The disruption caused by ChatGPT is not new to any of the readers who may read this piece. Before I started typing this, I just read an article which said about 200+ Kindle ebooks have been published on Amazon which state ChatGPT as author or co-Author. And there are enough voices who (perhaps rightly) are calling foul over possible copyright infringements. I have been following AI tools that support writers in various ways (editing, trimming and finally draft generation in partial ways) through Joanna Penn’s awesome blog. Hence to confess, my aversion towards Artificial Intelligence as a partner is sort of lower than many of my writer friends on the internet. Perhaps my short stint as a Venture Capital analyst made me love the word disruption.

So I enthusiastically tried out of of the tools that was specifically prepared to assist in Fiction writing (No, not our friend by OpenAI-Microsoft. This is a different one.) This tool (Sudowrite) as an interesting feature called guided write where it expands a short prompt into a 200-500 long draft. As any artist, I confess my ego is high while I create and letting in the creation of a tool is something of an anomaly. Unless that tool understands me or makes a semblance of it at least. Perhaps that’s why I am enjoying writing this draft assisted by Sudowrite because”

• It feels like I have company
• A company that understands me
• A companion that keeps me going when I am fatigued and hence not let micro blocks hold me back.

Here it goes, a sample chapter. from a draft that reimagines one of my favourite episodes of Mahabharata – Kirata Parva. The text in red is what is generated by AI while the plain black text is written by me. Right, the AI generates it depending upon the text written by me till the point and on the prompt given by me. For eg

Chapter Three – Kailasa

The rays of morning sun bathed the silver peak of Mount Kailasa in a golden hue. Indra considered the rocky pinnacle that housed the God of Gods. It was not uncommon to seek the refuge of the Great God in times of universal duress. But the duress that Indra faced now was being torn as a father and as a force that preserved the universal order – Dharma. Indra bowed to the sacred mountain and took his bejeweled crown off his head, as his feet landed on the snowy ground.

The sound of a conch and the rhythmic sounds of Dhamaru greeted his ears as did the resonant chants of the Yajur Veda by the Rishis collected at the foot of the hills.

(The prompt I gave here was : He sees that Lord Shiva was about to perform Taandava to entertain Parvati. They see Indra and invite him to playflute for the performance)

He followed the direction of the sounds until he reached there. The sight that greeted Indra’s eyes made him stand still for a moment. For there on the centre stage, Lord Shiva was performing his Tandava, with Lordess Parvati seated by his side. He had draped himself in serpents and his third eye glowed with intense energy as he whirled around with fervent devotion to this very ancient form of dance.

Dazzlingly bright flames lit up in all directions, illuminating their sacred environment and providing music to the divine couple’s performance. And then Indra saw Lord Shiva pause, His matted locks twirling and settling over His shoulders as He looked straight at Indra and raised His hand towards Him.

“Ah! Welcome, King of Gods! It is such an honor to have you here.” Shiva said warmly and gestured for Indra to sit beside Him on the seat made of emeralds under a canopy woven from gold and pearls. “Do join us as we continue,” He raised His hand towards Him. Inviting Him to join in the performance and play a special song on His flute – a song that will complete the beautiful visual of this divine spectacle!

An opportunity to please the God of Gods with his flute. Indra bowed at the invitation and took up the flute. The bugles restarted as He blew into the instrument and built in the rhythm and momentum for the King of Dancers to join back. The curve on Goddess Parvati’s lips widened to the swing Indra did between the octaves and the response that Shiva gave with his circular flourishes. The Lord of the universe was throwing subtle challenges to Indra to up His music and the latter complied, the notes of His flute doubling their roll along the ascending and descending notes, occasionally pausing at a crescendo. Shiva seemed to like Indra’s build up and responded doubling the beats to only push the momentum to the limits till when Indra sensed his breath running out. Had the whole Pantheon been here, Goddess Lakshmi singing with her husband on the mridanga, the pressure on Indra would have been much lesser but now, he was left to the mercy of the One who never tired! What kind of a test is this Mahadeva? With a side glance, he pleaded Bhringi, playing on the bugle to cover the gap while the God of Gods danced on. Bhringi obliged by doubling the length of the teermana to give Indra a breather. The king of Gods picked up the flute again, only this time, he had to keep pace with Shiva’s vigorous movements, like the God wasted hardly a moment before nudging Him towards the limit of His limits. Indra struggled to keep up despite Bhringi’s ready support and waited for Parvati to glance at him, praying for a break. As if like a response to His prayer, Parvati raised Her hand to request an end to the glorious spectacle. Indra rose and prostrated to the Universal Mother and Father.

