from the front of their keyboard for next 24 hours, or in some cases, forever. Try to complete you short story in one sit, this will only let the rhythm of the story to sustain it's charm. 5-criticism : Critics are the major part in being a writer. when I first started writing I joint a writers community website where there were writers from all around the world. and that site was filled with some great writers and believe me I got criticism so many times. some people have me torn my t-shirt. but I applied the changes and moved on, and that's how I learned a lot a still learning. now one thing you need to know that criticism comes from being in you akin background. if you are amongst the writers, criticism will come. and if you are among the writers and nobody is criticizing you to improve your work then you might as well not among some good writers. Because good writers will always come forth with their experiences and they will share it with you, because they have been there and they know what helps at that stage. not every criticism is harsh, most of the times they are constructive. so if you feel offended, take that offence as a solid foundation and build your best version of a writer on that. most of the people stop writing because of criticism, some don't care, and there are many people who think the criticizing writers showing themselves as superior. it's nonsense. you, you have seniors everywhere, in school, colleges and so you will have them here, so take the guide or offence but do apply the changes that your content that needed to be. this is how you improve. 6- Face the Fear: Well it's true I they, 'there's always someone better than you'. most people don't like this fact. but with their denial the fact does not change. You have to swallow this in your guts that there is someone out there doing better than you, some might not know or met them yet, and some did. and I have always come across to the type of people who did meet someone better writer than them. I have observed that most of them creates envy from them, they just don't like to accept the fact about that other person being better. People always thing that they themselves are better, now, it is not a bad mind-set is what I'm saying. Because, thinking you are the best can be very productive mind-set you can build. but for that you need to have that level of content. Number 3 applies here a bit. You know that your content is nowhere near the best and yet you think you are the best then you may have just blocked your own path from growing. So instead steaming your envy for them, just think someone so better than you is someone you know and that can also make you learn easily and faster. push the negative thoughts away and allow the force that will grow you to come in.
The seat on my opposite is still empty. your coffee has lost it's steam and turned frigid, and your warmth on that seat, is replaced by cold. your footprints are still punched on the mattress of snow. And I, sat solemnly, waiting for the next day, when I wipe out the drafts off my window, hoping to see you tracing back your own footmarks, to the door that I never flipped closed. @Farhan Shyk
I remember watching you that night, how you sneaked me out of my room and forced me to sit with you on the rooftop and when your wrist clock strike 11:11, you merely used to join your hands and wish for something that was most important to you. You were beautiful at that moment. You said once that you hate when people stare at you, but what about the stars who envied your beauty whilst you were blinded in wishing. You never told me what you always have to wish for? Neither did I ask! When you had your eye closed, my hands brushing your cheeks, that slightly dimpled and did you feel my hands adjusting your hair behind your ears? When you were done, you always asked me, why don’t I wish? I never answered that question, because in those little moments, I almost got my everything that I didn’t asked for ever. Your elbow against my ribs was the detention you gave me every time I disbelieved in your wishes, the pain I used to feel was sweet. I remember once or twice when I got late a little, you remained mad at me for days and days. One thing that I always wanted to ask you that, was I ever in your wish list? Did you ever asked the stars to have me stay in your life forever? Because if you did, then I am afraid to say this to you, but I was quite right in disbelieving your wishes and if you didn’t, then I wish you have gotten everything that you wished for. I hope you have ran out all of your 11:11 wishes by now. In order to know where you are and what is going on in your life, I sometimes visit your Instagram and blink with smile while looking at your pictures. All of them are my favourite. Sometimes I even type the message that I don’t send and then I get a little difficulty to backspacing them due to the wet screen. Because there are still the lake of unread messages you haven’t paying attention to anymore and they give me such emotional cramps that fuckin hurt a lot. So now I have started going to the rooftop alone. I alarm myself at exact 11:11 and go blind in the wishes. I wish that somehow someday you will return to this rooftop so we both can wish together. I won’t just sit and gaze at your angelic beauty and you won’t get a chance to punch my ribs again. I wish that the lost fragrance of yours in the surrounded air would return, I wish that just for once you go lost and then the archway to the home will open once again. Because this is where you belong and this is where you should be. All the stars have seemed to gain some arrogance for their beauty in your absence. Just for once if you could look back and not in the expressions of a shattered mirror, even if you get a little late, like I used to. It’s alright, I won’t go mad at you. You won’t even have to do your rapid blinking to bribe yourself a forgiveness, you just have to be here, with me, so that I could run out of my 11:11 wishes. @Farhan Shyk
I’m tired of building.
