I stay as far as I can from these kinds of books. The title invokes in me images of a confused woman and her quest to be liberated. God! Is that all there is : confused women?
However, I stumbled a another book by the same author in the non-fiction series that was about creativity. I could connect so perfectly with her life. She too was a writer from birth. These tendencies, can’t be made up. Reading her thesis on creativity invigorated me and I found more sympathy towards the above book.
me as a writer
Reading her book :
It became more and more apparent why i didn’t become a famous writer:
- i was not good enough
- i hadn’t practiced enough
- my time hasn’t come yet
- i live in the wrong place that decreases my probability to succeed significantly even if all the above 3 conditions were somehow met
I guess it is the same reason I am not the world famous trainer, consultant and entrepreneur, all that i could have become.
coming to my age of 45 , i realize that may be all my dreams were just images on the cloud: magnificient, amazing but evading.
May be I was chasing a rainbow: every body knows it doesn’t exist but as a over zealous child, I ran after them. Simply because no on else was running after it.
I didn’t find any treasures at the base of the rainbow.
Instead I found the equivalent in experiences: people, disappointments, success, failure , in an vast tapestry.
I took up so many identities, lived so many lives all in one lifetime.
Despite all of this i doubt it i will one day be someone people will admire in droves. Not that it is important. I can live as a unknown recluse and die happily thus. However I just believe that the world could learn a lot from my life.
So I wish secretely that one day my writing will be famous and i will get rich from that too.