“That was quite a feat, King of Gods!” Shiva said with admiration, as He rested on His throne. “You could have given it more time though.”

“Like I can stand before You, My Lord.” Indra grinned, still kneeling.

Parvati interjected then, “Yes, indeed, stop teasing him.” She beamed, throwing an understanding glance at Indra. “The king of gods is here for a reason, I guess, Mahadeva. Do grant him audience and favor his request.” With that she nodded her head towards Indra to remind him of his reason for this visit.

Indra’s smile faded as the gravity of the situation struck back. He then bowed his head and cleared his throat to begin. “Lord Pashupati, I come to you today bearing a heavy heart,” he pleaded in an entreating voice. “My son Arjuna transgressed the precepts of Astra Vidya that he once possessed as a gift from Guru Drona. His loss of momentary control has brought me great grief and confusion. Worst, he doesn’t even know what he has committed and if he does… I cannot imagine the hurt that Arjuna must have been in to do so,” Indra continued, desperation clear in his eyes as he looked upon Lord Shiva’s compassionate face. “I ask for justice for both my son and for Dharma itself. You know him and the world around him too well to not let him down, My Lord.”

The Great God’s smile was only more pronounced when he nodded. “I understand Your dilemma and anxiety too well, Indra. Excellence is often something chiseled by a series of intrigues and ordeals. Human trajectories have their own ups and downs against the Divine game of destiny.”

Indra bowed, considering every syllable that came out of Shiva’s lips and clasped the feet of the Lord. “Arjuna is on his way to call for me, asking for more Divyastras. And the Gods have put forth this new challenge to him, Mahadeva. Only You, the Guru of gurus can show a way out, to him, to me, and to Dharma.”

“Guru Brihaspati indeed showed you the right way, Indra.” The Omniscient Mother joined the conversation. “Initiate your son into Tapasya. The Lord shall take care of the rest.”

Indra looked up, anticipation and hope rising in his eyes, his hands still placed at Shiva’s feet. Shiva gazed back at him and nodded his assurance, taking Indra’s hands in his own. “Go, Indra. Give Arjuna your direction. A father’s instruction which your son needs the most at the moment. His characteristic perseverance shall achieve the rest.”

End of chapter

There. Hope you liked reading it. Needless to say that the AI generated content will need a round of heavy editing before I declare it a draft. But I cannot say it enough that I enjoyed not getting stuck. I enjoyed the speed. Do let me know your thoughts below.

I never share a WIP in public. But this is something I wrote a while ago and the muse deserted me. (Well, I am battling against time to do another deliverable before I can delve into this). The Hindu resurgence in Telugu regions, especially in the interim period between the fall of Kakatiya and Vijayanagara periods is a topic that is close to my heart. The trio of Kapayya Nayaka, Araveeti Somadeva and Vemareddi fought off the invaders, eliminated them along the regions of present day Rayalaseema all the way till the east coast. We remember the glorious empires, but there are guardians of the vaccuum periods in between and they sadly remain unsung in our mainstream history. This novel is an attempt to explore one of the trio – Prolaya Vema Reddi. Personally, this is my first attempt at a male hero! Read along, the prologue ( It is really really raw! And general first draft issues aside, will be happy to receive feedback and welcome back the muse!)

Prologue

“Jai Kakati!”

The chant arose from many more mouths. 

“Jai Kakati!” Prola Reddi gasped, rolling out of the reach of the long sword till he hit the wall. The light from the flame behind him showed the dilated emerald pupils of his turkish opponent. Prola Reddi considered the invader’s looming form. The turk seemed to enjoy the unarmed Indian soldier’s predicament. Bleeding, unarmed and pushed to the wall and planted his foot with a loud thud. Prola Reddi’s fists curled at the provocation. The fort wall of Warangal, the capital of Kakatiyas and the pride of Dakshina Bharata. He could reject a place in Indra’s heaven to fight again for this fort. 

And the turkish monster stamped upon that!  

