Rianna Shaikh's Blog, page 24
July 28, 2021
Paris, France
My dearest,
Imagine waking up en France, at walking out on the famed terrace of mademoiselle Coco Chanel À Ritz Paris, full with the ambiance of a love that never were your reality.
Imagine strolling on the cobbled path of Montmartre eating freshly baked baguettes, strolling the quaint tailed streets,atheliered In a gown made with tulle et embroidered avec fleur.Imagine me getting on a private jet far away from the noise of my daily routine. Yes I said private jet, dear golly I know I’m down to earth but dammm I’m a writer, still human, non?
go with the flow people, I’m a story teller
Then I drive to Provence, With my French chauffeur who thus confuses moi with his français courant. Et then voila I take my phone et throw it into the fields of lavender et I silently pretend I don’t have 1,000,000 people to answer to. Gee, that sounds like me in a private sale at Yurman, circa 2007,
When I was full of glee to be bedecked in rubies et Pearls on a daily. God I miss the lust for things. Being humble sucer.
Thought I’d share this, as I write only past midnight. Back to my itinerary.
Paris, France.I’m going to France. Very soon.
The husband is setting me free 
je ne peux pas attendre. très bientôt.
Yours,
Rs
July 27, 2021
To be as you are
Dearest you,
It sounds easy buy it’s not. Today I won’t give you philosophical trimmings. I vow, I think my head aches madly, but here I am sitting in my writing room wondering however should I look in my portraits for my next 4 books 
I have waited for my hats for months et finally I opened the box and stood on the floor, confused as heck.
I am not in the mood.I think when it comes to doing books, I have used all of my creativity. So when I have yet 20-39 shots with photography I simply Quit.
Ferrie is absolutely good at putting me together. Milly will absolutely look at me and laugh, “you are definitely in the wrong era beau peep!”
I laugh about it because I am as different as you come. But I have accepted my style, as I don’t want photographs that are very common.
Meaning, I want hats made, frocks made, tulle, pearls.Et hence A million dollars later ….A bloddy portrait.
By the way can you tell I love those emojis, like mad.
So I’m sipping tea, with my head aching et my anxiety of the charts today. I cannot do a thing.
Literally. Forget about making me look beautiful, it ain’t happening people, oh heckkkk no!
I hope your day is nØT as aching as mine, I feel like whenever I go out into the world, it’s a lot of stimulation for moi. I was born to live in the glass house, world. I am 99,9 percent sure no one can relate to this!
So on with this hurrah!
darling Ferrie, the love of my fashion sense, my bestest friend, the most logical human I’d ever met, made this for me et I think it ever so, well it often reminds me of the Jackie O that most women aspire to be. Probably not all, women like looking scandalous but you are you. But, so but, my Ferrie can make me look très chic in no time.
“oh Ferrie I j’adore you, like soooo much, please make your Maman look like coco Chanel athliered moi!”
Fortunately she accepts a cup of my tea et a cookie as bribery. It works. I cannot afford to Bribe Milly, she may want my car 
Well they shall all hate on me when they see that expression of love. They say she’s my favorite, but she’s my first child, so hallo people get with it, like yah!
Well your style is yours, oui mademoiselle, être toi.
Ps. I look like someone stole my rabbit et loubottoms here non? aime mieux.
July 26, 2021
Novel writing etchera
A few photographs from the days of capture. This is my 3rd novel, which should be in editing except it fears the end, a completion. I believe this novel holds the core of pure love et mére heart break.
I am a few chapters away from done but it’s fairly not done with moi.
I think love if felt right it shakes the senses to the brim
of insanity, where the skies et breath are but one, sure when you read it, it sounds different but when you feel to write et write to exist, there isn’t another wayNot ever. I think when I’m done with this book I shall need le pin et therapy, I Kid not because the love of Sophie et Zur hath left me without emotions that has all been felt et cried et left et bled et so my heart isn’t mine, but theirs.
Do You understand?My first novel was a joke. My second was lustfull et my third well if I finish it, if, it’s a mix of great pain fixated in fancy places et drenched misery in the Brookvilles. To France. But then Wall street had never quite felt like a quilted Chanel wrapped in an Hermès scarf tied to a privilege of such.
All whilst Zur driving in his Bentley tightly holding the hands of Sophie, my Becks, bedecked in Valentino et Van cleef.