The castle of rage.
I am lost in
it’s maze of passages,
That always leads me
To the room where
I am not welcomed.
The throne isn’t just
as comfortable as
The walls inside
Echoes my mistakes,
And terrible decisions.
I look fine, but the mirror
On the walls reflects me bruised.
And the ceiling upon me
hooked the chandelier,
That clink the conflicts
I am unfolding the
Limbs of grudges.
And will let the air fill
The voids in my heart.
Though, forgiveness is hard to find,
But if it even has it’s hut,
I want to live in it for the rest
Of my life.
I was never good at soccer, yet I loved playing and naïve me, I never learned to tie my shoelaces. I usually used to tripped over my own shoelaces. Nobody ever gave me the hand to jump back on my feet, but then this one day, a sugar melted voice crashed into my ears. “Bene u?” she said, these were the first words she had said to me, on my that one day of school. It was obvious I didn’t know what it means, neither did I ask her, gazing at my puzzled face, she showered her rail of giggles. “It means, are you okay?” she added. I didn’t reply any sooner. How could I? I was struggling to find my way back out of her breath-taking beauty, the beauty which made the ground go airless. “Yes” I cracked finally. It was hard not to look in her ebony eyes, so I left and since that day, I had tripped over hundreds of times, but the luck was not fair to me again. I bunked the classes, just to see if she was really that beautiful or it was just my eyes that beheld something it wanted. In the world full of roses, she was a wildflower, pure and untamed. See this was the difference between her and others. Where everyone was trying to fit and fold into the boxes, she captive herself in cocoon, while we all were in the race of running first and fast, she was glancing up in the endless sky, refusing the limits of how high she could go. she had some unending dreams in her teardrops and carved in her arc of smile was my smile. I had already seen this future with her, but it stayed blur. Never occurred clear to me. I thought thousand times a day, posed hundreds in an hour in practice of how to tell her that she was the morning mist in which I was willing to go deeper and to go lost and then one day, I finally decided to tell her what she meant to me. That day missed dozens of trains just to catch the one in which she used to travel, but she didn’t board that day, nor on the next and neither on the day after next. This far has already kissed my bones when I heard that she moved out from the city. My moment slipped away. Years passed and I had stopped thinking about her. Not entirely, the pinch of pain I felt that day still lurch me a little. Maybe I could feel a little bit more, but the rush in my blood has changed. The clock on my wrist had me alarmed always about how my boss would half my salary if I were late. One way or the other I had managed to fit into the box that curled me and stiffed my muscles but I hadn’t forgotten her completely. On the holidays, apart from rest I still give a little respect to her fleeting memory, and that blurred future I had seen with her which evaporated from teardrops. Thinking She might be somewhere moving, unstopped and unsettled like that butterfly she dreamt to be. I am afraid if she had lost her colours! She wouldn’t, would she? The night was on the edge of becoming an enticing one but the alarm strikes once again and the moment slipped away one more time. Unfinished bread in my mouth and untied tie hung on my neck. I ran, throwing one leg after another, oops! I forgot to tie my shoelaces again. I had just managed to crossed the street and WHACK! I tripped over my shoelaces again, I swam my face and saw there was no one in that rushing crowd to help me getting back to my feet. Then cutting out of thin air came a sugar melted voice, she had her hand stretched to me. “Bene u?” she said and smiled. @Farhan Shyk
So I am here again, laid crunching the grass beneath me, in the twilight just on the time you asked me to. and as you said, I did not came through the gate, I jumped over the barred fence and sneaked in from right under the nose of the snoring watchman whom you would have said 'slept without admiring the tempting beauty of the night'. There was nobody to be seen across the park, I am alone just as you wanted. beholding the stars just as you wished. the guard has woken up and he saw me lying here, but don't you worry, he won't say anything. He knows this is the only time and place where we meet and talk. Let me tell you how was my day before you ask. As usual I slept most of the hours and missed my class. but in that hours of sleep, I had a wonderful dream, I saw us sneaking in the park for the very first time. when you forced me to lie down beside you, and had me watch you talking to the stars. I remember you telling me that how when a person dies he or she becomes a star. I laughed at that and made fun of you, I told you this would be a good plot to write a story on. and then you punched me in my ribs complaining about how awful I write, confessing, that you never liked my endings and that it always ends in a heartbreak, and cursed my characters, who are are either carrying some burden on their backs or wearing