Prola Reddi raised himself, resisting the urge to clutch at the wound on his right shoulder. “Jai Kakati! My Mother Goddess, She delights to gargle with your Turkish blood, orospu çocuğu” he grunted the only abuse he had learnt from the language of the invader “son of a whore!” 

The turk grunted back and lunged forward, swishing his longsword to cut at the Indian’s right side. Prola Reddi did not flinch at the pain and darted towards the right, towards where the flaming torch was hung. He knew about the pot of hot oil round that recess. The turk did not but it was not easy for the wounded Indian to get there. The invader launched the sword again. This time, Prola Reddi dodged and caught the Turk’s hand. Using all his bulk, the turk banged his spiked helmet into his right shoulder, right at the wound. 

Prola winced but held on to the man, moving further right. Blood drained from his multiple wounds. “Jai Kaka…ti!” 

“Ka…ka..ti..” The turk laughed mimicking the faltering tone. “Will get you the broken breast of the naked whore you call a Goddess, lowlife!” He kicked at Prola Reddi’s leg. Still, the Indian dragged him a few more paces along. The turk smashed his helmet into his collarbone. Prola Reddi felt the world blur but held on. At the neck kick, his grip over the turk as well as his balance falter.

The invader let go of the sword and held the Indian’s shoulder, throwing him on the ground and kicking at the almost limp body. “Prola Reddi. The guardian of the Western gate!” He kicked again. But the Indian seemed to have lost his consciousness. “You will see the city burn! Women dragged out and taken in cages…” The turk bellowed. “Naked!” The provocations failed to evoke a reaction. The turk smirked to himself. “kafir hadım! India has no men. Only Eunuchs, the ones who will serve us and guard our harems! What you will end up today, hadim, Eunuch” He bent to take up the sword. There was an undeniable pleasure in cutting up the penis of the fallen opponent, making him kneel and see his women raped. His crooked teeth showed up in the light of the flame. And it fell upon his face!

Burning hot oil! 

“Lanja kodaka!” Prola Reddi gnashed wresting the weapon from the bawling invader. “It is Telugu for your name! I mean son of a whore! Prola Reddi savoured the sight of the screaming invader and slashed at the Turk’s arm, The limb fell to the ground. “That’s how you deal with the enemy, Eunuch! Not give him scratches like you gave me. The turk’s scream rent the air, reaching a crescendo before he fell limp. Prola Reddi cast the cut up arm over the edge of where he stood. More limbs of the dead turk followed their journey down the fort wall of Warangal  “Venture up the wall and the same fate awaits you, desert rats! JAI KAKATI!” 

“Anna!” 

Prola Reddi turned at the call and the world went dark. 

***

“Let me-” Prola Reddi’s sentence trailed as a searing pain cut through his leg all the way up his spine and he fell back in his vain attempt to sit up. 

“Anna!” 

The general of the Western wall looked at the three pairs of eyes peering at him. “I can fight.” 

“No, Prolayya! You have to rest for the rest of the night.” Kapayya Nayaka, the general of the front line regiment held his shoulder. “You did us proud, my friend.” 

“Anna, listen to Kapayya Nayaka. I knew you would not heed my words and hence had to fetch him from the front.” 

“Chenna!” Prola Reddi gasped, holding on to his cousin. “Resist for… resist for three more days and those sons of whores from Delhi will not be left with anything to attack again.” He turned to Kapayya Nayaka, finally finding the strength to sit up. 

“By the dagger of Potayya, look at yourself!” Kapayya snapped, pointing at the blood drenched bandages over the western general’s body. Letting out a sigh, he softened. “Just this night, Prola. We need you alive. Samrat Prataparudra needs every one of his fine commanders alive.” 

“Come back to the wall by late morning, Prolanna.” Chenna Reddi implored. “I shall take your place tonight. The least I can do for the life you saved so many times!” The younger soldier knelt on the ground. “Think of sister in law, think of the young Vemu and Mallu. They are guarding the villages, banking on your life.” 

A curve appeared on Prola Reddi’s lips at the mention of two young boys. 

“Stay put tonight, Prola.” Kapayya beamed and patted the wounded general’s shoulder. “Chenna, join the others and I shall come soon.” 

He stayed quiet for a while after the younger soldier left. “Are you sure he can take your place, Prola.” 

“Nobody can take my place, Kapayya!” Prola Reddi laughed. “Neither he, nor you!”

