I worked hard. When I started writing, I did not know how to write more than hundred words about one topic. I had never taken part in any essay writing competitions at school. I was an orator and I dreaded writing so much. My handwriting was poor and I did not have any idea about translating thoughts into words on paper.
I used to narrate stories to my college classmates. Some of them encouraged me so much and said they would love to read it as a book or make it into a movie. Writing was a less expensive trial so I chose to write.
I started writing and I should admit that the first few stories were pathetic. I was not able to exactly bring the scene in my thought into the imagination of readers, I managed somehow to give them an idea of it. A lot of my readers were kind to me and they encouraged me with their comments and feedback. I took each and every feedback seriously. I included all the suggestions in my word. My readers moulded me into whoever I am today. I have improved so much I should say and I know I still have a long way to go.
I spent two years to come up with a story, think about every character, narrate it to more than fifty patiently to know how they react, beta ran it in my blog as a short story and thought about all the loop holes. It took me two years to completely make it into a manuscript. I was so excited and I sent samples to a very reputed publishing house. Within 2 months I got a reply from a writer, who I used to respect a lot for achieving so much at a very young age, asking for entire manuscript. I sent it and waited to receive a rejection. A few months later some other publisher published my book.
A year after her reply, the writer published a book with a very similar plot and a lot of similarities including the baseline of the story. I wept. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I will get humiliated by her fans if I voice it out. I thought people will judge me and call it my path to cheap publicity and fame. I was scared and that made me do nothing more than feeling hurt and cheated. At that point, it hurt me that the book of the writer who cheated me this way had taken the place of my book. I thought I would have got more number of readers if it was my book in the stores in the place of hers. Every interview she had given, where she spoke about this particular book, boiled my blood a degree more. I was dejected. I stopped to write for a while. I thought that was a deadend to my dream to become a writer.
All of a sudden a little hope came with sunshine one morning. A new sense of confidence cropped in. A voice inside said, when someone as popular and successful in writing had something to copy from me, I had something in me to write. My longtime doubt of whether I was on the right track had cleared. Only because my script was good it was used, I thought. This optimism has made me write again. I will keep writing till I become the “Writer” that the word means to me.
This optimistic thought gave me the confidence and courage to voice it out. Even now, I might lose the fight that’s going on but I am optimistic about the failure, if I fail. If I am successful justice is served if I fail fighting I am sure this won’t happen that easily to anyone else again, at least not by the same writer.
This is written as a part of indi happy hour by https://housing.com/lookup.