Friday Five: Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar

‘Modify your story, make it real, make it whole, but don’t give up if you believe in the tale you are trying to tell.’

Portrait photo of writer Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar
Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar

The author of two books and numerous flash fiction and micro fiction stories, Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar is an Indian American writer based in Columbus, Ohio. Her flash fiction and microfiction, including her debut collection Morsels of Purple, explore the nuances of womanhood across cultural and geographic boundaries. Her novel Skin Over Milk tells the story of three girls “who bear the weight of being unwanted daughters in 1990s India.” Sara’s writings have appeared in several print and online literary journals, including Ghost Parachute, SmokeLong Quarterly, Reflex Press, and Flash Fiction Online, and have earned nominations for Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She also is a submissions editor at SmokeLong Quarterly.

In addition to her writing, Sara is a mother, wife, and IT leader who holds an electronics engineer degree and an MBA. Read on to learn how she balances the many facets of her life to consistently create wonderful stories.

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A writer’s declaration of independence

‘I hold these truths to be self-evident…’

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how many of us writers (or at least this writer) impose on ourselves, either consciously or subconsciously, certain constraints that limit our ability to express ourselves in the most authentic, true manner. When we focus on conforming to someone else’s expectations — whether it is our ideal reader, the ghost of grammarians past, the gatekeepers of the publications we hope will publish our works, our own internal self-censor, etc. — we limit ourselves and fail to live up to our potential.

So today, which is Independence Day in the United States of America and the day we celebrate the Second Continental Congress’ adoption of the Declaration of Independence on this date in 1776, I’ve decided to publish a declaration of my own.

I call it my writer’s declaration of independence.

I hold these truths to be self-evident: that as a writer, I am endowed with certain abilities, passions, talents, and interests, that among these are a life enriched by the power of story, the liberty to express my views and imaginings via the written word, and the pursuit of the happiness that comes from the writing life.

Therefore, I hereby proclaim, on this date, July 4, 2025, my own personal Declaration of Independence.

I proclaim my intent to be independent of:

  • Boarding the bandwagon of ever-shifting marketing trends — to chase after whatever is hot on the podcasts, social media, and literary journals — at the expense of expressing my true voice.
  • Following all the “correct” rules of writing, such as finishing the first draft before editing it mid-stream, showing instead of telling, always eschewing the passive voice, never shifting points of view in a single piece of writing, etc.
  • Worrying about getting published in the “right” literary magazines.
  • Fretting about getting awards or other forms of recognition.
  • Becoming boastful about any sort of acclaim my writings may achieve, should that ever happen.
  • Feeling guilty about taking a break from writing when life circumstances become overwhelming and take priority.
  • Obsessing about the number of likes, reposts, and favorable comments any of my writings (including blog posts) receive on social media.
  • A longing for acceptance into the cool writers club.
  • Pangs of jealousy that occurs when I see writers achieve success in publications that have rejected my works.

I further declare that I will strive to develop a distinctive style and voice that is true to my self, explore and express my ideas in writing without undue influence or censorship (including self-censorship), and maintain my creative autonomy and authority.

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So, there you have it. My own writer’s declaration of independence.

On those days when I’m tempted to focus on writing for someone other than my true self, or feeling down because of the crush of rejections from literary journals, I’ll need to turn back to this post and remember these lofty ideals, these declarations, to myself.

In order to form a more perfect writer.

Image via Pexels.