“Fool! I meant for the rest of the night. I can take my place by the western wall and…” 

“No Kapayya!” Prola Reddi shook his head and winded as the bandage gave away. “The Northern gates need the best of our men in case…” the sentence trailed but not out of pain. “By Kakati, I can’t even think… No, let Chenna cover for me on the western wall. You don’t lave the side of Samrat.” 

Kapayya nodded and walked away, still uncertain about what initially made him suggest the swap. But Chenna knew the western wall much better than he did. 

Prola Reddi’s eyes shut for a while before a fitful sleep overtook him. Nightmares about possible breaches kept him waking up every now and then before he actually fell asleep. Soon after which a hand shook him awake!

“What?” Prola Reddi realised that it was still dark. But distant sounds of roosters signalled dawn. 

“Quiet!” It was Kapayya again. The general of the Kakatiya Frontline seemed disturbed when he hurriedly helped Prola Reddi into a wooden stretcher. “Stay down.” 

“What happened? Kapayya?” 

“QUIET!”

Prola Reddi’s head reeled and the world went dark again. When his eyes opened, the sun was an hour shy of reaching the zenith. But the general saw the ceiling of a broken cave instead of the roof of his chamber in the fort. “Kapayya..?” He turned and saw the other general sitting motionless. He sensed the presence of other soldiers behind him. “What…?”

“We lost.” Kapayya replied without turning. Drawing a deep breath, he steeled himself to not torture the wounded general with uncertainty. “There was a breach before dawn. The Samrat decided to surrender.” 

“By the dagger of Potayya!” A painful silence followed Prola Reddi’s helpless gasp. The wounds seemed to have only worsened overnight. Or the news shattered his will to recover. 

“Rudradeva swami as well as Samrat, advised the generals to escape… and continue the resistance. The people of our land need us more than the fort now.” 

For the first time in his life, Prola Reddi found his limbs freeze and not due to the heavy loss of blood. “Who else came away? We could probably still have… Samrat…Where was the breach?” 

“Rest Prola!” 

“Where was the damn breach!?” 

“At the western gates.” Kapayya brought himself to tell the truth that he knew would devastate his friend further. “We had a traitor.” He swallowed hard. “Chenna Reddi.”

“So, what is stopping you?”

Presenting this work of vast research by my friend Nithin Sridhar on the topic of menstruation. The author’s series of articles on the topic on Indiafacts had piqued my interest and I was really looking forward for this book.

The Book Summary is as follows
Menstruation across Cultures attempts to provide a detailed review of menstruation notions prevalent in India and in cultures from across the world. The world cultures covered in the book include Indic traditions like Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism; ancient civilisations like Greece, Rome, Mesopotamia and Egypt; and Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

Two themes of special focus in the book are: Impurity and Sacrality. While they are often understood as being opposed to each other, the book examines how they are treated as two sides of the same coin, when it comes to menstruation. This is especially true in Indic traditions and pre-Christian polytheistic traditions like Greco-Roman, Mesopotamian and Egyptian. Impurity and Sacrality complement each other to form a comprehensive worldview in these cultures.

The book also examines how the understanding of impurity in Abrahamic religions differs from those of polytheistic cultures. As part of the examination of the sacrality attached to menstruation, a special focus has also been given to the deities of menstruation in polytheistic cultures and to what Ayurveda and Yoga say about this essential function in a woman’s physiology.

Finally, a comparative study of menstrual notions prevalent in modernity is presented, along with a Do and Don’t dossier.

Also find an excerpt below :

Now, what exactly is Ashaucha? It has been roughly translated to mean uncleanliness / impurity. But the full implication of the term goes beyond the normal notions associated with these terms. To understand this, we must first comprehend the Hindu concept of an Individual and the concepts of Shaucha (purity) and Ashaucha (impurity) associated with such an individual.

Much of the modern scientific view, which is largely rooted in materialism, perceives an Individual as just a physical body. Even the mind and its functions are perceived as being rooted in the physical organ brain. Contrary to this, Hinduism perceives an Individual as a being with five layers of individuality. In other words, each person has five bodies that act as five sheaths that covers his/her innermost Self (Atman). These five sheaths, which are together called as ‘Pancha-Koshas’[7], are: Annamaya Kosha (physical sheath), Pranamaya Kosha (vital sheath), Manomaya Kosha (mental sheath), Vigyanamaya Kosha (sheath of intellect), and Anandamaya Kosha (sheath of bliss). Hence, each Individual is constituted of five bodies- physical, vital, mind, intellect, and bliss. But in day to day life, at the Vyavaharika (transactional) level, a person is mostly active at his physical, vital and mental sheaths. Hence, it is with respect to these three layers of individuality that one must understand the process of menstruation.

