Now in Print

This has got to be one of the coolest stories I’ve ever done.

For Time, I wrote, “Tweeting the Epics: The World’s Longest Poem, 140 Characters At a Time” which you can read here.

Back to the Basics

I’ve stopped using IM. I’ve started picking up the phone and calling friends instead.

I’ve stopped e-mailing people for updates. I’ve started asking them to come out for a drink instead.

I used to be a people person; some would say I still am, despite my obvious hermit tendencies. In school, I’d encourage friends to come over all the time.

“Don’t call,” I’d say. “Let it be a pleasant surprise.”

My best friend K would marvel at this. “Most people actually appreciate a phone call,” she’d say. “You’re weird.” But I never could understand the reasoning. Why did K need to call? I always had time for her, heck, I’d make time for her. I knew she would, too. I’d often turn up unannounced at her place.

Then, careers happened. I became a freelance journalist, and when friends started showing up unannounced three hours before my deadline for quick lunch breaks, it became a problem.

“I thought you liked it!” they’d say. Which was true, of course. But editors, schedules, and work were important, too.

Now it’s been years since anyone dropped by unannounced. It’s rude not to call first. It’s also rude not to reply to e-mails within 24 hours. I was off reporting for two days some time back and I wondered if I should put an “out of office” message on my e-mail. Two days!

I miss it. I miss running into a neighbor on the street and having an impromptu two-hour conversation, I miss the laidback and lazy days when no one could reach you, I miss long dinners and lunches and that endless gossip.

That’s why I’m making an effort to take time out for all that again.

Persistence or Stupidity?

“Don’t worry about people stealing an idea. If it’s original, you will have to ram it down their throats.”
—   Howard Aiken

Persistence is necessary in this business, but persistence shouldn’t make you blind. Or stupid.

I’m thrilled right now because after 32 rejections/no responses and just a little less than a year, I finally sold a story idea that I’m very excited about. The cherry on top is that the editor thinks it will be a fabulous piece, assigned it at no fixed word count (“take whatever you need to tell the story”) and because it’s fairly research-intensive, is paying higher than the publication’s average rate.

He also wants it as soon as possible.

Oh, and this is a publication I’ve wanted to work with for ages.

What’s even more surprising to me is that after so many “good story, but not for us,” responses, this editor jumped very quickly to assign it, because I was being a little impatient and he didn’t want to lose it.

An editor who shares my vision. I like that.

Another idea that I’ve been shopping lately– 7 rejections so far– is one that I had almost given up on. I know it is a strong story, I know that it is something that needs to be talked about, and I know it’s going to surprise many people, but so far, the only editor who wanted it, said, “I would love to buy this, but it’s at least a 3,000-word story and our finances aren’t currently permitting us to assign anything more than 1,000.”

But the other day, a friend somehow chanced upon this story as well (it hasn’t been widely reported), and was so very excited about doing it. Until he found out that I’d been working on it for months now. He graciously withdrew from the idea because it’s “Mridu’s story,” but he had been so fiercely in love with it that it gave me renewed hope. (And also? How completely awesome are my friends?)

In both cases, I’ve believed in the story enough to pursue it. The ideas have been very strong and why they didn’t sell immediately, I don’t know. What I do know is that I have repeatedly asked people for feedback and have repeatedly been told that it’s a fluke– these ideas should be flying. Editors should be auctioning for them. So I’ve kept pitching.

That’s persistence. Then, there’s stupidity. Stupidity is refusing to accept that something is being rejected repeatedly because it’s plain and simple crap.

Some of my early proposals were like that. There was no point getting attached to them, but of course I did. I sent them out over and over and over, banging my head against the wall, wondering why people weren’t buying, when the problem was, how could they? I could have sent them out fifty thousand times and they wouldn’t sell. That’s fact.

Experience helps, of course. I saved all my queries and when I looked at some that hadn’t sold three years later, I could almost immediately tell why.

I think it’s important to not become so persistent, at least initially in your career, that you fail to see that maybe the reason that idea keeps coming back rejected is because it’s just bad. It’s important to have many ideas– dozens– so that you’re not too worried if a few don’t sell. It’s important to take another look every ten or so times it’s rejected and see if you can revise. And it’s important to retire oft-rejected ideas for at least a few months so that you can come back to them with a new perspective.

But when you truly believe in something, don’t stop at ten rejections, or twenty, or even thirty. The thirty-second time might just be the charm.

When Clueless Interviewees Attack

It’s fairly common for an interview you thought would go effortlessly to go to hell, but it’s quite rare that the unpleasantness you were expecting turns out to be… well, fun.

I had to interview the CEO of a multi-million dollar company recently and I swear, it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, finished days before my deadline. I would e-mail, get a prompt and helpful response, call and get a pleasant voice on the phone. Got all the information I needed, no one’s time was wasted, and because they were so bloody fantastic to talk to, I’m going back for additional interviews and another article.

They’re worthy documentary subjects, and most importantly, accessible.

Compare this to the one-woman small business (who probably needs a lot more publicity), who couldn’t be fussed to answer questions on the phone (said to me on the phone). When I e-mailed her some basic questions, as per her request, she sent me one-sentence answers.

“Why did you start this project?” I asked.

“thot it was gd idea,” she responded.

I finished the short piece I had to write about her business. But needless to say, I won’t be pitching the 2,000-word profile of her to a woman’s magazine like I’d originally intended. The editor assigned something else instead.

Now in Print

I didn’t realize this when I posted earlier, but apparently, I have two articles in this month’s issue of Elle magazine (Indian edition).

My feature article “Panties and Principles” discusses moral policing, how not much has changed over the last ten years, and why it’s not just the “moral police” that’s doing this policing.

In January this year, Hindu activists attacked women in a Mangalore pub. An outcry followed, the Pink Chaddi campaign gained popularity around the world, and urban men and women vowed to fight against such violence. But who is really doing the moral policing, asks Mridu Khullar.

I also wrote on the latest trend in arranged marriages for Time.

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1916150,00.html

The Day of No Deadlines

A few weeks ago, I had a whole day, one whole day, when there was nothing on my schedule. No deadlines until September.

I kept staring at the calendar in disbelief. No deadlines. How is that even possible? And I thought, I must enjoy this day, because I know I’m supposed to hear back from at least five editors on assignments with short deadlines and I’m not going to see an empty calendar for weeks.

It was a strange feeling, I’ll admit. I haven’t had a free calendar in months. But no deadlines was a good thing in this particular instance. Work was coming, but it hadn’t yet arrived. Rest without worry, I said to myself. The next day or two is yours to enjoy. Do some creative work. This won’t last long.

Sure enough, not twenty-four hours had passed when the e-mails started rolling in. Within hours, three new assignments had landed on my desk.

I took the weekend off before starting on them.