a tiara of sorrows. and then I promised to write a happy one someday. I also asked God in that dream to turn these numbered days with you into Infinite, and turn this concept of life and death into something exquisite., and this tragic in a magic, But he remained mum on my wishes, instead he turned flames into fire, and his need in a dire. Perhaps we both adored you in a same way, that’s why, maybe he bereaved you from me. I only felt like just fallen asleep when my mom shook me awake, and in that 'just' I had lived a lot. she was one step away from kicking me. she forced me to go and attend my class, but I didn't. she also said to stop waiting for you to join me in the class ever again. Should I?. Because any day spent without you in class made me feels like a stranded sailor in the seven seas. and I cannot imagine sitting on a bench knowing you won't sit beside me anymore. So I came here, just as you said. You said, this is the place where I'll find you. and I am looking right at you, do you see me? i am sure you are the one who is twinkling brighter today. I have also written that story I promised. and in this one, hearts don't break. and word 'death' does not exist. in this you are still here with me and not among those stars, I can smell your scent and feel your kiss, lips tasting lighter than the air.. and In this story, the weight on the backs of my character has unfolded into wings, just how you wanted it to be, and I don’t put tiara on their heads anymore, I give them the crown. @Farhan Shyk Farhanshyk.info/mignighttalks
I remember looking at you for the first time, your lips flexed and your eyes spoke, your cheeks went pink and your hairs stirred in the air of dreams and dust. Though my tongue remained unmoved but my eyes peeped inside yours. I still hate that I let the moment slipped down my hands. it wasn't love though, It was something that is still underrated.... crushed…..beneath the feet’s of love. but time always come up with different plans, and somehow our friendship grew. It grew faster than the sunflower and glowed prettier than the sun. I remember, days and nights, we having our sweet and sour fights. you teasing me for my pimples and I shot back on your restrained height. During the drizzling period of texts and calls, we were the ones who conversed in letters, and then deciding on the next day of school, whether was it yours or my swirls on paper were better. The routes you asked me to take while we walked back home, weren't as plain as others liked them to be. I picked the rough ones, because I knew you liked to kick the stones out, and make your own way. The days I spent along with you, felt like an adventure book, which I wrote, but the protagonist has always been you. for a long time we breathed the same air. chased the same glares, and if course, how can I forget the nights when the life looked grey and black to me. You stole the colours from the rainbows and filled them in my eyes. The we go on our hunt on catching the fireflies. but as I said before 'time always come up with different plans'. Somehow my mistakes and misleading, the ice I had in me, gave me the cold and parted the air that we shared on our route, parted in two different ways. you went on to yours, chasing the fireflies, and I went on mine, reluctantly with the rays of memories. though I turned back many times, but you weren't anywhere to be seen, I saw you have kicked all your stones and I was still weaving between them for a long time. I hate not stopping you earlier, and letting the moment slipped down my hands once more. I still remember and recall all your dreams you shared with me. Pushing my sleep to wait, I still wonder, if the nights you sleep in remained same or time had dragged you into it's another twist. Have you crowned your head with the stars yet? or the clouds appeared and hid them somewhere behind them? It hurts a little, to go on the route and wait which we shared, gives a lurch in heart, when you don't show up. I saw you smiling many times, but never for me. I saw you walking many times, but with someone else. I knew how much you loved kicking stones out of your way, but I never thought one day I'd be one of those stones. I wish you’d be here, while I am broke, wish you’d come out of thin air and tell some of your lame jokes, to turn my giggles Into laughter, to turn these empty pages in a chapter. @Farhan Shyk
I have been working on my debut novel uninterruptedly since last 60 days and I must say these enforced isolation have been very helpful in focusing on what is best for the story and to my readers. I am enjoying the story i am writing and the one book won't finish it therefore I have planned a series of five books to complete the entire story. I have completed a new chapter 3 days a ago and another past week, though it still doesn't mean that the book will be completed imminently, as I have a long way to go through all other legal proceedings to publish it. my characters are the favourite part of mine in the story and I have to proceed calmly in order to grant them the justice they deserve. Keep checking the blog for more updates and excuse me for now, Braern is calling me, he needs my help figuring out what is wrong in the city of dragons.