Gee. I swear to you I never want to ever see van cleef again. Et well whilst Valentino is still charmant, et Bentleys you ask?
I don’t want one either. Like ever.
Never. I’m scarred for life. The woes of being engulfed in your characters. It’s a sweet pain really, the kinds that you feel in a hot air balloon in Cappadocia throwing yourself over in a Valentino gown. Cinched by the poise trim of your waist.
Well pout for Dior!
I think one life as a writer equals to 10 lives of a broken lady. No I kid not, but I find it most enticing et I j’adore the misère of it all. From the cover to the blurb, but my first two novels was practice. Honestly.
When you are up with Yves st Laurent staring at bloody magazines searching for fashion when you really need to focus on a finished product. Impossible when you are me. I think I ate an entire bar of dark chocolat 
Bonsoir,
RS
Ps, please no loubottoms until Christian L designs a writers shoe, oh I will send him a letter. No more broken ankles darlings, for me at least. I am a ladddyyyy, oui?
July 25, 2021
Sit still avec rejection
Dearest all,
Of course it’s midnight, apparently that’s when I function like a normal person. Not. So I disrupt your sleep for a bit of read…
I was years ago rejected by the top, the Top literacy agency in New York.My assistant mailed the letter out, I used fed ex, though they said no fancy papers, no fast delivery, no fancy nancy business. I thought gee, blah blah blah.I am Rianna Shaikh et I am doing everything they tell me not too. It’s just me, at times I retaliate on all the rules. I do. Mini confession.
Hence, I sent out my little letter, to the agent I thought I had a chance with. My gosh, he was kind, my golly, my rejection came in 3 days after. I was thinking, “wtf.”
Incase you are wondering I meant what it sounded like. I was laughing, because I was shocked that he responded so quickly et politely. But then I moved away, and I misplaced his rejection, I swear to you, I would of put it into a book. And years later, he’d feel like Shrek’s donkey.
His name was donkey. Shriek’s donkey. But I must confess, I was on book 4.then.
Sorry but if you are out there holding a manuscript at number 1, with your fingers crossed, please don’t. Et second to that, writers are poor creatures. Truth be told. Truth be heard. Just simply quit sending those letters et beating up your work. I get this a lot from writers. It’s actually worse that Med students that become doctors for notoriety.
Like go get a 9-5 et read some help books et then buy that Maserati. But don’t become a doctor to be rich.First step, respect humanity. Gee. This annoys me so much.
As a writer that wants no publicity, me, I tell you,
at book 26, I swear I have got a disorder. Because no one in there right senses does this shit. Pardon my French. But it’s the truth. If you are writing, write. If you are on the market to be picked up by an agent, do so. But dont self torture. Please don’t.
It’s bad enough no one likes your bloddy book.
It is. But it’s yours, believe in it. Et to the most of you thats looking at J K Rowling, well sorry to tell you, we are never going to be her. Your story should not suddenly have witches et brooms, be yourself.
For once. For twice. Just be you.
I think if you persist like Elon Musk, well he’s been poor, he lived with his friends, everyone told him he was merde. If you have that sort of determination, you can achieve. But be sensible in your approach et perspective in your persistence.
Be realistic also. Success is defined daily. Not by your assets et worths. There are a lot of people in the world without a real personality but with millions at hand.
My greatest teacher would say to me, “the empty vessels.”
Don’t be that. Just don’t. Don’t do it. You are young et free et hopefully not wild, that you sell everything et travel the world. That to me is a little. A tad. A bloddy much.
Hey who am I to judge, I live in the glass house. And I live strictly by routines. I know nothing what it’s like to be so free. But i sleep very late. As of now, if anyone wakes me up early it’s over 
I hope I wasn’t to upfront, I do get a lot of emails et this had to be addressed.
Rejection is the greatest part of existence. Accept it for the lesson it is. Et write letters to the agency from the core of who you are. Not from some stupid checklist, I swear when I meet the ceo of Simon, I’ll give my mind to him.
Mostly I’ll tell him, I’ll say,
“Sir with all due respect, it’s fair to say that your agents, are highly drunken by le pin let’s fire them up. Over et out scottty.”
I would, et I’ll be all dressed up like my daddy own brooks brothers. Well I’m genious, you know it
On behalf of the rabbits, thank you for your questions.
We j’adore toi.
Your unusual writer,
RS
Reject me pleassssssse!
