Leibster Blog Award

Thank you, Dola Basu Singh (http://shiuli.com/2014/10/14/leibster-blog-award/) for nominating me for the Leibster Blog Award. It's both an encouragement and an honor :).

11 facts about myself:

1. I am a pharmacist by vocation, now studying for a post-graduate degree in clinical pharmacy.

2. My three passions in life are reading, writing and research in the pharmaceutical field.

3. I aspire to be a neuroscientist in the future- and make some big breakthroughs in this field.

4. I hope that someday, I can write a good horror novel.

5. I am a consummate foodie, but I also love to cook- I get quite experimental in the kitchen.

6. I love discovering more about the disciplines of sociology, psychology and psychiatry.

7. I love watching Hollywood movies and American TV crime shows- Criminal Minds, Dexter, Hannibal, CSI etc.

8. Secretly, I am a big fan of horror novels and TV shows- American Horror Story, Supernatural, Stephen King, Bram Stoker etc.etc.

9.I have three diaries filled with two unfinished novels lying in my drawer.

10. I write a web mini-series called The Face-Off Killer on this very blog.

11. I wrote two short stories in the eighth grade and a novel in the tenth grade- which I have never shown anyone.

My answers to Dola's questions:

1. What were you like at school?

Ans: An introverted, awkward nerd with her nose always stuck in a book.

2.Were you good in English?

Ans: Yes- I got a proficiency prize every year.

3. Which writers inspire you?

Ans: Dostoevsky, Stephen King, Dan Brown, James Patterson, Agatha Christie, Henry James, Stieg Larsson, Arthur Conan Doyle etc.

4.What genre are your books/stories/unpublished manuscripts?

Ans: All my manuscripts are crime thrillers. Most of my stories are as well, but some are horror, some are slices-of-life types as well.

5.What draws you to this genre?

Ans: Crime fiction allows me to explore the dark recesses of the human mind, the evil lurking within our psyches, and helps me understand the motivations behind some of the most bestial, inhumane acts humans are capable of committing.

6.When did you decide to become a writer?

Ans: I wrote two short stories when I was in the eighth grade. Since then I knew I wanted to become a writer.

7. Where do your ideas come from?

Ans: From science journals, magazines, newspapers, TV shows, books and observing real life people and incidents.

8. What is the easiest thing about writing?

Ans: The 'thinking' and 'planning' about writing is the easiest part.

9. What is the most difficult thing about writing?

Ans: Writing and finishing any piece- whether a short story or a novel- is the most difficult part. And then comes editing, of course.

10. Do you ever get Writer’s Block? How do you overcome it?

Ans: I do get stuck in the middle of a story sometimes. I usually read, continue other writing projects or watch a TV show- all of which help unclog the 'story jam'.

11. What book(s) are you reading at the moment?

Ans: Henry James's collection of short stories, Henri Cherriere's Papillon and The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat by Dr. Oliver Sacks.

My questions for my nominees:

1.What is the ultimate aim of blogging or writing?

2.What is the story behind your blog name?

3.What’s your favorite genre- science fiction, fantasy, romance, comedy, crime…?

4.Who is your favorite author?

5.Which writers inspire you?

6.In what genre are your books/stories/unpublished manuscripts?

7.When did you decide to become a writer?

8.Who is that one writer you would absolutely want to emulate in your writings?

9. Apart from writing, what are your other interests?

10. Do you have a playlist of songs you like to listen to while writing?

11. Do you believe that consumption of caffeine boosts creativity?

I nominate Ushasri Nannapaneni (http://ushaveera68.wordpress.com/2014/10/14/202/), Aarti Venkatraman, Neelesh Gajanan Inamdar, Devika Fernando (http://www.devikafernando.com/) and Manogna MG. I hope all of these amazing people and authors take up this challenge :).

American Beauty

American Beauty

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Oliver whispered to his best friend squatting beside him, his forehead creased with worry and drenched in sweat.

“Yeah! We are, dude. Why the hell do you have to be such a chicken every time I try to get us to do something new? I think the room has a TV…American Beauty is on!” Gareth replied in a whisper, his gaze straight ahead.

“Because this is crazy, Gary! We’re spying on the Reverend’s daughter, for heaven’s sake! On a particularly warm summer night!” Oliver whispered, squinting to get a better look inside the window of what they assumed was Reverend Morgan’s daughter Angela’s bedroom. Oliver left his glasses behind in his house when Gary had sneaked inside his bedroom and asked him to follow him for a nighttime adventure.

“Why do you wanna do this anyway?” Oliver asked.

“Are you kidding me? Haven’t you seen Angie Morgan? She’s like the prettiest girl in class! What with those blue eyes, and those gorgeous lips…and don’t get me started about that butt of hers…it’s like a peach! I’m not a religious person, but that girl’s beauty is divine!” Gary replied.

“Of course I have seen Angela, and she is beautiful. But still, we are a pair of peeping Toms looking inside a girl’s bedroom. We’re violating her privacy!” Oliver observed.

“Don’t be such a goody-goody, Oliver. And why the hell are you squinting inside her bedroom if…wait a second…what the hell!” Gareth whispered, staring inside the , which was wide open, with his eyes as wide as tennis balls.

“What? What is it, Gary? What’s happening? Tell me!” Oliver whispered.

“What is the Reverend doing in Angie’s bedroom? Where the hell is she?” Gary whispered.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Reverend Morgan just entered Angie’s room…he looks gross in those shorts and vest. He’s watching American Beauty, for God’s sake! What a pervert!” Gary whispered.

“Seriously? He’s the pervert? We’re trespassing inside someone’s property to peep inside a girl’s bedroom and he’s the pervert for watching American Beauty?” Oliver whispered, smacking the back of his friend’s head.