It took me three seconds to realize after being awaken how much colder it was today. I took a quick glance outside the window and the most of the streets was white covered in snow. Later the freezing silence was broken by my alarm clock which sounded as multiple owls hoot. Being a successful scientist I should not be this much late. It took me some time to decide whether to get shower or not, But then I made my way to the bathroom and had a quick morning shower. I took no much time in packing my old bag and tried to empty it, my old books from college and some pieces of paper. I also found a note saying ‘don’t take your feet off the ground’ I did not remember this note and I also couldn’t figure it out but couldn’t do so. So I replaced everything with my laptop, a charger, and couple of books inside my bag and place a toasted sandwich into my mouth and shut the it door behind. I had no valid reasons to stay home in this holidays I had a bit when my wife was around but we don’t see each other much these days as she lives with her mom. The street was empty at Christmas morning and the cold freezing wind wouldn’t let me unfold my hands. everyone else was home spending holidays with family but I haven’t celebrated Christmas with my family since last 7 years. It is not that much exciting for a 41 year older me. I never get time for my family which lives in Westminster. So as usual I reached the lab on time and witnessed very few of my colleagues were present to spend another busy day without picking up any phone calls or voice mails. “not going home again? Alex”. Asked Christopher (my colleague) “Nah, got to work on another paper” I replied. “again ignoring your mother’s calls? “she stopped calling” “I miss being home Alex, I wish I could go back in my 20s” uttered Christopher. “spooky! In my 20s all I was worried about the rumor of that time booth machine, that’s how I used to spend Christmas” We both break into laughter. I received few congratulation at work for publishing a research paper and even got some ‘woo-hoos’ and ‘well dones’, after spending a cheerful day I was off to home. I saw some youngsters singing ‘merry Christmas’ and a child stretching his mother’s shrug asking ‘what Santa will gift him this year’ I directly followed the path to subways as the cab would be harder to find. The street was messy with people, I was halfway across the street and felt a hard metal on my right thigh which flipped me down to head first, everything went blur to black but I could still hear giant honks and people babbling. No sooner did I woke up than I found a blonde man of my age, with a pair of brown eyes gazing at me. “how are you feeling now lad” he asked. It took me moment to swallow that ‘lad’ word coming out of man with same number grey hairs as mine. “much better” I said. As I noticed I was wearing a hospital’s dress. “where am I?” “ST. Johnson’s Hospital, your friends brought you here last night” he said. I had to rethink if a St Johnson’s were nearby anywhere, it knew one but it was back in Westminster, the place I left 18 years ago. “My friends?” I stumble on to my feet looking for my clothes “you must be mistaken I don’t had any friend around while the crash”. “they claimed to be your friends” he said, puzzled. “named, Harper and Smith. Hearing the names I felt my heart pounding faster than ever. “not possible, Harper and Smith were my friends, one died and other moved to Japan”. I muttered. With my statement the doctor definitely looked puzzled and as if he would suggest to stay another day in for some more treatment. But I discharged and hurried towards home, maybe that doctor has gone mad and speaking random names as joke, but it seemed a rare possibility for this to happen. I asked for my bag but the doctor simply shrugged and shook his head. As I stepped out the snow outside was melted already and it didn’t even felt like winter, the sun was sending it’s warm and instead of wearing triples, people were walking in shorts and cotton. I wondered if this is a dream so pinched myself but the world stayed still. I was mystified by the surroundings, am I dreaming? Or have I slept the next three months? I was baffled with some mysterious thoughts. I walked down to the streets everything looked familiar but these streets and trees belonged in somewhere else where I’ve lived I haven’t seen this in last 8 years, I was