One of the names for Menstruation in Sanskrit is ‘Rajasraava’, which loosely means ‘flow of Raja’. Though the term ‘Raja’ here is often translated as ‘blood’, it may as well refer
to ‘Rajas Guna’. Rajas is one among the three Gunas. It denotes flow, movement, passion, energy, etc. and imparts a dynamic nature to the Individual, but at the same time it also increases a person’s bondage to the worldly cycle.

In the physical body, ‘Rajasraava’ represents the flow of menstrual blood, which contains blood, cervical mucus, vaginal secretions, and endometrial tissue that are being thrown out of the physical body. In the vital body, Rajasraava represents the flow of excess Rajasic energy, i.e. Prana Shakti (especially the Apana vayu). Blood is the carrier of Prana-shakti within the physical body. Thus, through the excretion of the blood, excess Prana Shakti, which is Rajasic in nature, is being thrown out of the body during menstruation. In the mental sheath, Rajas represents thoughts and emotions such as anger, frustration, uneasiness, irritation, mood-swings, etc. to which menstruating women are more exposed to. Therefore, menstruation is a complicated physio-psychological process that exposes a woman to the excess Rajasic condition of the physical, vital, and mental levels.

Must say this promises to be an enlightening read on the much tabooed topic. Buy your copy here.

After meeting Devika through one of my favourite writer groups, I was awed by her writing discipline.  An entrepreneur by day and a writerpreneur by night, she is a living inspiration to anyone who wants to make a career out of their passion. Hence I could not wait to pick up  her booklet on Self publishing. Being the one who made self publishing work for her, she succeeded in garnering a global audience and her advice was bound to be invaluable.

And I was not disappointed at all!

In a simple but honest way, the author summarizes the dilemma felt by every writer after penning the manuscript down. The fact that unsolicited manuscripts find it hard to get takers even if they are of the award winning material is well put through. I could very well connect to the dilemma that I had faced about 3 years back when my first literary baby Abhaya had to be published.

Successful Self published writers are no nonsense entrepreneurs who have their production and publishing schedules planned and prefer flexibility. They are their own hustlers and want a way to do it while balancing work and life. They are those who demand a fair share in royalties. Devika beautifully elucidates the fair royalty model that Indie writers can make use of along with the transparency that platforms like Kindle Direct Publishing offers.

There are other reasons too, well explained in the short booklet. If you are an aspiring writer who wants your story to be published, I urge you to read this book as soon as possible.

Also, a huge shout out to The Book Club for putting this together. Being the first book of a promising series, I am also looking forward to read and review the others. Watch this space for the next ones.

About the Author

Almost as soon as Devika Fernando could write, she imagined stories and poems. After finishing her education in Germany and returning to her roots in Sri Lanka, she got a chance to turn her passion into her profession. Having lived in Germany and in Sri Lanka with her husband has made her experience the best (and the worst) of two totally different worlds – something that influences her writing. Her trademark are sweet, yet deeply emotional romance stories where the characters actually fall in love instead of merely falling in lust. She draws inspiration from everyone and everything in life. Besides being a romance novel author, she works as a self-employed German web content writer, as a translator, and as a faithful servant to all the cats, dogs, fish and birds in her home. What she loves most about being an author is the chance to create new worlds and send her protagonists on a journey full of ups and downs that will leave them changed. When she’s not writing, she’s reading or thinking about writing.

Website: http://www.devikafernando.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/devikafernan…
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Author_Devika

Come November, there is a lot of excitement. It is #NaNoWriMo! It is the birth month of Kindle Direct Publishing. Coincidentally, it is the month where I plunged into the life of an author. Right! My first literary baby Abhaya shall celebrate her third birthday. To top it all, we were blessed with a gorgeous baby girl! Three years into author’s life and one year into motherhood feels like a lot of distance travelled. The joys and intrigues of motherhood aside, my #authorlife had no less excitement. Soon after the euphoria of publishing a new book, lay the challenge of marketing it. The task of continuously having to talk about it without sounding like a sleazy salesman was enough to give me a month long writers block!

