Tomic Riter

Tag: raw

  • About other places.

    I hardly go anywhere. I go everywhere. I do not go anywhere in the manner in which most of them go. Oh how they go. Trash people. I prefer to stay away from all of them. But sometimes, things aren’t in my hands. That’s life. Nobody owes me anything. I owe nothing to anybody. I’ve got my own way of living and it doesn’t go well with most of them. I do not give a damn. I cannot always make myself understandable to anyone. Those days are gone for me as well as for them. All they can do now with me is disagree with me. I prefer their disagreements. I prefer they disagree with me and leave me alone. There’s no growth in being with them or around them. They belong in the herd and I hunt alone. Trash people are hard to deal with. An army of trash people is impossible to deal with. The best course of action is to be a patient listener and ignore their trash and do whatever the hell you feel is the right thing to do.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Failures and failures and failures.

    After two failures in publishing book, I sometimes ask myself, how many more failures will come in my way. But I ask that only to myself and that too only sometimes. It’s not a hard question to put before someone else, but no they probably won’t understand.

    The failure isn’t that I haven’t published. Only I couldn’t make the sale that I was expecting. I can tell myself that it was never about the money. But then, I would be fooling myself. Somewhere, it is about the money. It is about the money because all I want to live on is writing. Wish I understood the significance of money earlier. I would have participated more actively in my own endeavours.

    As I write and write, I also look at what is selling these days the most. It’s mostly trash. Trash poetry. Trash YA books. Trash fantasy novels. Trash motivational books. Realism is dead. Brutality is dead. Rawness of the writing tied upside down and screwed like a pig. Their books are made of feathers and foam. Sleep on them and throw them in the bin the next hour.

    But they make a selling. Well, people are the kings. They elect their oppressors, and trash is what they want to read.

    I cater to a small group of readers. The mad, insane ones. The leftovers. The outlaws. The wicked. The ones who are beyond the law itself.

    I can never write what sells. I write what I write. I cannot write like they do, but then, they too cannot write like I do. We can never meet in a common space. That’s a bitter truth and a final one.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS