𝓛𝓞𝓡𝓔

Writing a fantasy book was something I had never expected to go like this. But turns out, you don't understand the peril of your favourite writers until you put yourself in their socks, or shoes, whatever.  

First of all, Welcome! I am Shipra Agrawal, Eso to shorten it, an ambitious teenager who had taken up the very impossible task of writing a fantasy book at the age of 15, maybe a few weeks ago, powered by sheer will that crumbles down every time something bad happens to me, and a tub of coffee for each passing hour that goes by. 

The last line is a bit exaggerated, but- Meh. 

So, what am I here for today?

Good question! Heavens know if I know the answer to it myself. 

There is just something about this app that attracts my sleep-deprived, overfilled brain, just how I like running into red flags like its cosy firelight, and I am the CEO of self-destruction.  

So, back to the topic at hand today. Writing a goddamn fantasy book. 

The first book I had ever wrote, well not actually a book, it was just a pathetic, hormone-induced way of letting out steam that builds up in every single pre-matured teen's body because their parents are so strict and kissing someone feels like a slow punishment for all the sins your four feet five inch asshat persona has ever done. In short, it was bad. And now, I wouldn't dare call that piece of words string on a virtual paper (I am pretty sure even the paper was close to vomiting over whatever it had been forcefully forced to bear), a book. 

It was a fanfiction. To be more specific, a Jimin fanfiction. 

Yes, I used to be that kind of BTS fan too, who went around calling the members husbands like they were my personal property, spamming purple hearts until the person on the other side was unsure about my sanity and sure about the lack of it. 

It was, for the lack of a better word, an embarrassing phase of my life. I don't like it. 

Am I over it? Thankfully, yes. Now, being a fan means occasional twitching eyes seeing the members display themselves like the Greek gods they are, no complaints there, I am still a teenager lol, and embarrassing karaoke nights at 3 am in my room, a blasphemy, I know, since it is, of course, very hard to even try imitating Yoongi, but I am depressed you know? Snooze works like a balm to my invisible and maybe non-existent wounds that I create myself with the hoard of expectations I present to myself with every passing opportunity I get.

Again, I went off-topic, but yeah, I am very angry with myself that I waited 3 years for them to come back, only to miss the first live they had together. 

The first book I ever wrote did not make sense. The first book I wrote that made at least some sense was probably the fifteenth try I had given at writing. I got 2k views on it, and deleted it this past week in an emotional/mental breakdown. It was the best feeling ever. 

The book I am writing currently is a spin-off of an HP fanfic I am still working on alongside. But, I do think I have changed enough in that world that it is surely an original concept by now. Bonkers, I know. But I am pretty sure J.K. Rowling did not have an exoplanet in her world with beings that came into existence on Earth itself and were sealed entry through a portal of unknown origins. 

How did I even come up with such a monster concept? Should be your first question. If it isn't, come, my darling, I would kill for a hug with you. 

The answer to that, my dearest friends, is, *dramatic flourish*, Worldbuilding.

'Worldbuilding: Because writing a love story is more impactful when gravity exists.' - Science first, smooches second.

'World-building: where you invent languages, cultures, and ecosystems, then forget about them entirely by chapter five.' — Consistency is for amateurs, of course.

'Worldbuilding is inventing religions, gods, and rituals your characters will ignore in favour of personal angst.' — Divine drama, discontinued.

'Worldbuilding isn’t about realism—it’s about establishing why dragons are allergic to gluten.' — Canonically celiac drakes.

In a small sentence, Worldbuilding can be explained through a really good explanation of a scenario. 

“Your magic system has 47 rules, 3 metaphysical dimensions, and exactly one plot-relevant spell.” — Efficiency through chaos.

Mind you, I came across this monster not so accidentally. It was just a hunch at first, a mere question of 'How the fuck can people write such long and pristine books with devourable worlds and I can't get past the second chapter of my book?'

The answer came from a random internet stranger, because my Instagram algorithm works like it has agents set in my goddamn mind reading every single thought while I am going through one of the worst existential crisis the globe has seen. 

"Structure."  

That single word, my dear friends, was the source of my reckoning and the bouts of unfathomable, low-key barbaric, brain-aches I would be getting in the upcoming month. 

They range from crisis' where I am forced to think about why not creating a horcrux might be an unsaid rule in the magical world aside from the damning fact that the person in question is literally committing cold-blooded murder and splitting their god-forsaken soul, to having too much caffeine induced nightmares where I am stuck in a time loop and a not-so-much lucid ghost wishes to alternate between fvcking me and beating me like their placement in the after-life depends upon it. 

Structure is everything that goes beyond my self-diagnosed ADHD brain, and yet, everything it needs. 

So I went and asked an AI about a structure template because suddenly all those internet strangers wanted money in return for their services, money I lack, and because, bruh, it's not even that serious. Spoiler alert: It might be just that serious.  

Creating a structure for your story, beware, dearest, I am very passionate about this topic; it might just be the thing that finally drives you insane. Especially if you have ADHD and a penchant for keeping certain things hidden in the darkest depths of your mind and then never thinking about them again, and struggling with it. (I would know, judging by the size of memory gaps I have in my very short memory till date.) 

It forces you to think. 

For example, before making this structure document that I very demurely titled 'LORE', I did not even know what my plot was going to be going further into the story, aside from the very interesting two chapters I had already written. 

It was just a hunch by which I had thought I could go all in and write a big-ass story while not even being sure about what the heck am I going to write after this line. 

The results? I got stuck the second I was told to write a single dialogue from my character because holy sh!t, I did not even know about the main character of my novel aside from that he has this cool power, a cliché soul-bond, black messy hair and green eyes. And, maybe a penchant for dramatics, which, given his past, is completely justified.  

So when I pasted this very short-looking structure template in my very demure 'LORE' document, I did not expect much. That was my big mistake. 

It started with the very term I hate with my core now, because it is the bane of my existence and yet the only reason I exist, knowing I could actually create such a thing even though it's completely fictional, Worldbuilding. 

I hate it because now I have to think about how I wanted this story to work. After all, the bitter truth is, your setting influences your characters. Characters, their lives, and worldbuilding go hand in hand. 

It was a complicated work, and a source for constant nightmares because once I am into it, god forbid I get out of it to just sleep for a second. So yes, sometimes the things my brain cooks up are almost nightmarish, and the rest of the time, stupid. 

For example, one time a nightmare, I call it a nightmare not because it was scary, but because it was the most stupid thing in the world. My father and I are going on an international trip. To do that, we take a bus. In the bus, in the seat in front of me, is a dinosaur. A goddamn dinosaur. 

Then the bus starts wracking and filling with a goo and everything is dark. Why? Because another dinosaur, a big green thing, swallowed us alive. See? Stupid. Because that was it. I watched that small 10-minute montage on loop until I grew tired of it and woke up. 

And for source information, I am barely 30% done with my 'LORE' document, and it's been over three weeks. It's bonkers. 

So yeah, that’s my glamorous life as a fantasy writer: crying over nonexistent plotlines, dodging emotional damage disguised as character development, and consuming enough caffeine to qualify as a legally volatile potion. 

If you're still reading this, congratulations. You’ve either got nothing better to do or you secretly thrive on this kind of secondhand chaos. Either way, welcome to the circus—I’m making magic one mental breakdown at a time.

Honestly speaking, writing a fantasy book wasn’t on my life bingo card, but here we are—fingers stained with metaphorical ink, heart stitched together with plot holes, and a world that somehow exists because I refused to give up. 

This isn't a journey. It’s a fever dream with a word count. 

And I’m not done yet.

See you again, one day when I am once again unsure about if I really want to go on with things or just lie down on the middle of the road like the rogue cattle like doing it in front of my house (I live in India) and see if I am lucky enough to pass on to the after-life and start a new chapter, where I am sure I will be nit-picking the brain of the devil who refuses to give me facts about the workings of hell and if he's got a secret human-looking form that has sexy toes and slippery abbs. 

Toodles! 

~ 🔹 𝖊𝖘𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖈 🔹