Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 22

Pretty lady, Mr Shaikh said to me.

      Dearest you,

I Am actually cleaning, again. I feel like i live in a 29 room house. Et I also feel like I was made to care for everyone, honestly, that’s me. It’s what I do. Et birds, I have two et vow to not say a word,

they are loud et I am abouts to open the French doors to the  pool et voila, freedom et swims darlings, on moi. And they said I am not thoughtful

Greensleeves to that.

 Let’s talk portraits, see I can bore you for later.
This here, Not my favorite, but it’s the only one I am actually not looking angst, et my hat is actually smaller than any I hath used.

huzzah!
okay good news, I am feeling balanced. I don’t know why, that rarely happens, I kid not.  I am always overly busy going from book to book, I suppose it’s because…

I have finished my next publication, lady pain.
I think that journal did me well, I exhaled a lot . I was reckless emotional, I was simply letting go.

I let go. Golly it’s a darn journal peoples, that’s what you do.

Not easy until you complete such. But anyways, it’s actually early to, I woke up at 6 am. I was like,

someone is getting screamed at, any volunteers?

fur Reals. Okay I’m gonna stop that, I got it from mills. It sounds better from her. As I’m nearing 91, I should be appropriate.

So that’s it. I think I have done 1004 things this am. I hope your day is lovely et not too busy, you perhaps go eat the greater pizza from Plato et you drink diet Coke’s, eat French fries, shop for everything you wanted, et well you are so happy. Happy is a cloud somewhere I see at times, but then I often get carried away to other things.

“nothing can take away these blues, nothing compares to you.”

I am listening to Sinead 0’Conner, dear god isn’t she a little worse off than moi,

“ nothing can stop these tears from falling, tell me baby where did I go wrong?”

(Someone’s stressed et awfully down the drains)!

I don’t have the answer for her, but if this helps I feel this exact way on Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Friday’s et on a Sunday.henceforth,
I am cleaning my writing room, as if I have daily meetings et it’s often filled with editors et such. But the rabbits are bloddy wreck messy. 

Well a good day to you ladies, gents et foxes, wreckers, whatever you may be, do it well dearest.

Back to work, tea et birds that I a good citizen shall free, if only my husband frees me like this, I’d be in an Aston driving 90/mph listening to anything but Sinead o’ Conner.

But I have Become too humble for an Aston. In case you are wondering, et also I adore electric s.

Good talk non?

joie à l’aston martin!

yours,

R S

Ps. Et I actually have a personality, you are welcome world.

As you are

        Dearest readers,I have been thrushed into great reflection lately. I’m currently obsessed with snow et the huntsman that were paid to take her into the forest et bring back her heart to the wicked, wealthy, castle abode, dimmed, dolish freak of a Queen.

Dont pardon that.

I meant it,  like  as in power mirror. I am a little troubled here. So the huntsman took her to the forest et told her to

run.

Wow, Who writes this stuff et expect children to read it? I would be scared thinking of such troubled writer et then stamped  For our children, the kinds to actually read. And we wonder why the world is so bloddy. No it is bloddy.

I was not trying to go there tonight, I actually think whenever i run into the cold hearted in the world, minus the almighty power some of us keep. I think they were never loved as children.

To love is a privilege,
not to be so wealthy et notorious.

That’s a poor bloody creature.

Love, a simple thing as love. I think if I am to go forward  as a children’s writer I shall address you, all of you in a manner that’s needed. A lot of you are plain wicked et heartless as adults because you don’t know love.

Hence, dearest  Wench Queen et thank God the huntsman was  kind.

Amen.  Oh thank the lord.
Lovely story. Frightful writer. But nevertheless a very successful one.
So, my moral was be as you are, et don’t  ask why wench queen gets the standing ovation, but so does the hunter. The killer. The blood throbbing power trip.
Such impolitess in a book, etched in my over crowded mind.

But as you can see, I may not be a great children’s writer because in all, I believe in the ethic sense of kindness, mannerisms, no adventure what so ever, keep your elbows of the table, stay in your lane, if you shall see a witch…

don’t eat the apple. Et I beg of you press your alarm, vit vit!

That is the lady I am, so when my reality feels like a story, I am utterly confused.

Nevertheless  Snow is utterly beautiful in the inside, rather the outside, her heart is that of purity, et the her reaction to Civil unkindness is,

”oh you poor creature.”

My reaction is,

wench bitch Queen, et son a bitch huntsmen.

Like a troll should of locked you away et fed you oats everyday of your moody, bold thirsty existence. Also I would of punished both with a Mary Poppins etiquette coach.

for reals.