definitely in Westminster. that can be sorted out, the biggest problem to me was, when I crashed with a car last night it was winter and I woke up in a sun heating weather. How can a summer comes overnight? And how is Harper still alive?. I did not know what to do next, where should I go. I could only go to one place from here and that is somewhere I did not visit in last seven years, to my parents. I ran, threw my one leg ahead of another, the sweat rolling downward my forehead. I can see my hands which looked much younger, the scar on my right hand was no more. I could run faster and smoother as if I am still a 20 year old. Wait! A 20 year old? Is this why that doctor called me a lad? I slowed down and checked my reflection in a car’s window. Yes it was me, but only younger, my wrinkles were gone, my bag was gone I was back in my 20s. How? I crashed down as 41 year old, how can I travel 20 years back in time? Or I was always 20 and just dreamt of being 41 and a successful scientist. No! It can’t be I’ve earned my life, and now it has all gone In An overnight. I did not knew what to do next, how to go back where I belong. I checked my pocket and found my cell, I hurried and dial one of my colleague but by network could not reach him or any other colleague. I had no solutions of going back to home, all I have from my time is my cell. It was dusk and headed towards my parents place, there was no chance of my place exist at this time, I didn’t worked hard yet to build it. Few blocks later I could see my old home where I spent my childhood and teenage, I see my mother in the yard waiting for something. And as being a 20 years old I quickly realized she was waiting for me, she was younger than I last saw her, less grey hairs and she had no walking stick in her hand. Few seconds later she caught my stare and put both of fist on the either side of her waist and gazed at me with anger. Wait! I remember this day when I was actually 20. I had a car crash in my 20s as well but I did not remembered what happened next at that time. I had no memory after that crash, But it was all making sense now, this gave me a glimpse of hope that maybe all this will make sense one by another. I moved in saying nothing, but listening to my mother’s high pitched voice shouting on me. Few minutes later after scolding she served me her best food which I’ve never tasted in last seven years and it was as delicious as ever. I didn’t sleep for the next hour, wondering how will I figure out all of the happenings, one reckless road cross has cost me my 20 years. I heard the door bell and went down, it was my father. He was too less older and have less grey hairs, for a moment I forgot all and lived that second where I saw my family after 7 years, it felt a little nostalgic. I was surprised how I never felt this in last seventeen years. I remember this day, and I knew what tomorrow will bring, as I have already lived in this time. As I remembered on the next day dad took me and mom to beach, for some family quality time. For once I thought I should tell everything to my parents, but even if they believe me what will I answer when they’ll ask about my real 20s self, so it was better for me to stay mum. The next as I knew we went to the beach, the sun felt nearest and the sand felt like ashes to walk on. In the past I enjoyed this day but now it was opposite, my dad asked me to swim with him but I didn’t swim as I did actually in the past. Hours passed and the sun seemed drowning under the sea, I moved nearer to see the sunset and by the touch of the water I felt a twist in my stomach. I dived in my pocket for my cell and opened the voice mails which I received 24 hours ago on the day of Christmas, it was 8 voice messages I missed 7 of them were from my mother and the last one was from Stacey, my wife. I opened on my mom’s first voice mail Dear son, I know you are quite busy but I feel deep sorrow to inform you that your father is no more with us. We have arranged a funeral on Saturday. Hope you will stop by. My Dad! I run all the messages all have the same message regarding my father’s passing away. My hand loses the grip of my cell, tears roll down to my cheeks and disappear in the ocean. I felt heavy and broke down. I spun around and saw my past father chilling with my mother and smiling, in that moment I visualized what I’ve missed in last 17 years, the