I have always been a confident person, at times, even foolishly over-confident. I have always been self-reliant, or at least, I try to be. But writing has always been some sort of a sensitive issue for me. Like a million others, I also had a dream too big to publish my own book, and fear of not accomplishing it always got the better of me. I mean I really got my own back most of the times, but all of us have that one (okay maybe like, three) thing that makes us scared, right? Scared of falling.
Writing a book was my dream and it was so big, it scared me. I could wright, alright. But would it be good enough? Would it get published? And most importantly, would someone even read it? Who wants to be a failure, right? So, I decided what was best for me – to not write the book at all and keep sighing about how I would love to write one. I know, I know – I was silly and scared. But it seemed to work for me because according to my twisted logic – you can’t lose if you aren’t even a part of the race, right?
Wrong. I’ll tell you how.
I was already blogging for years when I met my now-husband, and who fell in love with my writings as quickly as – according to him – he did with my awesome personality. True story. (Also, I’m telling it my way, hee hee)
My husband would always say things like ‘write your book.’ or ‘have you thought about a topic for your book?’ or the most annoying ‘Write the damn thing!’. I ignored all of it because I had other things working out for me in life. I had buried the Book Dream deep inside my bookshelf, somewhere between my over-used and over-read Harry Potter collection and the really old stolen-from-school-library Nancy Drew novels. Two years down the marriage, I was expecting my first baby and because I had stopped working from the fourth months onwards, I began to feel really annoyed at all the free time. So I did what any sensible, self reliant woman of today would do – I started cribbing about it.
Oh, the drama of nothing to do!
Mom an dad wanted nothing to hear of it – they wanted me to just relax, eat everything healthy in the world, and have a good time. The husband had a prompt response, though. “Why don’t you write the book you’ve always wanted to write?” – he said. Yeah, just like that. Like it was no biggie! I felt annoyed.
“I can’t just write a book!” I snapped.
“Of course you can.” He said calmly.
“Pffttt. I haven’t even decided on a topic.” I waved my hand dismissively.
“You have a handwritten list of 23 topics.” He pointed out.
“WTF? You read my diary?”
“You wrote it on the back of an ATM slip last year, when we were eating burgers and discussing it.” he said.
“Plus, you don’t have a diary, do you?”
“Nah. I don’t.” I said. “I have a blog and that’s pretty much it.”
“And the blog does well! All by itself!” He said cheerfully. “Imagine how cool a book will be!”
“Well, it will be super duper cool.” I admitted. “But what if it’s no good?”
“It will be “Super Duper Good”.” He assured me using air-quotes.
“What if no publisher wants it? What if no one reads it?” I said.
“Well, I’ll read it. Our baby will read it. And I’ll make sure the entire family, extended-family on both sides reads it, including their friends. That has to be some two thousand people, right?” he said, and winked.
“Well…what if I fail?” I asked.
“Well, what if you don’t?” He said.
That was that. With his unrelenting faith in my writing abilities (which makes me rather nervous, to tell you the truth) and with my parents joining forces with him – I finally began to write my first story. My first book. And boy, once I started writing it – there was nos topping me. I wrote for hours and nights and odd hours. Which also meant that I spent hours discussing it with my husband. After all it was a story of an Army Wife’s life and I needed his expert hep at times, but more than that, I needed reassurance. I – the over confident girl – was craving for encouragement like never before because this, let’s face it, was my biggest dream. I was writing my first book! It could have gone anywhere from here. I was scared and ecstatic and shy and jubilant and a lot of other things I should refrain from mentioning here – they already call me Adi Crazy f’gossake!
My book was finally complete, edited and also, accepted by Westland Books in a time frame of just a few months, and at every step I had my husband – to calm me down while editing the book, to keep me away from panic attacks I was about to have before sending the manuscript to the editor, to tell me it will be great anyway. And most importantly, he guided and encouraged me to grow into a better, more self-reliant person. Because getting the book published or seeing it in a best seller list is all secondary – the strength to conquer y own fear of failure was the main thing. He is the driving force behind the book. I would have never put a word down, if not for him and my parents. I would still me telling people at random parties about how I “one day” dream to see my name on the cover of a published book, if not for my husband’s unadulterated love and unwavering support for my craft. (yeah, I call it that. Writing is my craft.)
Through the support of my husband, I realized the to overcome my fear, is the only way towards the big dream, a dream I always thought was too big for me. And now you can read my awesome book – it got published and is doing really, really good (touch wood!), it has my name on it and everything, heehee! It’s like a dream, I know. And I thank the universe for it with all my heart.
This is the story behind my book, and this is what I think of when I see the HDFC Life #MyFamilyMyPride ad film.
What a beautiful TVC
that is! I wish all of us have more confidence in ourselves, and at the
times we don;t feel so hot about something, I wish all of us have
someone to help us through it – help us find out true self.
This post was inspired by the #MyFamilyMyPride
ad film by http://www.hdfclife.com/.