The writer who couldn't write, right.
- Drishti Nanwani
- Jan 9, 2019
- 2 min read

Once upon a time, there was a writer who couldn't write.
What a miserable existence it was, not being able to do the thing that she felt she was born to do.
Was it because she had lost her touch, or was it just the crippling perfectionism that was holding her back?
The story was one that was very important to her and very close to her heart, she just had to get it right. She owed it to the characters and the story to get it right. Somehow though, even after rewriting and rewriting, it never felt quite deep enough, honest enough, real enough, emotional enough.
This was the story about her greatest heartbreak, her greatest loss. The one that still plagued her, even ten years later. But it was about so much more than that. Yes, it was important to get it right and do that loss justice, but it was also important to make it feel real and to dig deep enough so that the readers would feel what she felt at the time.
Books were meant to be like old friends, they are meant to make you feel heard and understood, as though someone else has maybe faced something similar to what you have faced. That someone else maybe knows the same pain that once broke you. They are supposed to make you feel less alone in that pain and in the world, knowing that others have gone through it too. That is the magic in literature.
Its not the fantastical worlds or the cute romantic interests, although those definitely help too.
Speaking of characters, these ones were great. Lana reflected the author very well, but she was also everything the author wished she could be. Dylan, the romantic interest was dreamy and cute and talented and almost perfect. He saw through her masks and recognized the loss in her eyes.
The writer had even done research. She had visiting locations for the novel and gotten lost in the magical land of the UK, picturesque and wonderful London.
So then why couldn't she just finish it? what was standing in her way?
Perhaps it was the fact that she was procrastinating, complaining on her blog about her inability to write! Maybe this was a slump she just had to force her way through.



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