The New God of Writing by Terveen Gill

He was brought to the mental asylum in chains.

Not because he was dangerous.

But because he said it inspired him.

Getting into character, into the mood, the understanding would come to him if he became what he wanted.

Not something the dull-minded, the unimaginative could comprehend.

It wasn’t their fault, the ordinary could rarely scratch the surface of conventional.

Leave aside breaking through it.

His name was Ravi Brouhaha. A befitting pseudonym for a man who had created a clamor in the literary world. His books had brought him fame and resentment – a heady brew that was controversial yet irresistible.

The Art of Talking Shit and Making Friends.

Cheat your Partner into Loving You.

Can Marijuana Replace your Mother?

There was a long list of books with titles that were obnoxious yet hard to ignore. Jack Hutch hadn’t just become Ravi Brouhaha overnight. It had been a well deliberated process.

Shocking people with words, playing with their meanings, taking five silly ideas and dressing them in a skimpy array of fineries – revealing enough to get the reader’s attention, withholding details to tease their senses.

Scandalizing!

Unapologetic!

Audacious!

F*cking A**hole!

A few of the terms used to describe Ravi and his writing.

And he loved it. He was the new god of writing – feared and despised yet still loved by so many.

The chains bit into him, chafing the skin that had been moisturized into softness, massaged into submission.

The man laughed as he was stripped and searched before being handed a dull white jumpsuit.

Ravi had already decided the title of his next book.

How Mental Illness can Improve your Sex Life.

People were going to hate him for this. There could even be death threats. But that was the thrill of the writing game.

The man had chosen the best psychiatric hospital in the country and booked himself in for six months.

Another bestseller and he would quit while he was still at the top.

The orange pills had begun to kick in. A lucid mind could work wonders.

One only had to believe and write with conviction.

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