Lit Visions
What does the future have in store for fiction writers?
How exactly are algorithms influencing reading behaviour?
Will people still choose novels in a world of infinite entertainment options?
Does fiction serve a specific purpose in modern society?
What will cryptocurrency, NFTs and web3 mean for fiction?
These are the types of questions I hope to tackle in Lit Visions - a monthly newsletter (and podcast) which probes the future of fiction through a number of different lenses - writing, reading, culture, publishing, technology, economics and philosophy.
Why am I doing this?
Hello there, my name’s Dhru and I’m an entrepreneur who’s built products like HaikuJAM (a mobile game that helped 1.5M people write together and feel better) and Inspo (a search engine for inspiration used by organisations like Royal Enfield, Dentsu and Baskin Robbins). In nearly all of my projects, there has been a recurring theme of human creativity, and the medium closest to my heart is the written word.
I’ve always been an avid reader and writer of fiction. During university, I wrote a novella in verse, inspired by Vikram Seth’s The Golden Gate (which received some early praise from Baron Michael Dobbs, author of the House of Cards trilogy) and I’m currently working on my first novel. One of the themes I explore in my story is the future of literature, and it’s a topic that I find both exciting and occasionally worrisome: exciting because of all the inspiring fiction that continues to be published; worrisome due to the inevitable uncertainty that accompanies the ever encroaching future.
A part of me feels grossly unqualified to utter a single word on fiction. After all, I’m not a literary academic or even a published writer (yet). But I’m choosing not to acquiesce to self-doubt for a number of reasons: the first being that my goal is not actually to be widely read or heard; rather, I myself want to learn more about fiction’s future, to help prepare me - both as a reader and writer - for whatever lies in store. And regular writing and conversations are wonderful mediums for crystallising thinking and formulating perspective.
Second, for what I currently lack in literary pedigree, I possibly make up for in mindset. And I don’t mean this in a motivational, underdog “I’ll get it done no matter what” kind of way. Rather, I feel that inquiries into the future, of any kind, often attract a certain flavour of mind: early-adopting, utopian, technologically-obsessed, hyper-capitalist. Folks who don’t hesitate to burn bridges with the past, so long as they reach the future. People who hold the crystal ball as a metaphor of highest regard, in a temporal sense. To them, summoning the future is the noblest possible act - regardless of casualties or collateral damage on past and present. Note, I am of course making huge generalisations here, but I do believe there is some truth to the above caricatures of futurists, based on my albeit limited experiences. Also know, by no means am I taking or implying any kind of moral high ground here: futurists play a critical role in the human story and I’m simply sharing some personal but relatively dispassionate observations. Now, I somewhat identify with this starry-eyed camp of thinkers but I don’t completely belong to it. I’ve always had a bit of an awkward relationship with the future: on one hand, I am forever an optimist and championing us - the human race - to keep moving forwards; on another, I hold a deep reverence for all things ‘old’ and classical (like Bob Dylan and Royal Enfield motorcycles). To summarise my position in a line: I am excited about the future so long as we don’t lose our essence along the way.
At the risk of sounding arrogant and perhaps even naïve, I do believe that such an attitude towards the future is beneficial - especially when the modality of inquiry is a highly sensitive one, like fiction. For it has a long past and an incredibly vested tribe of peoples who pray that their beloved medium doesn’t get reduced to a cultural footnote, in the sea of alluring technologies and richer media. I’ve observed many writers to be averse to trends and technology, which are often glitzy, fast-moving and loud - traits that are at odds with the ones that fiction require, like solitude, patience and time. Thus they could get left behind and not have a proper say in the very craft they’ve so lovingly cultivated. And this informs my third reason for starting Lit Visions: to hopefully provide perspective to the fiction community, as well as ongoing encouragement to consciously participate in its future.
Lastly, and this is by far the most important motivation for starting any new endeavour, I hope to have a lot of fun. Fiction has brought countless hours of joy, therapy and meaning to my life, and it will be a blast to dive deeper into its tomorrow.
Into the crystal ball we go.
Some housekeeping
Each month, I plan to publish one in-depth written newsletter as well as two podcast conversations - which will all be delivered to your inbox.
To share feedback, suggestions or if you’d like to say hello, drop me a Tweet or email dk@dkarwa.com.
