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American poet and novelist Sylvia Plath, acclaimed for her deeply personal poetry and novel continues to inspire a new generation of writers.
Each month, we ask our readers to get inspired by an iconic woman writer and get their own thinking caps on. We hope that this inspires you to read more of these writers, and also get your own writing hat on. The 5 best entries on the writing cue get published here.
Step 1. Read the writing cue (mentioned down below) and get inspired.
Step 2. Write your own story/narrative/piece based on the cue. You could use it as the opening line, the closing sentence, or somewhere in between! You could even choose not to use it anywhere in your story – just write a story using the cue as a prompt. (And ‘story’ can be fictional – or not – as you wish).
Step 3. Send your work to us. Please email it to [email protected] with ‘Muse of the month – August’ in the subject line, and your story as a word/txt attachment. Do include the name we should use if we publish it, and a brief introduction to yourself (2-3 lines) in the mail.
Please note: Given the number of entries received, we won’t be able to respond to each, but every single entry is being read through very carefully and is much appreciated.
Here are the shortlisted entries, added on each day as we publish them.
I am, I am, I am, by Srinidhi Raghavan: Who am I? I am many things, and all things possible, says this lovely poem on the self.
The Black Sea, by Vijayalakshmi Harish: When the black sea of depression threatens to overwhelm you, can you remember who you truly are?
Finding Myself, by Pooja Sharma Rao: Don’t forget who you are, even if everyone else fails to recognize you, says this beautiful story.
The One, by Aparna Joshi: What happens when the past, present, and future dance together? This intricately woven story will make you wonder.
The Exorcism, by Ujwala Shenoy Karmarkar: Within us lies immense strength to vanquish the demons of our past, says this wonderful story of triumph.
Please send in your stories by August 26th 2014, Tuesday, 3 p.m IST. The 5 best stories will be published on Women’s Web the next day on, i.e. one each from August 27th to 31st.
Keep it between 250 and 800 words. (Please keep this in mind; in past editions, we have had to disqualify some good entries purely due to word count issues).
Please avoid typing the story as inline text. Send it as an attachment only.
The 5 best entries will each win a Flipkart voucher worth Rs. 250.
A gifted poet who drew on her writing skills and craft as well as a tumultuous inner life for material, Sylvia Plath’s poetry manages to be hard-hitting and layered at the same time. The reader is left with an instant and strong impact of the poem’s mood and sense, and yet continues reading it again to construe many more meanings.
Plath’s single novel, The Bell Jar won much critical acclaim for its witty, sharp portrayal of a young woman facing depression, and struggling to find her place in the world.
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.“ – the writing cue for August, from Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. Make sure to get your entry in on or before August 26th 2014, Tuesday, 3 p.m IST
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I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
She was sure she was dying of cancer the first time her periods came. Why did her mother not explain anything? Why did no one say anything?
Sneha still remembers the time when she had her first period.
She was returning home from school in a cycle-rickshaw in which four girls used to commute to school. When she found something sticky on the place where she was sitting, she wanted to hide it, but she would be the first girl to get down and others were bound to notice it. She was a nervous wreck.
As expected, everyone had a hearty laugh seeing her condition. She wondered what the rickshaw-wallah thought of her. Running towards her home, she told her mother about it. And then, she saw. There was blood all over. Was she suffering from some sickness? Cancer? Her maternal uncle had died of blood cancer!
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