Betty Joseph

Tag: short stories

  • The dog, the birds and the spider in the corner

    The dog, the birds and the spider in the corner

    I find myself in a fascinating new season this year. One that has seen me pack a big blue suitcase and move across the ocean. I surprised myself because I always thought I related to Bilbo Baggins and his reluctance to join a Dwarf mission! But here I am. 5000 miles away from home!

    A part of my heart will always be at home with my beloved Coco, yet a new friend has made this transition a little less heavy. An adorable dog named Hershey.

    This sweet little dog – I really mean it when I say little – barked at me for 30 minutes when we met for the first time. After exhausting himself, he realized it was easier to befriend me rather than bark at me. Now, he scolds me for leaving the house, insists I share my food, sleeps on my lap while I work, and has peed on me thrice (out of sheer excitement).

    Besides Hershey I met a few other creatures since moving. The other day, I went out to investigate an unusual rustling sound and met the blue-tongued lizard that lives in the garden. Of course, I did not wait around long enough to see its tongue. I admit I am not that brave. It had legs, the right colours and stripes – that was more than I needed to know. A quick Google search solved the rest of the mystery.

    Speaking of wild animals, I saw a fox leaping by the side of the road during a late-night drive. That was exciting since I had only seen them in zoos before (and on my Firefox browser).

    A reckless kangaroo took me by surprise one night when it jumped out of the bushes and landed in front of the car! Phew. We did not hit the animal thanks to quick reflexes (on my sister’s part) and a high-pitched scream (apparently mine) that alerted my sister to its presence.

    I should mention the rather sizeable group of Corellas that I get to see from my window everyday. These birds own the sidewalk, trees, and power lines. And the screeching noise they make is unbelievable! But I am getting used to it now; their chattering is like white noise.

    The spiders are one species I hope to never meet during my stay here. I know I cannot avoid them forever, so I always have a broom and a can of insect repellent within arm’s reach. Although, considering my track record with spiders, there is a good chance I might spray my eyes or hit myself on the head with the broom when the moment comes.

    Ah, the stories I could tell about spider encounters from my childhood! Stick around. I am working on capturing some of these stories in my upcoming book.

  • When writing a book felt like biting more than I could chew

    When writing a book felt like biting more than I could chew

    A few years ago, an idea struck. I wanted to write and publish a delightful story about the animals in my backyard. But, I knew nothing about the finer aspects of writing a book. Without wasting time, I enrolled in an online course on the art of writing for different audiences. After sessions with published authors and writing exercises, I was finally ready.

    I wrote the first draft of my story.

    But the next day, I scrapped it.

    Then, I wrote a second draft, followed by a third.

    Two days later, I scrapped both versions.

    Seven drafts later, I buried the whole story, hiding in folders within folders. The problem was that I felt my poor little story did not measure up to what the course creators claimed a book was supposed to be like. Trying to alter the story to fit a standard only made it worse.

    In the months that followed I was drawn to book stores and libraries wherever I traveled. What I saw expanded my insight. There were so many different styles, voices and formats and some of the best ones in fact defied norms. But I still did not return to writing the book.

    For the next couple of years, I folded my book-writing desires, shoved it somewhere deep and focused on my job. But it was like trying to keep a lid down on a pot of boiling milk. When my contract finished, I knew what I had to do. The writing kicked off once again, but this time, it was fueled by rage for time wasted trying to meet some invisible standard.

    The self-publishing process was not easy and deserves its own post. My goal was simple: publish a good, readable (and enjoyable) book without errors rather than aim for a ‘bestseller’ on my first attempt.

    After rounds of revisions and collaborating with my brother from Sculpt Monkey for illustrations, “The dog who let out his awooo” got published to Indian audiences late last year. Then I shut down and went to sleep, relieved and exhausted.

    Surprisingly, I want to do it all over again, without the crippling self-doubt, of course. As I work on my second book, I remind myself of one thing alone – I can be me through the words I type.