Writing life: The stuck writing days and sleepless early morning notes

I'm stuck. Stuck. Stuck. With a whole bunch of concepts like puzzle pieces in my head. But how do they connect to form a meaningful story? There are so many tangled threads that need to be unraveled and rearranged. 

It's not just the surface layer of the story plot and action. The layers of historical and cultural significance have to blend in. The emotional interactions between characters need to show the reader what's going on besides the superficial words that are spoken. The body language has to align with what's said or left unsaid. The atmosphere has to paint the picture in the reader's mind with every scene.

I feel guilty over the last few days of stuck nothingness.

So… free flow writing to the rescue. I’m taking my random notes from early this morning to write out a blog post.

I'm stuck at a scene in the historical fiction story where there's only one option to move forward. And it feels like a cliched option, which is predictable and not the twist that keeps readers turning pages. I want a different scene but so far haven’t come up with a suitable progression that fits the storyline.

Working on a series of short stories 

So… I took a break from the genre historical fiction story and decided to turn some of my blog posts and other childhood memories into short stories for publication.  

I’m currently working on turning some of my shikari great grandfather’s real life adventures into a fictionalized story for a short story series. 

Besides this story, I'm also fleshing out the mongoose incident from my other blog post into a standalone short story. This will be part of the series. 

I have already written up some memorable events from my childhood involving a bunch of bonnet macaques. They were very interesting visitors who’d come and hang out on my grandfather's fruit trees every now and then. As a kid, I named two of them Mickey and Sticky and I still remember their funny antics decades later. So they are the protagonists of the third story. 

These two stories need a good round of editing, cover images and the rest of it before submission. But I want to start the series with my ancestor’s interesting adventures. 

The headmaster who hunted man-eating leopards 

The first story in the series is inspired by my great grandfather. My ancestor wasn’t exactly a shikari in the pure sense of the word because it wasn’t about hunting for sport. It was about protecting his place and the people and animals there.  

He was called SAK, which were his initials, so I'm using that for this blog. But the stories are probably going to be heavily fictionalized as I need to fill in the missing gaps (since I don't know his full life story). 

So, I'll use a different name for the character based on SAK in the story which is set around the 1930s. This character is not exactly 100% the real individual but inspired by him. 

The other main protagonist of the story is the leopard which I mentioned in an earlier post. Apparently there was a whole bunch of leopards that would come down from the rocky, wild and ancient hills of the Eastern Ghats to hunt. 

The farm that SAK managed was 175 acres in size.  

From a leopard’s perspective, it must have smelled like an invitation to an all-you-can-eat restaurant with a range of livestock and poultry. 

The 1930’s colonial backdrop 

Unfortunately, I don't know all the details of SAK’s life because I never met him. I only heard second hand accounts from my grandmother and others who knew him like our aged cook Kuppan, or Kuppa Thatha (grandfather) as he was called, who was a teenager at that time.  

He used to come around a few times a week and cook yummy dishes like white mutton stew with carrots and peas, finger chips (potato wedges), prawn fry, coconut beef curry, fish cutlets and other good stuff. 

Kuppa Thatha had lost most of his teeth by this time and his pronunciation of stew sounded like “syou”, which rather fascinated me as a kid. And his stories of the past were mainly food-related. 

He liked to cook in the open air on a wood-burning stove that was set outside the house. He didn’t like the indoor kitchen or the gas stove after an accident with a pressure cooker. 

My grandmother would sit on her folding tape chair and supervise while I just hung out with them as a school kid on weekends and holidays. As he cooked, he would tell stories about how he used to make flat bread dripping with ghee for SAK and his family. My grandmother (SAK’s daughter) would join in and they would reminisce fondly about the old days. 

He’d talk about how SAK had a thing for daily herb-infused oil massages followed by an herbal scrub and a bath with Pears soap. This sounds like a nice spa treatment and the closest contemporary equivalent would be an organic skin care routine with Vitamin E to deep cleanse and moisturize.  

But it was an everyday ritual back when people had the time for hours long daily skin care treatments. My grandmother stuck to the Pears soap too, all her life. Even now, that particular fragrance reminds me of her.  

Kuppa Thatha would also talk about how he would wait behind the bungalow for the jutka (horse-drawn cart) full of provisions that would arrive from the nearest town. The town was a few miles away and the grocery run happened once a week because there was literally nowhere else to buy things nearby.  

This grocery run jutka had to be carefully guarded from leopards that would try to attack it. There were apparently man-eating leopards around and they weren’t averse to horses either. 

Visualizing the scenes 

I'm currently writing a scene building up to the confrontation between SAK and the leopards that would stroll down to help themselves to the farm buffet every now and then. 

I've been watching this video of a leopard “sawing”, which is the term for this particular vocalization, to get a feel for the scene. It does sound like a deep mechanical sawing sound.  

 

I've seen carpenters use big saws where two people would hold each end and drag it back and forth across the wood that they were slicing. This was before electric chain saws became common in remote areas.  

But the “sawing” sound of the leopard is not high pitched. There's something about the deep notes that feels ominous and chilling like a movie soundtrack that plays just before everything explodes into terrifying action.  

It's the feel of the waiting after one hears this sound. The build-up. The suspense that brings that sudden chill up the spine. I wonder what went through SAK’s mind when he heard this deep, grunting, sawing sound of the leopard, knowing that it was walking around the periphery of the land.  

The Perspective 

The only big cats I've ever seen were inside enclosures or on a screen and there was no danger of getting attacked by one, so it's a completely different mind-set from his experience.  

Maybe I was more fascinated with the fur pattern and the cute paws and tail of a big cat strolling around casually blinking at visitors. 

SAK didn’t have that luxury with nothing except air between him and the animal. He would have probably focused on the intense eyes fixed on him, the snarling fangs, the unsheathed claws and the tense crouched posture.  

I want to understand how he experienced it. 

SAK heard the sound of impending violence that could hit him at any moment. For me, viewing a big cat was just something interesting with no risk. For him, it was most likely a rush of heart-thumping adrenaline. 

He definitely wasn’t thinking “Pspsps” and hoping for a slow blink while sighting down the barrel of a rifle. 

He must have registered the distance. Tried to pinpoint its location. Assess likely attack points. Who and what was closest to it? All this must have happened in a flash. 

He knew the place and what to expect so he was prepared. He'd had plenty of nights camping out in the hills with the boy scouts he had been responsible for in the area. Had he heard the sawing sounds then? 

Coming back to the present...

… It's 3 AM now and I'm writing notes on my phone. Why am I trying so hard to figure out what went on in my ancestor’s head a century ago instead of sleeping like normal people do at this time? 😃 

There's a kind of brain rush when a story begins to flow that creative types know well. Maybe it's some kind of dopamine flood from problem solving. 

In this case, it's about the mental state of this protagonist. And one doesn't want to turn off that flow and state of immersion even if it's 3 AM. Not when you're visualizing this scene vividly.  

More visuals 

There's SAK climbing up the steps of his white bungalow straining to hear the faint sound of the leopard in the distance, mentally preparing for what he knows is coming. 

There's a clear visual of the rocky hills with shrubs growing over it. Somewhere behind one of those rocks, the leopard is sniffing at the air. 

There's the heavy feel of intense humidity and stillness around him as he freezes beside the tall white pillar and registers the sound. But there are trees blocking his view of the place where the sound originated. 

There's the muddy smell of the earth after the evening watering at the farm. Water vapour rises from the red ground making everything suffocatingly humid. 

Is there a flash of movement in the distance? Maybe a bunch of small stones rolling down the side of the slope as the leopard comes closer.  

And what's the internal state of this person? 

Living for years on the edge of the wild would have taught him the ways of the wilderness. 

There's no time for panic. This is when he needs to implement the plan of action that he already has. He may need to make adjustments to the plan depending on what the leopard does or where it goes.  

He listens carefully to identify its location. He needs his rifle. He needs to alert others on the farm. 

He needs to make sure that all the livestock and every staff quarter is locked down and the people are safely indoors. Except those who are equipped to deal with this situation. He needs to be ready for the actual confrontation when it comes. And hopefully it never does if he can just scare it away.  

But the leopards won’t stay away. Not when it’s hungry and there’s an easy hunting ground right there. 

And back to the present... 

There's a change of pace at this point in SAK’s story when the quiet evening turns into an emergency situation that he needs to handle… 

And my 3 AM brain is not up for going down that rabbit hole right now. So… I’m going to sleep now. 

Tomorrow I’ll work on the SAK and leopard story, the mongoose battle and the fruit-raiding macaques. And hopefully, publish this short story collection soon.

Writing life: A drive to the coast, trees, little cats and big cats

I took a break from writing fiction over the last weekend. 

Even two days off changes the thinking and writing patterns. It’s probably because the mind gets filled with lots of other thoughts and interactions with other people’s vibes. It’s like visiting vastly different head spaces.

We went for a drive to visit family in a small town on the coast called Machilipatnam or MTM as we call it because it’s such a big name to pronounce. And I was thrilled to see pink trumpet (tabebuia rosea) trees along the highway besides the usual yellow poinciana which have been around for years. 

They’re so pretty! 😍

I’m thankful to whoever had the thought to plant them. It’s a nice change from the minimal palmyra trees.

