Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 12

Dearest Emeline

 

     My dearest,I hope then, when I am done you can read this book. And if you grieve know that I do too. In a manner that which I cannot express. But my heart aches more Et more every time I write this book. For your love was the mere magic to my breath.I write this for me,
for the broken hearted,
for the lost Et the most lonely. Yours,Rianna Kate Shaikh Ps.   For Emeline.
Et all that swim in an
unending lake of grief. Hold on.
The light is ahead, je promets. 
   Listen to this. It’s prolific. 

Write me Mrs Shaikh

 

Mydarlings,

I have a grand tendency to post stories at midnight. Then I receive emails from my readers thanking me for giving them something to look forward too. Obviously they are 6-9 hours ahead. If you are reading my story in American time, you are a fan

So about the book in sad letters, Emeline Benoit, gee, a lot of messages. Firstly, I get it I’m a sullen writer. My husband said to me, “you know I visited your instagram and it’s very sad. Maybe make it happy?”

I honestly almost got out the car Et walked home. Luckily I am not a fan to the outside, I am wanted like mr rabbit says, so also it was the bloddy highway.
I am passionate about my work, and even so I am terribly passionate about me fulfilling a character and her many feelings. So many approach me with, “Mrs Shaikh are you depressed?”

theatrically  I say,Darn right I am, in the worst way possible. My heart is beyond broken. But let’s be real, it’s what I do, so please step aside Et let this writer weep in ink.

I am not trying to be Shakespeare. Really. I am incredibly doleful but I must write Emeline.
Truth.
Also secret, I am in the middle of 3 books

I swear I am so hardworking. Et to make matters crazy my pool is being redone and there is major construction on my bath. My dearest husband is building me a French Victorian bath. I am happy though I don’t have 8 hours a day to spend in a tub y’all. But maybe he’s trying to tell me something

You know I must be the most well kept writer at times, but there are days that’s questionable. Especially that I really need to get back to working much more hours.

So look at this, my new papier for my walls. I am so mad… like why couldn’t this be in my writing room?

hence, I am in love with this.
My husband is doing what a man would do to keep a woman happy. Exhibit above. So I figure if you are a man reading this, get on that train.
Because i guarantee you, when your lady is happy, if she is, your dinner will never be late !

Et also She will take it easy on the Amex.
yah, no worries, I am here to help.

Get back to work i must,

Rianna kate Shaikh

ps. I ran 5 miles listening to this. Fou.

 

Answers you seek?

    Dearest,In my spare time which is rare, I write mini quotes in hopes I shall turn them into a book. This I write thinking of Emeline Benoit, which is my most saddest of character, I think deep in me, I’m as sad as her.
Hate to say. But truth is truth non?As a child I was widely imaginative Et obviously I was raised quite differently. I have spent a period of my life seeing the world. But a greater period locked away. No Shame in my level of privacy. As a child that is exactly how i spent my life. Today, I reside with the thought,  that God was only preparing me for the extreme lack of extra curricular activities.You see the way I am reflects silently Et solemnly on who I am. So to all that follow me along my journey becoming this person I am, it’s a lot of greater sacrifices, respect to all Et many devotions in prayer with a lot of selfishness with my time.Mostly important of all, I stick to my life’s protocol, which means, well, I don’t cross lines. I don’t throw stones Et I don’t touch things I am not to.

Rigorous non?

Ultimately my real father taught me that,in which he lived his life to date. We are very similar, except I have more feelings.He’s like a canvas without paint. Unemotional.Truth.
On with this … Sometimes I think if I don’t work, I am wasting my existence.
Hence, it’s why my portfolio is what it is. There are a few very interested in my work book. Not public about it, or private.
Now since I was grown up, I bought the world of things already, so I really refuse to be Interviewed, or feel eager to be sold to a publisher (my books). I am at the point where I just kindly want to protect my art Et add more to my library.
I do have Letters to agents, but I will not engage in any communicative anything till summer.If I am to spend the summer where I am. My dream is flying to France, and running wild in the lavender fields. With my grand chapeau Et a loaf of baguette. Which I couldn’t eat because I have developed a great allergy to flour. Golly.
So my readers, your time should be treated with utter respect. Let no one displace your focus and though our hearts be broken, we walk as if it’s not.
We continue though we may be sought after like we are Snow.
Shame on all of you loathers really.
hence, we forgive most important of all, because I think in my life I want to always be like my grand- mère respected like I am bloddy queen of the rabbits.
Everything else is a mere example of distraction.
But on a different note, I find the more I write is the more I really realize that life is a series of endless falls, many too many a setbacks Et a lot of grief, many people that will sell you for mere dollars Et so many tearful disappointments.
The most or the worst is the example they set…no amounts of money is enough.“Your name should be greater than thou.”And power, power, power mon derrière.Real reality darlings is that we all end up like dearest Emeline B, in love Et broken till the hands of time decide we are worth more than lessons Et pain. Which f it, isn’t happening. Till then we are all like birds flocking till we are aged and we revert back to our childhood, because everything we ever sought to be what should make us great, breaks us.
It humbles us, it hurts us.
The evolution of growth is beyond my petite golden Mont Blanc.
Though I may not have all the answers, I have all the feelings..So read on, live on Et teach them, teach them with your example that we are not as great, as the man in the clouds. Well as a child that’s how I liked to think of it. Fairness he is.
well bonsoir, great talks. Umm till we meet again?j’adore you,Rianna Kate Shaikh

Ps. This song is for the books.

Forever gone

       Dearest love,        Today it rained so hard and so strong I felt like it were your tears. The earth swept you Et the skies kept you.
I struggle daily knowing that the realm of insanity and breath lies very close. Like your thoughts once held me close. I think of things to look at so I don’t look within.
I cannot bear the torrents of myself. I cannot weep for you won’t see my tears. I look out and the greatest of my disdain isn’t that I was greatly sought to be found, it is knowing that my heart will not see your lights.
It shan’t feel your crazy love. I won’t step in the green maze Et know, that you were here. Death has Kept you.My breath misses your air. I don’t know world how long I shall go feeling that the storm is within me and not around. I would say come home, but your house didn’t know the power of you. Neither did the people. They knew not of the light in your soul.

I cannot write you more letters, I felt like Romeo shall compare not to you.

  Lost in the whim of her dusty
immortal eyes,      Emeline Benoit    (A book of letters)

for the broken ones.

YouR sails are broken

 

Dearest,

I write about grief like she’s a friend at tea. It’s a skill really. So this here, is magic when you have lost your way. When you care not to find your light, when you sit at your bow looking down as appose to forward.
All I ask is that you understand that you are in that sailboat. It’s not a regular boat. Nothing about it is regular.

And your heart, why it’s actually broken. And it’s a darn part of life. So sit, look down, look up, look sideways, before you look forward.

It’s important to grieve.

To loose something you so loved, well it kills you slowly, sometimes rapidly. Sometimes you just want to pretend that the world does not exist.
It does. No matter how fallen you are my dearest, the sun will still rise Et fall.

Your wake up call,

Rianna Kate Shaikh

The dance in humanity

      My darlings,

I fear I couldn’t write. I couldn’t budge for a bit, forget about the things I feel, look at the people of #Ukraine.
There are such limited words for my heart to outline, except your chapter brings great tears to my being. And to those of the world.
I know this world is filled of wicked. I know, but this here surpasses Bloddy H.

I hope that humanity fixes their crown and lifts their hearts to the people. For one thing is sure today more than ever,

heaven Et hell is on earth.

But then as a catholic, I look to the face of the heavens on earth, in our

Ave maria.

I pray for this world. And for all the people fighting for their lives.

Especially all the mothers, that lay their lives down for the children they are loosing. And to think that there are a lot of evil mothers existing, it’s a sin all by itself. Non?

This is why I don’t write, or look at Tele, I was birth for the glass house.

I hope you all understand that a little bit of love Et kindness could save the world of people. But I am not God. I am a small part of mère humanity.

I leave you with this….

 

yours,

Rianna Kate Shaikh

1 of the greats

Read it. I am sure to a lot of you, love makes no sense. Because life is a chase. Some chase money, others doltishness, many unfairness. Very few understand that life is measured in breaths.
I often times feel like the direction of my life makes little sense. I know. I think it’s because my ability to feel, is highly magnified.
So if I am writing a book, I am totally in it.
If I am in a moment where those that are to love you, hurts you, I’m in that moment. But the moment I am not in is this…I won’t chase you, or beat down your doors to tell you, I am hurt by your actions. Trust me I do that in books, and when I’m done, it’s exhausting.

My life thus far, I have had some incredible people be kind to me, those my dears are the moments that till the end of your journey,  you’ll think of.
My close friend as a little one,  in this world died.
And though my heart struggles to grasp it, months later, I fear to tell you the face of grief is a face that you never shall recover from.
I am grieved. So much so that I stare at my books and write as a turtle would walk. I should be done with atleast 5 books by now. I Am on 2.

When your heart is in pain, understand it’s quite okay. But don’t get lost in the darkness, for the lights are off.
Pain is a dark way down.
A rabbits hole.You can only go deeper.
If you are grieving, you are not alone.
Some Of you read my pages like it’s a bible, thank you. The Letters are kind. The brutality sometimes is inevitable, but the kind hearts are the light.
I am utterly grateful.Until my next print.yours,kateps. Oui we all considered
our younger selves, the greats.
c'est vraiment triste.

I have nothing, WH

 

 

     My dears,It was an eventful day. Venturing into nothing. Just thinking, reading emails and wondering, how’s it going to look. My middle name on a book?
Actually it was weird. It’s going to take getting use to.
I haven’t told my husband.
Imagine that I think it would be a freedom that I would hope. As it’s very complicated this writing business. I do appropriate Children’s books but my novels are headed in a different direction, obviously I don’t really consider myself a grand novelist. Non.Today I stumbled upon the novel section at a book store, and I saw Hillderbrand had her own shelf.
I held one of her books and realized that this writing book situation is a calling. Meaning? well it’s like being a doctor.If you become one, I’d hope it’s to save lives. So not to much for the eliteness that most mentally conceive.
Same, as a writer, your stories choose you. Some make millions, and sell massive copies, whilst others are like stale baguettes. I am not in the business of evaluating my own portfolio.I think it’s because I am so blessed that I don’t need to sell a copy. Again I’m glad that my privileges allow me a hobby as such.  But there are a lot of writers that starve their way through the course of becoming well known. That only means, you shall be paid. Being paid is important in life, as how on earth shall you survive? I lived my success story in my early 20’s. Though I was ever so unhappy, I was living a dream. So this part is all about my fulfillment. I am writing books to fulfill me.  And call me delirious but I feel so strongly today, more than ever, if my stories want to be read or become a part of the literary world, then it will.
If not, I sit by the walk way like you all.
I said the most humbling thing today. I said to my husband, I cannot write a story to sell. I can only write it to be profoundly felt. Or I shall never write it.
So to you my readers, be patient. I’m in my forties. I know, I always hear, oh. Gee you don’t look it but for what it’s worth, I feel 91 mentally. But I get it with the fleeting of age all the time, but this face of mine, is not used to sell. I figure that writing books takes a different level of Maturity, wisdom Et pain.
And from one humbled human to another,

perfect the art of listening. Listen to your heart. Listen to the wind in the trees. Listen to that discomfort in the waves of your very inner self. And if you are abouts to get the deal you waited for your whole life, and it doesn’t feel right.

walk away.

I told my husband today that if someone I looked up to, a specific name, wanted to take all of my books, I would reject them. Because I feel like i am not ready to part with my books. As I feel like they are not ready to be read.

Trust yourself and work. As hard as you can. Because all of our felllow writers had to bare their cross to have become, like dearest Hem, Aristot, Leo T,

 

Fyodor Dostoevsky, Twain, Dickens Etmy enormously doleful friend, Shakespeare. Golly his tale is as sad as my social life. I kid not. I should be traveling the world in jet smarter, like Sophie B.

This was good talk, non?

I have to literally force myself to write, or read, or focus.
Moving on to private publication #18.

  Yours,

Rianna Kate Shaikh

 

Kate

    Dearest,I was actually in a meeting today. Et I have discussed widely Et truthfully a name change. Well for starters, I   Honestly want to be my own writer. And I want to do it freely. So I am considering Changing all my books in the near future to my middle name,Kate.
I don’t know if any writer has ever done so in the history of writing books, I am not bloddy Shakespeare. But perhaps when I am done, my works could sit beside his. Lately I think that’s a possibility. Because for the next few months, I have many projects to finish. And I vow one thing, I am destined to make myself a library.
With the name, I am most comfortable with,and furthermore, I shall not bring pain to the holy ones.
I am not holy. I’m a damn writer.You dig? Oui I know you do. So don’t think of the troubles of my name, rather think as a little girl I never thought I would be a writer. I swear they can’t take that from me. And they won’t.
So my darling little self, I shall vow you to be proud. So proud, because I shall fight for that name. That’s my name.
Everyone else can flip backwards.
I mean it. Watch Et learn.  I j’adore you,Kate

ps.  my new book quote.

17th private publication

 

      My dearest,

Firstly I thank you for your extreme patience with me. I am so insanely private that I actually am taking a chance amidst all of the cruelty that lurks to find me.
Only because I am a writer. And secondly I am almost 80. Okay fine that was not funny

See it’s complicated being me. Trust me I could of hired 20 marketing companies to make this persona of mine something. Not me. Not my cup of tea. But God has given me a pen Et a true broken heart. So I suppose we make things happen, Oui?
Also I am married. Which means I can’t really be so open to the world. My husband and I raise a very private family. I am honored really.
So with my situation here, I have vowed to myself a little bit of publicity. Be it my diary or my instagram.
Now I am not in the business of  public, public rendezvous so that could really work against me.
I mean let’s be real, I don’t care. But I am sure our team would be. I am becoming. A production.
Yah, no thank you

So on with our hurrah. I present to you my 17th private Publication, Oui I have quite the  bloddy portfolio.

So it’s all work. Like I said there are days when  I could barely step outside. Dedication my darlings.
I wish for you that.

Yours,

Rianna Kate Shaikh

ps. You are reading correctly, it’s an instagram book, it’s bloddy funny, sad, real, it’s my first jaunt to the people. Oh yah, I imagine the Aston would be soon Parked in the driveway. Near the security camera. No privacy. Non. Welcome to being a writer.