love of family, from which I was going farther away. All these years when I should be taking care of my family all I thought was my own self and the work which I adored. But today I felt the greatest grief, as if the cloud burst out on me. I wished I’ve never missed any of the holidays, I wished if I’ve given a little more importance to my mom and dad, now not even science can bring my father back and the time which I wasted being away from him and mom. I run from there in grief, pushing my legs harder as if the pain will slip out, but it didn’t. The pain was right in my chest pouring from the eyes, regrets were started penetrating my bloody as a poison. I stopped by a wall leaning and my face dropped in my palms. “Alex, what happened?” A soft voice passed through. I looked up and even with the blur sight I recognized her immediately, It was Stacey my girlfriend and wife to be. “Stacey!” It felt I’ve seen a bright star in the darkest night. “it’s nothing just going home” I wiped out my tears. For a second I thought of telling her everything and cry out my life in her arms. She grabbed my hand and pulled me Into her chest, in her warmth I wondered whether I have taken the wrong way, all this time when I should have been there for my family I kept neglected them, my work had became a drug to me. I knew what I had to do, I’ve fixed where have I gone wrong, so I rushed back to the home and my mom and dad were in the yard. I jumped the barrier and threw myself into my father’s arms, he patted me with love and so did my mom. “I love you dad, and mom” I said, my tears were soaking on my father’s shirt. “and I’m sorry” “It’s alright son, let’s go and talk inside, shall we?” “I’ll be right back dad” I went inside my house pulled out my bag and a piece of parchment, I wrote a note ‘don’t take your feet off the ground ‘ and left it in the bag. Once again I ran fast, I didn’t know how long I’m here but before I go I had to see one more person who I’ll miss in future. harper, his death was a trauma to me. I ran towards his place and slowed down once I saw his place and him in the window. I started crossing the street and the next second Brought a great pain on my waist and flipped me down on head first. I could still see the blur faces running towards me and one of them came out of the house which I was going in, a tall handsome boy called my name while I was lying on street going blur and then black. I woke up the very next minute and felt cold wind through my lungs, I see my hands and the scar was back again I stumble back to my feet and walk towards the sink and looked myself in a mirror, a middle age man with some grey hairs in beard and hairs and growing wrinkles on the face staring at me. Little did I feel good but the major missing was my father, I hurried out from the hospital and took the cab till the subway and dialed my wife’s number. I couldn’t reach her cell so I left a voice mail. “Honey, I know its late but I need to talk, meet me at the funeral” I dived in my bag and pulled out a piece of parchment which I didn’t figured out earlier, and now it all made sense. It was note from me to myself. I rushed down from the cab to the subway. “one ticket to Westminster abbey”. @Farhanshyk
I myself loves writing poetries, I remember myself when I didn't used to write the poems but only to read them. and I used to feel like "oh wow! this is something I am feeling or wanna say" yess! that is correct, everybody feels the words of a writer. And poem includes the verses which is something readers wants to say to someone or what they feel, that is how they begins to like poetries. But there are some readers out there who kept asking "why don't you rhyme?". A good question. And the answer is simple. Rhyming is not necessary for a poetry, or for songs or a rap lyrics. there is a version of it called 'free verse writing' which does not follow the rules of rhyme and rhythm but still produces an artistic expression. yes Rhyme does makes reading beautiful, but a writer will never force his/her work to be rhymed. Maybe you've heard this songs rhyme and you've liked it but not all the lyrics contains rhyming. So I'd you are looking to write your own poetry then start writing, and don't waste your time if you can't find a good rhyme. Free verse writing is around for hundreds of years., and that too makes a good poetry. By Farhan Shaikh.