“Stop playing the moral police, you moron! Angie’s the Reverend’s daughter so I can never hang out with her in public or make her my girlfriend. This is my only way to be near her. Plus, the Reverend is a man of God and men of God don’t watch a sexy hot movie,” Gary whispered in reply.

“That’s a load of bullcrap!”

“Shut up! Let me watch, now!”

Five minutes passed with both friends squatting in silence in the bushes, with only the sounds of the insects chirping around them and the cover of darkness for company.

“What’s happening inside?” Oliver whispered.

“Getting bored, huh! Well…the Reverend seems to be enjoying the movie. Ah gross!” Gary exclaimed in a whisper.

“What?”

“He just put his hand inside his shorts. There’s a racy scene going on in the movie. Guy’s a hypocrite. Disgusting!” Gary whispered.

“Yikes. It’s a good thing I didn’t get my glasses,” Oliver observed.

“Yeah…it’s not a pretty site. Wait, what the hell!” Gary whispered urgently.

“What now?”

“Angie just entered the room…wow! She’s wearing…shorts and a tank top! Ummmm!” Gary replied with a whisper, licking his lower lip with his tongue.

“Are you sure you should look?” Oliver asked.

“Cut the crap…wait! Oliver! Something’s going on here. Angie has a gun in her hands!”

“What? What gun?” Oliver asked, squinting inside the window.

“It’s a Colt .45. What the…she’s coming up behind her father…holy crap!”

“What’s happening? Gary? What’s going on?”

“Angie’s aimed the gun at the back of her father’s head.”

“Oh my God! Do you think we should…”

BANG.BANG.BANG.

Both boys were so startled that they fell backwards, their heads hitting the hard ground with a soft thud, their mouths instinctively clamped shut with their hands to suppress their screams of panic.

“Gary?” Oliver whispered.

“Yeah?” Gary whispered in reply.

“Were these gunshots?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Oliver. Angie shot her father. Three times. Oh God,” Gary replied, closing his eyes.

He opened them immediately, because with his eyes closed he could only see the horrible visage of the back of the Reverend’s head exploding like a ripe watermelon and a river of blood gushing out- some of it also spraying on Angie.

“I doubt there is a God if that angel of a girl can shoot her father,” Oliver commented, wiping some sweat off his face. He realized his shirt was drenched too and stuck to his chest.

It was the second time that night he was thankful he had forgotten his glasses at home.

“Oliver?” Gary whispered.

“Yeah?”

“This is our little secret, okay? No one ever needs to know what we just saw.”

“Don’t you think we should call the police and report the crime?”

“And getting caught for trespassing and trying to peep in Angie’s house? No thank you!”

“You’re right. I didn’t think of that eventuality.”

“Besides you just called her an angel yourself. Do you really wanna see her in jail for patricide?”

“No, I don’t. You’re right. We will take this secret with us to the grave.”

“Yeah. Now let’s scoot from here before the whole neighborhood realizes what happened and comes running here,” Gary replied, and tried to think of how to manage sitting up without the top of his head showing above the bushes. If Angela happened to see Oliver and him, he was sure their heads would be the next to explode like watermelons.

“You think the neighbors heard the shots? Angie shot the Reverend point blank,” Oliver whispered, lifting his body off the ground and trying to get his bearings in the dark.

“Yeah, but the sound wasn’t that muted. If we heard it then the immediate neighbors must have heard it too. Shit, someone’s coming. Come on!”

Both boys managed to run away just before the first neighbor knocked on the Reverend’s door three minutes later.

WIP Blog Contest

Thanks to Reet Singh (http://www.reetsingh.in/wip-amitree.php) for nominating me. Here is a fascimile from the first few chapters of my WIP- The Mystery of Stokerville. This is my first foray into the interesting but tough genre of horror.

Blurb: Jenny and her friends go to a cabin, named Stokerville, owned by one of Jenny’s uncle- who mysteriously disappeared in the mansion some years back Things start to go wrong from day one of their stay. The girls feel watched while in the shower or changing clothes, the boys discover mysterious bite marks on their bodies when they wake up in the morning. All of them have terrible, recurrent, vivid nightmares. Something lurks in the basement. Creepy shadows steal across the hallways and rooms, even during the day time. There is also a stunning discovery- the diary of Jenny’s uncle, written in the days before his disappearance. The kids try to escape...but discover they can't, and then they come face to face with the evil that forms the foundation of the house

First chapter: “Help! Somebody help me!” she screamed, running along the long, twisting corridor. The walls had wall brackets with lamps illuminating the passageway, and also some strange drawings on the wallpaper- women screaming, people ripping out other people with knives, the face of The Beast and other such grotesque illustrations.

Second Chapter: “Are we sure we should be doing this?” Jenny asked, looking at the looming edifice towering in front of her. The first seed of doubt had crept into her mind the moment they had turned onto the dirt road, branching off from the Maine-New Hampshire Interstate. The seed had grown into a full-fledged plant of doubt when she saw the abandoned cabin, firmly ensconced in the shadow of the dense canopy of trees looming over and around it, giving it a strangely creepy look. It didn’t help that the place was called as Stokerville- apparently in honor of Bram Stoker.

Third chapter: “I must tell you, Jenny, weird or not, your uncle had a fantastic idea of building a bachelor pad,” Tashi commented, as they had dinner at the glass dining table in the kitchen.

“Yeah! I mean…I’m seriously impressed by his collection of books. I could sit in that study for days on end and read. It’s perfect- volumes of horror anthologies and tomes of horror novels by authors around the world…in a cabin called Stokerville in the middle of nowhere. Just perfect,” Rudy added.