But I am a bore, so huntsmen if you are there, stay only in my imagination, because you belong only in stories never real.
Sorry to break up your dreams to 1,000,000 pieces.

Ever never real. Stay in books.

Et the good world, the one filled with love et stories of light, filtering blossoms et miracles, please stay alive,

I beg, with my whole heart,

For the children. All of them. Because eventually they’ll grow up et become witches et huntsmen, et lowlife terrible cold hearted, let’s not ruin it for them.

I thank you as a writer for understanding,

Rianna K Shaikh

ps. Great morale, Don’t waste your money on huntsmen et witches. Or the books

Au revoir (one)

 

             Dearest,Here we are the long awaited, my part of heart,au revoir. One. Oui there is a second one.Hence, “the never school.”  It’s the school that you possibly can never do much. A rule list really. This is my very first Orphan tale. I suppose my skill is making every dark feeling beautiful.

Well I hope I didLouise Amélie Kate Buron,

I hope I did her sadness well. Et so it goes a writers life. A heart so full of feeling that thank goodness ink exist.

Signing off as I work on next production, I hope you are being productive, because productivity is better than happy.

your writer,

RS

Shaikh?

 

   Dearest,

I am catholic. But my last name is Muslim, hence, when anyone reads my novels they get weary confused.
I am married to a Muslim, I was not birth the heritage, that’s why when you read my novels, it’s inappropriate to a lot of your eyes et ears.
I am also human. Which means I got a lot to say.

Well that portrait of me, is a turban from France. Not a hijab, but if you wear one, wear it well.

be proud of who are as a Muslim, because at the end of your day, you were born to be you. Beautiful you.”

If I had to cover my hair et body to step into a mosque, I would do so honorably. But let’s not confuse things et situations,

I can write et speak as I wish.

Just sit back read my books, critique my work et be still, I am not here to answer questions about religion, beliefs, what to do’s et what the f’s. I am just your writer,

just read. Behave well et understand I am a woman with 1001 options.

“Et I am damn proud of it.
Yah interrupting your day for a little honesty. You have no Idea how many emails I get daily about French girl with Muslim name.”

I am Indian, French et English. Very proud of my hidden ethnicity. But it shows now.

merci,

RS

 

 

To become is work

 

       Dearest you,

I woke up exhausted, looking at my schedule, waiting for my husband to get home. So I can simply not be the Sargent of everyone. I think it’s good to be the one that runs the show but it’s a complete book on time management.

Today I have a lot of portraits to do, books etc, I find it very hard to look as I should et feel the same way. When you are this scheduled, with all of your timely commitments, as a person you are an emotional being too.

It’s like Running a marathon emotionally, at times  feeling, très compliqué mais fatiguant.

So to be is to get actually organized with your time as if your life depends on it. I am always asked,

“how do you do so much?”

A lot of you would say my team, but no one runs the show of my life committments to my daily task of mothering, my home, my books, our lives melded, and educating oneself on the act of womanhood.
That part only life can teach you, but you will get burnt in many ways, inevitably.
Being a woman is hard work. But you must be a woman first. I think being  a man is almost as hard because the responsibility is often so different.

non, well sure.

well I gotta get myself liking myself enough to be photographed which by itself is

beaucoup de travail!

Darlings, wish me bonne chance,
RS

A time

          dearest,

from my next book, lady pain. Yet another journal…

 

forever your writer,

RS

Lady pain etc

 

Darling readers,

Well I am very shocked at myself. But given I don’t waste any of my time, life etc I am waiting for the production of au revoir to be here. Hence my September production shall be, are you ready?

 

lady pain,

a very fitting book that fits my life as of now. Seriously all this fou works for moi. I think the world thinks me to be “publicly inviting.” Rather not ever be. But I often shut myelf away , so much so, that if the pope thinks he could find me, well he couldn’t.

So, hard work no play, if I didn’t have things to do at times, I’d be locked away like 2020. Nevertheless this writer has got work to do!

to my followers, thank you for your patience. I hope you stay optimistic et happy, et sane, because it’s often difficult to be you. I know, but if you were me, it’d be a lot harder.

 

Especially when the foxes chase you, like you are in a tin tin movie.

If I knew why, I’d be less angry, et happy, but when you don’t know merde, you don’t know merde.

I want peace. I just want to be able to soundly get back to the world, et not be chased in any manner. Ridiculed. I have pulled my 1 million followers on Instagram for safety issues.

I am a writer not a pirate. Oui?