Dearest all,
Of course it’s midnight, apparently that’s when I function like a normal person. Not. So I disrupt your sleep for a bit of read…
I was years ago rejected by the top, the Top literacy agency in New York.My assistant mailed the letter out, I used fed ex, though they said no fancy papers, no fast delivery, no fancy nancy business. I thought gee, blah blah blah.I am Rianna Shaikh et I am doing everything they tell me not too. It’s just me, at times I retaliate on all the rules. I do. Mini confession.
Hence, I sent out my little letter, to the agent I thought I had a chance with. My gosh, he was kind, my golly, my rejection came in 3 days after. I was thinking, “wtf.”
Incase you are wondering I meant what it sounded like. I was laughing, because I was shocked that he responded so quickly et politely. But then I moved away, and I misplaced his rejection, I swear to you, I would of put it into a book. And years later, he’d feel like Shrek’s donkey.
His name was donkey. Shriek’s donkey. But I must confess, I was on book 4.then.
Sorry but if you are out there holding a manuscript at number 1, with your fingers crossed, please don’t. Et second to that, writers are poor creatures. Truth be told. Truth be heard. Just simply quit sending those letters et beating up your work. I get this a lot from writers. It’s actually worse that Med students that become doctors for notoriety.
Like go get a 9-5 et read some help books et then buy that Maserati. But don’t become a doctor to be rich.First step, respect humanity. Gee. This annoys me so much.
As a writer that wants no publicity, me, I tell you,
at book 26, I swear I have got a disorder. Because no one in there right senses does this shit. Pardon my French. But it’s the truth. If you are writing, write. If you are on the market to be picked up by an agent, do so. But dont self torture. Please don’t.
It’s bad enough no one likes your bloddy book.
It is. But it’s yours, believe in it. Et to the most of you thats looking at J K Rowling, well sorry to tell you, we are never going to be her. Your story should not suddenly have witches et brooms, be yourself.
For once. For twice. Just be you.
I think if you persist like Elon Musk, well he’s been poor, he lived with his friends, everyone told him he was merde. If you have that sort of determination, you can achieve. But be sensible in your approach et perspective in your persistence.
Be realistic also. Success is defined daily. Not by your assets et worths. There are a lot of people in the world without a real personality but with millions at hand.
My greatest teacher would say to me, “the empty vessels.”
Don’t be that. Just don’t. Don’t do it. You are young et free et hopefully not wild, that you sell everything et travel the world. That to me is a little. A tad. A bloddy much.
Hey who am I to judge, I live in the glass house. And I live strictly by routines. I know nothing what it’s like to be so free. But i sleep very late. As of now, if anyone wakes me up early it’s over
I hope I wasn’t to upfront, I do get a lot of emails et this had to be addressed.
Rejection is the greatest part of existence. Accept it for the lesson it is. Et write letters to the agency from the core of who you are. Not from some stupid checklist, I swear when I meet the ceo of Simon, I’ll give my mind to him.
Mostly I’ll tell him, I’ll say,
“Sir with all due respect, it’s fair to say that your agents, are highly drunken by le pin let’s fire them up. Over et out scottty.”
I would, et I’ll be all dressed up like my daddy own brooks brothers. Well I’m genious, you know it
On behalf of the rabbits, thank you for your questions.
We j’adore toi.
Your unusual writer,
RS
July 24, 2021
On the rollin greens, near the castle
A house isn’t a home et a home is not a house…
This was one of my most adored, I have always had different relationships with each of my homes, this one makes the book, every time.
I was 23.
Newly married.
My first child.
My first real love of privacy. The first is always the most iconic, especially when you are so very young.
Today it’s someone’s home, a woman’s everything, a man’s mortgage.
A rabbits haven.
A neighbor’s envie.
A story in a book.
A dream.
A reality.
A tucked away beauty, somewhere near a castle, on the hills.
I wish I kept this one.
Well you know I am up this late, thinking about life as we know it. But here,
This was where I realized I was a writer.I would sit out on the back terrace, looking down at the rolling hills, watching everyone play their round of hurrah, golf.It was here that I often drove through the gates of oheka, looking for Nancy. Waiting for tea.
It was here I fell in love with my privacy. Being a wife et a full time Martha Stewart mother of kinds, very much younger. Way so.
It was here that I learnt to swim, truth is I almost drowned. Seriously. I kid not.
