I tend to write in whatever piece of paper or notebook I find and then forget all about it. The other day I opened a tiny notebook with a kantha-stitched cover, where I note down the bills I have to pay and then score them out once I have paid them, and found written in pencil these lines:
The short story demands to be understood while the novel demands to be embraced. In all these years of back-breaking familiarity with the novel, I have stepped out to make a shy acquaintance with the short story. Hence these enthusiastic dates with the lean, mean and demanding form of fiction.
I thought, not bad! The lines are pretty good. But what was I writing about? A book of short stories yes but which one? Obviously I was reading something inspiring and these lines were meant to start the post for this blog but for the life of me I don’t remember what that book was. I didn’t date the note so I don’t know when it was either! I got the notebook in Shantiniketan so this much I know, the note was written after 2010. I don’t have much of clue beyond this.
Note to self: I must be more organised and at least keep all incomplete notes in one place.
Does this sound familiar? Do you also write anywhere and everywhere and then forget about it?
That reminds me, I think I found an old poem that I wrote in an old bag. I must go retrieve it before someone throws it out.