 

I guess the pink trees are part of the beautification drive for the areas surrounding the new capital city and quantum valley tech park that’s coming up. But they're sparsely planted. Wish they'd planted more!

 

Yellow poinciana in bloom🌳🌳🌳 

The mango trees are beginning to bloom. It’s mango season but the mango harvest only lasts about 2 months. Took some pictures under the mango trees at the house. And a Java plum tree and an orange tree that I started from seed and planted about 2 years ago. 

The Java plum has grown taller. It makes me happy to remember the little sapling which has now turned into a big tree. I hope it will grow there for many years and bring a happy vibe to everyone who sees it.

 

In my experience, it’s true that being surrounded by green spaces helps the mind get into a creative state easily. The Japanese have this concept of Shinrin yoku or “forest bathing” which is all about immersing one’s senses with the visuals, sounds and fragrance of a tree-filled atmosphere. It feels like a healing reset button for the psyche. 🌳🌴

It was late night by the time we got back to the city and Biscuitus had missed us so much but cheered up after some treats and petting. I feel really bad to leave him alone at home for longer than absolutely necessary. 

He made lots of biscuits to show how happy he was. Sweet little love!

 

😻 Biscuit maker paws 💖🐾 

 

I haven’t had time to focus on my Biscuitus stories because the historical fiction writing flow is going well. I’ve written about 40K words on the story I restarted over Lent. And I really want to finish it by the end of April.

I’ve been reading a lot of stories from other genres but set in the same time period and location to get a better feel for the setting. The funny thing is that the historical research gets a little too real when one dives in too much. I even dreamed about it. A kind of drone view dream of flying over that place during that time, a couple of centuries ago. It felt so real.

Maybe its a good thing because this level of immersion helps make the stories more realistic.

 

Little cat stories 

As for the Biscuitus stories, I’ve been thinking about a leopard character and a cheetah as his friends or supporting characters.  

I made this AI image of Biscuitus, the mighty Roman warrior for a vision board. It's the way I see him because he's got that cattitude 😹

 

Cheetahs and leopards are absolutely gorgeous. There’s something so thrilling about watching a Cheetah run. I feel sad for the prey but at least it was a quick end. I don’t want to outrun that cheetah LOL I wanna give him head scratches and chin rubs and call him my baby puddykins and cuddle him 😻💕

More cheetah cuteness but I'm not so sure about the idea of keeping them as house pets where they can’t run free and live free... unless it's to breed them till they can be on their own and release them into a safe habitat. Sadly, they're almost going extinct. I wish I could take care of a few 😄

 

Leopard stories from the old days 

My grandparents used to tell me big cat stories from the early days when they bought a few acres of land and built a house that was somewhat remote. 

Apparently, my great grandfather, who was a quiet school headmaster, owned a rifle and kept it in his house for self-defense from predators back in the early 1900s. I guess he was a bit of a "Shikar" or a "Shikari" (I don't know that language so not quite sure what the term is). 

He played the violin, read lots of books, taught school kids and toted a rifle around for when leopards would wander in from the hills. 

I never met him but this contrast between a book-reading, music loving, school headmaster who also killed leopards with what was most likely a single or double shot rifle intrigues me.

Imagine facing a growling fury with fangs and rip-you-apart claws with a rifle that could fire only one or two rounds! He'd have had to be deadly accurate with nerves of steel.

The all-knowing Google traced a research paper that he wrote and presented. Here are some poetic lines from it about the institute he managed, which also housed a farm and the school of which he was the headmaster:

"...As one goes along the road, winding in and out of the numerous barren knolls, which are a feature of the tract, one wonders whether any farm can have its existence in such a place. But the visitor is amply rewarded at the end by the presence of a beautiful farm, demonstrating how best such an inhospitable and barren land can be made to attract and yield." 

Unfortunately, I couldn't locate the entire paper but only this excerpt. But these lines he wrote reveal a poetic soul that suits the music and book loving headmaster. And he faced wild leopards with a rifle and only a couple of shots before it would lacerate one to shreds.

I saw some old black and white pictures of him and they don't show a big, brawny leopard hunter. He was a man of medium-stature with slicked back hair, a pencil thin mustache and calm, focused eyes. 

He was formally dressed in a suit and a thin tie. I guess this look was fashionable in the early to mid 1900s. The Clark Gable kinda look.

I try to construct a mental picture of a personality with such extreme contrasts. The duality between the civilized intellectual and the primal hunter. I guess the cool, collected eyes are the giveaway. He knew the stakes and went forward to meet it anyway.  

He wasn't hunting for sport. It was about survival and protecting the lives of the people and animals who lived there. 