Good talk,

RS

Ps. Crazy cover, it reflects my mood greatly, et the name, gee talk to me lady pain

My father, the noble one

         
          19 août 2021mon pére, I hope my words travel over the great big seas, the rough waves, the wavering storms et the burst of clouds that cry for life.

for I have seen your tears throughout your life. Though you tried so hard to not show it.

I have loved you, since I was birth, but I am aware that not all of us are called to be sailors, pilots, business people, bakers, doctors, billionaires, et the very sought after millionaires. Not all of us are called to be like our fathers.

The ones that look stellar, on paper.

stellaire sur papier.

I have realized that I am actually like  grand mére, her style, her wiff of sarcasm, even the way she would stand in her tearoom next to the French windows looking out, as if there was something

so full of light et love waiting to find her.In some great ways, nous sommes les mêmes. Et I simply j’adore her to her rest. As I do you father, I j’adore you.I thank you for allowing me a life of such peace, it’s my greatest accomplishment.

Being  your only daughter would of been the hardest thing. I am almost 400 percent sure of such.

Not so much the fancy frills et life of nobility, but more words so eloquent, rather happier at the rabbits country club, et sight seeing amongst foxes.Its the peace I have worked hard to keep. Though father,

the foxes chase me from time to time, I don’t get scared, I feel  baffled et without words,  but then I exhale, I count des moutons till ten, I look to you, et I whisper to

me.”My father is a fox too.”

Be where you are et know that deep within my heart, mon coeur, your legacy will live. Et so will grand mere’s et grand pére’s. How I searched the world et no beauty ever compared to them, rien ne sera jamais comparable à eux.

Kiss the dogs for me, but father, tell them,

“little Katey is grown up now.”

I shall remain your little girl, holding a mini helicopter in her hands, thinking of you as you fly the world like Amelia Earhart.

Never let love go, it’s all you got when you are no more mon Pére.

a pilot of words,

Katey B

Ps.je te pardonne.

Hallo world, chapter one

 

            Dearest you,

Well, look at this, I was up at 6 am. I know I cannot think of when I ever woke up this am. I am retired world, no one gets it. I need sleeep

Anyways, 2 hours of workouts, breakfast with Roo et Ferrie, I even cleaned the house, don’t be alarmed, I have secretly fired my housekeeper so I can actually be alone at home. Don’t tell that to a simple rabbit, no one needs to know anything Oui?

Okay moving on, we are working on next production, I know, I’m half asleep but I’m sitting alone, before I start my cello music of 2 hours. I must it’s either that or I garden. We all know that’s never gone right, why soil a good thing

But I swear if I should see anyone, anyone, cutting down trees in this place, you are all fired. Have you not seen the

Lorax?

my Husband vowed me the best hedges, when they are in season, I will never step on green grass but at least we’ll have proper hedges. What can I say I’m deeply somewhere within me a Martha Stewart, minus the insider trading

Well I hope your day is not as busy, but I hope you love et peace et a little bit of tea. I woke up to no 20 bars of dark chocolat on my desk.
No chef.

But my masseuse will be here later. I’m glad, because this writer is in need of one. Well I bid you au revoir for now.

Here we go Wall Street, here we go.

Chapter one….

Yours,

RS
Ps. My darling Roo’s book on my table, move over Prada, but stay Valentino

I should just forget all this work et have a tea party!

Extra extra

 

Dearest you,

Et like that we are fin!

Like to tell you I’m full of ideas et energy but this book did it to moi. I slept till 2 pm, I fear I need a lot more sleep.

But I am so done. Et I hope to share the print shortly. I would say writing had been quite alright up until this point. To all the emails, I cannot respond yet. I told everyone today I cannot speak to anyone. They all laughed, but I reckon they’ll understand soon enough.
They say it takes a village to care for a family, I fear they were wrong. Maybe so, because I need my Angeli back. The more I write, the more I realize I am not born to be like everyone else.

my schedule is hectic.

So be patient with me. I have only done 8 books in 8 months. By the time Simon gets to me, I am worth more chocolat bars than he can fathom.

Actually, an insider told me that today.Glad I can be of  some help to the literary world.
Well I must go to bed. I shall be out of reach for a little.

Et dear husband, I need a chef, a vacation, a masseuse et 20 bars dark chocolat on my desk by  1 pm tomorrow. Obviously the chocolats will be on my desk not the rest, that would be bloddy awkward.

Forget the Aston I need a driver too.

I kid not.
My assistant Pegs will respond to lit emails.

Merci.

Love et tea,

RS