You remember slam books, right? Those slim, rectangular journals your friends would ask you to fill up, typically on the last day of class before school closed for session break? They would have forms with questions about your sun sign, hobbies, chosen travel destination, favourite food, best friend, dream job and things like that. I remember filling a bunch of them in my teen years, taking time to write honest and innovative answers each time someone handed me their slam book (yes, I took it very seriously, no regrets). A lot of my answers changed over the years (favourite food changed from Fried Hilsa to Chicken Biriyani to Crispy Lotus Stem; best friend changed from.. no maybe I shouldn\u2019t go there). But one answer remained the same. Under dream job, I always put \u2018Writer\u2019.<\/p>\n
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Back then, being a writer meant being a writer of literature. English and Bengali literature classes were the ones I enjoyed most- I wrote poems, essays, musings, travelogues. I sent my writing for publication here and there (not to brag, but some did get picked up), and I kept hoarding notebooks (especially ones with fabric covers \u2013 Bandhani, Kantha Stitch, Khesh, Tie Dye – you name it). I decided to pursue English Literature in college, which is when my relationship with writing became more complicated.<\/p>\n
I was reading a diverse range of writing, and beginning to doubt myself more and more. Five years later with a B.A. and M.A. in English in my pocket and a total dissolution of my faith in myself as a writer, I opted for another Master of Media Arts. By the time I was done, I realized that literature was my home turf after all, and I still wanted to be a writer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy did you study media art then?\u201d \u201cWhy did you give up your writing habit?\u201d \u201cDo you think you\u2019ll ever make up for the time you lost?\u201d The voices in my head were loud and cruel. They told me that my dream job was out of reach, that I\u2019d made a mess of my abilities, and that it was too late to do anything about it. I still kept applying to writer jobs, even though I didn\u2019t want to \u201csell stuff through my writing\u201d as I put it. The bigger issue was that I didn\u2019t have any experience in this kind of writing, and felt no motivation to upskill.<\/p>\n
Eventually, cosmic forces (or the LinkedIn algorithm \u2013 maybe they\u2019re one and the same), brought me to Hachi Bee. As Bee\u2019s \u2018Storyteller\u2019, I began writing about company culture. Self-doubt plagued me before and during each submission, only to be diminished by Karina\u2019s constant encouragement and meticulous feedback. I found it a little easier to believe that I could still write.<\/p>\n
Five months on, I daresay I\u2019ve learnt a few things about writing itself:<\/p>\n
In today\u2019s world, creative writing doesn\u2019t just mean poetry\/fiction\/drama\/screenplay. Content writing IS creative writing. B2B writing IS creative writing. B2C writing IS creative writing. Inbound marketing strategies thrive on creative thinking and storytelling. The demarcation between creative writing and content writing is a fallacy that obstructs many writers from making full use of a wide array of writing strategies from different genres. I used to think that I knew nothing about writing for client organisations. But now that I\u2019m getting into it, I find that there are many elements you can choose from an existing creative writing practice and implement in content writing contexts. At the end of the day, you are trying to tell a story \u2013 be it about a magical queendom or a pharmaceutical company.<\/p>\n
OK, this one is a little controversial. Until a couple of years ago, I believed that writing is like singing \u2013 you either have the voice or you don\u2019t. But now I don\u2019t think it\u2019s so black and white. Yes, you\u2019d have to have a fundamental sense of language and its rules if you want to write, but there are ways in which you can teach yourself to evolve as a writer. Ann Handley\u2019s Everybody Writes: Your Go-To Guide to Creating Ridiculously Good Content<\/a> is one such resource. When Karina first recommended it to me, the English Lit snob in me scoffed at the phrase \u201cEverybody Writes\u201d (But should they? Quipped the snarkiest voice in my head). After reading the book, I realize that writing is less about your innate abilities and more about your love for labour<\/a>. You work at it, bit by bit, day by day, and the process becomes your prize. That process includes reading books<\/a> and newsletters, taking courses<\/a>, going back to your own writing and trying to study it objectively, and writing \u2013 every single day<\/a>.<\/p>\n I can\u2019t work if I\u2019m not alone. When I sit down to write, I like to close my door and draw the curtains, creating a dark, cave-like atmosphere that worries my family (\u201cShe doesn\u2019t get enough sun!\u201d). This is what I need when I have to concentrate on something \u2013 pin drop silence, palpable stillness and absolute isolation. But in the past few months, I\u2019ve learnt that writing can be a collaborative process. That doesn\u2019t mean I have to write with someone (this is still a nightmare scenario for me), but I can be open to feedback and edits from other writers whose work I admire. Having my work edited or commented on does not feel intrusive \u2013 it feels enriching. Working for a company that helps businesses navigate customer joy<\/a> (I love that phrase!), I grew to understand that to yield the best results for our clients, we need to work with others to produce content that responds to all<\/strong> their<\/em> needs.<\/p>\n I could go on and on about writing as a practice and a craft (a few weeks ago, I spent half an hour using metaphors to describe my writing process to my therapist, true story), which is something I never thought I would be doing at the beginning of this year. At Bee, I feel inspired to write more, write better and eventually wade into the previously-and-still-daunting-to-me waters of business writing and technical writing.<\/p>\nWriting doesn\u2019t have to be a solitary process<\/h3>\n