Consider the risks involved. There was the risk of losing his life. And there was the much worse danger of being mauled so badly that he would be forced to live on in a damaged body for years rather than facing a quick death.

I see total main character energy in him from the point of view of a story writer. And a kind of thrill to know that he was my ancestor.  

 

 

Cute, majestic and dangerous puddykin who's likely making lunch plans! 

 

There was a story about a leopard that entered a bungalow. The woman of the house got so scared when she saw it that she climbed into an iron trunk. The leopard tried to get her out for quite some time.

After a while, it gave up and climbed up on a loft (houses were built with high ceilings back then because it was hot and there was no air conditioning). Her husband and my great grandfather realized what was going on and went in with rifles to chase it out.

I wonder what that moment felt like. You step carefully into the room where a stealthy apex predator lies in wait, heart pounding, finger on the trigger of a rifle that can fire only one shot. What if you lose your cool? Or accidentally fire that one shot and miss the glaring eyes, snarling fangs and heavily muscled creature that slams into you like an explosive?

You'd need to have the self control not to react. To suppress the reflex to act impulsively. And focus only on where and when the shot needs to land before the leopard tears you to shreds. 

Imagine the nerve it must have taken to look into the eyes of the predator to read its intention while knowing that it would recognize the direct eye contact as a challenge. 

And the discipline to wait for the exact split second before pulling the trigger. 

I wonder if he'd ever run a simulation of such moments in his mind before it ever happened knowing that he'd have to step up when the need presented itself. Had he mentally measured the distance between the rifle and the leopard's vital organs or the acceleration of the animal's spring while he sat with a book?

When the two of them went in, with two rifles and a couple of shots between them, they didn’t know that the big cat was sitting up on the loft. Not until it jumped down right on the man’s back and mauled him.  

They tried to shoot it but it escaped. I wonder if he was frustrated that the leopard got away. Or was it relief?

Fortunately, the man recovered from the mauling.

My grandmother did say that they had a leopard skin wall hanging in their house when she was a kid (probably another one). 

Back then, I guess wildlife preservation wasn’t a big focus (no human encroachment into their habitat meant a thriving wildlife) and it was about controlling a large predator population.

There were stories about leopards walking into human habitations to prey on small animals for food. 

There was another time when my grandmother and her sister were coming home from their British-run boarding school (early 1900s in the present-day TN/AP border hilly region called the ghats) for the holidays on their horse-drawn carriage or Jatka, when a leopard jumped over the horse. 

Maybe the leopard wanted to try horse or humans for dinner but he was scared away by the driver.

There were lots of stories like these.

I’d like to build on some of these original stories for my Biscuitus series.

It’s important to get the balance right for the story. A friendship or alliance between a small house cat and two big cats? Maybe they’re different in size but their personalities are on the same page? Or they share the same quest? Or the house cat has a big attitude to match his larger cousins?

The real Biscuitus has spread out on the day bed beside my desk, all four paws up in the air to cool down his furry belly. He’s dreaming about something because his whiskers and paws are twitching :D

He’s likely getting visions of the pigeons dancing and performing aerodynamic feats outside the balcony. And it's a full-on predator mode dream about grabbing them based on the way his paws are moving :D

He’s a dreamer too and deserves his own stories!

Guess he’s feeling the heat with that paws up pose. Summer’s set in and we’re already getting what we refer to as the outdoor sauna treatment.

 

My bougainvillea's leaves wilting in the heat 🔥 

 

It’s mid-April and the heat waves have begun on the South East coast. Day temperatures have already crossed 40 C and the nights’ lowest temp is about 25 so not enough to cool down. I’ve put a watermelon, musk melon and pomegranates in the fridge for dessert.

The only way through summer is to stay in an air conditioned environment. Inside a building or in a car. This is why no one here enjoys summer and we wait for the Southwest monsoon to kick in around late June and cool things down a bit with some rainy weather.

 

A rare rainy day in April with a view of trees from my balcony and gorgeous white egrets flying over them 💗 

 

If anyone ever reads this, please forgive the typos and punctuation. I edit when I have time but not always. These blog posts are meant to be a stream of consciousness, free flow writing exercise to unlock the flow when I feel creatively stuck. It’s just an exercise in writing whatever to get the fictional flow going again.

It’s not meant to be a professional piece of writing and it’s a creative exercise to get the mental brakes off, get out of the box and play around with words and expression. A kind of warm up before the actual workout.

I guess that’s a writing tip for writers and other creatives. Just get in and write whatever and the tap turns on. 

If anyone ever reads this, thank you for your patience with my ramblings and please drop me a comment or email or DM my biscuitus_catus Instagram, if anything resonated.

#writinglife #freeflowwriting #creativewritingexercise