But mostly it was here, right here that I found the strength to go further.
Here it is, my past.
Oh we did have fun all the girls et I, we were social then, et carefree.
I even had my very own book club.
But honestly we barely read, sue, Jan, Marie, oh we spent all our time at Prime.
Eating salads, et judging all the women that made my book, the Brookvilles. Time flies when you are becoming my darlings.
Well Au revoir my slated, old aged charmed colonial, I miss you.bonsoir et good story rabbits,
RS
July 23, 2021
Options
I have gotten my head together, I am actually working. I cannot promise you productivity after 2am. Look here, further down, can you see?
Did you see?
oui?this book is Orphaned.
It broke me to 1,000,000 pieces. And father, my dearest father, it’s for you. Because a girl cannot grow old et grey broken, without fixing the children like her young self. And because children deserve, well they deserve a lot but what they deserve dearest world isn’t $1,000,000.00 dollars, but love. Love. Love. Love.
The kinds that make you forget things like Pain.
If you look around at least 91.8 percent of you hath failed. It’s okay, till it’s not, I hope this book reaches every orphaned child in the world. If it doesn’t, I too have failed.
Well. Back to work but before i do, there was once a famous saying I was taught on Wall Street, by some of the best stockbrokers that Wall Street ever did see,
“failure isn’t an option.”Hence, stock options do expire every third Friday of the contract month.
Now I feel like your mother too.
Yours,
RS
Ps. Et also it’s for all of you that said, “you are just a privileged girl writing for the wealthy.”
I didn’t say that did I, oh look at that I am suddenly uncouth 
Suddenly.
Oh whatever will I do
Do not disturb
I slept till 2 pm. My phone rung so many times et I tossed it under my pillow. So if you were calling, let’s pretend that you are not reading this!
My husband is astonished I literally sleep in like this.But I get so terribly aggravated when everyone calls when a lady is sleeping.
Yah right?
So I even missed my riding this am, I swear there can no words to describe such bliss. I literally am happy to be retired and from what you ask?
So I have got a massive photo shoot in a day et I swear to you I never in my life of portraits was so incredibly unprepared. My living room looks like Anna Wintour’s closet, which I must clear up before my husband walks in. Literally. I pretend sometimes I have no hats 
I know, but word of advice women, keep pretending men will never understand why you need to have your frock flown in from Poland et your hats, your hats athliered from France.
darling don’t waster your tone explaining, I according to Milly, have got issueees!I have so many so many hats, so many. I only wear once. Et I feel wasteful really but I mean let’s call it a day, I’m a writer I have zero social life as of now et my portraits are Life.
oui, life.
But good luck making me look good because I am so not into looking fabulously dainty et pouting to be made like I live en France et I’m chasing rabbits. Whilst being painted like a Renoir’s canvas. Even though that would be si magnifiquement parfait.Golly.But,
Special thanks to the man I married for getting me pink loubottoms, I shall guarantee you one thing, my ankle will be broken before or after my jaunt this pm. I laugh but I cry….
Loubottoms is sort of my trademark en my books,So days like these marriage is worth it. Shooo don’t you say that too loud. Hey who are we kidding, i am most sure, so
sure for the men you are married too, you are a walking mortgage
Two words, not happening.
I hope your days are restful et filled with equivalence like such.
Bonne chance my darlings,
RS
July 18, 2021
Private Publication January- July 2021
“merci les salopes.” January
March
April
————————
July
Your writer, Rianna Kay Shaikh
Dislocated simplicity
Dearest,
Its simple beautiful yet so complicated. Oui?
I sort of don’t want anything lately, like lately.
No reading of my books especially.
I have done a book every month of this year.
Like who does that merde?
I think I sort of crave peaceful thoughts, running en the greens chasing rabbits, while sipping tea, amongst the mansions et sweepers…The brookvilles, you were my life.
I suppose it’s the one thing Kathy et I agreed upon. Oui, Hilton. She is always a heart of perfection, always. But life is pas si simple!
But perhaps your life is simple, like such beauty in the fields of the past, evergreens too.
I laugh, mine is crisp complicated. God it is.I wish to live in France, very simple.The more I try to fit in the days of Long Island, the less it ever does. Soon to France?
oh I cannot wait to live en France again
bientôt j’espère!Love, life et leap even if it sounds fou,
RS