It is during these phases that some tools and technologies made my life a tad easier.

Book Mock ups

Attaching the same old book cover every single time I made a social media post seemed boring to me and that in turn affected my frequency of posting it. I realised the importance of mockups, that is presenting your book against different backgrounds and formats, that ‘added a zing’ to the post!

You can see for yourself, the header picture of my site, a wonderful mockup of my third novel Mauri. There are many more that can be used in different posts and contexts! The job of marketing began to get a tad more interesting! Because I discovered Adazing.com

Adazing

Do visit the site for yourself and check out the whole basket of their offerings! 

It was with some hesitation that I spent that amount to buy a set of mockups for Mauri.

Something like this!

And like this

And the image I used to create a banner like this

The ready pictures were mailed to me by team Adazing and the work on my part was to just pay and post!

Check out the book images product here

28 images for $12.75 does not sound like a bad idea at all. Instead of spending clueless hours that roll into days and weeks of being unproductive, spending a couple of dollars and being done with the nagging social posts sounds really wise!

Encouraged by the utility of the product, I was compelled to check out their other products too! Bought their course material on Author blog machine. 

I can’t recommend Adazing enough.   Go on, try one of their free offerings and take it from there.

Happy Marketing

Writing may be a solitary pilgrimage. But the life of a writer most certainly need not be. Being a part of writer communities, offline and online can have a tremendous effect on one’s motivation levels.

Here is how being a part of the writer fraternity can power your writing.

Research and Learning

I write historical fiction. Very ancient historical fiction or Puranic fiction to be precise. My passion of reading source literature aside, there arise a hundred questions in my mind when I sit to reimagine an ancient event; questions like whether a particular technology existed during those times, whether this event could be placed in a specific time period, whether the characters had such and such leanings, whether the philosophy signalled makes sense and so on. Resolving these questions while saving myself from the proverbial research holes (where I start searching for a particular story of Adi Shankaracharya and four hours later, find myself reading about the French revolution with no memory of how my thought train travelled in such a bizzare direction!), requires the company of learned and well read people whose knowledge specialises in the said areas. I have a group of go-to people when I find myself unable to cross every third sentence and they are my saviours.

Emotional Support

Writing is an emotional journey. The intensity of this roller coaster only increases if one is writing a full length novel that encompasses the growth, trials, tribulations, victories, intrigues and odysseys of protagonists. Add to it, the emotional toll resulting from business questions like launch plan, cover design, pricing, reviews, etc! There are many moments where we ask ourselves – Why do we do this to ourselves? But we know that we can’t be without that journey! Who can understand this pain better than another writer? The emotional support that we gain from consoling, cheering, listening, ranting and sharing just can’t be replaced! You have to be a part of such a support group to actually experience the advantages.

Cumulative Social presence

If you have journeyed for a while as an author/writer, you would know the importance of an author platform, the reach you have when you stick out your neck and shout out about your book/blog/content. Imagine if 10 author friends shared the information about it to their respecting platforms! As a writer who gained loyal readers because of this cumulative promotion, I can’t recommend this enough. Just that it works only when you give as much as you take.

Fraternity

As I said, writing is a solitary journey, but making a career in writing is most definitely not. Introversion is a luxury we can’t afford if we dream of paying our bills from our writing income. We need shout outs, we need reviews and recommendations, we need introductions to agents, publishers and publicists, we need connections to other freelancers. In other words, we can never say who in this huge world we might need when. Being a part of author fraternities can make friends out of complete strangers, it can enhance your identity, your profile and add that zing to your very introduction. Fraternities survive by pulling each other through the next hurdle, helping each other break the ceilings, because there is nothing called as competition in the writing world. There is only Co-opetition! (As Joanna Penn says!)

Have you been a part of such author communities? Do share your experiences in the comments!

Also, please don’t forget to check out other posts in the C series by the awesome writers I listed at the beginning! 

C is For Cover Design by Sudesna Ghosh

Co-Authoring by Devika Fernando

Is your Writing Cliched? by Reet Singh

Conflicts, Character Sketch and Climax by Preethi Venugopala

How to improve your CRAFT by Adite Banerjie