Surreal and Sensual

When my instructor challenged me 2 months ago, I had no idea what it would trigger. He asked me to write a story unlike anything I'd ever written before, something not based on reality or real life. So, I shared 'Counting Raindrops' during the forum last Saturday. To my delight, the piece had evolved far from what I'd initiated a few months back. In short, the two characters had taken over and freely ran the story as their own, without me dictating them. Hence, my little experiment was successful:)

The audience's reactions were really fast too. I couldn't believe that they were listening intensely throughout; I thought the story was a bit too long for a reading, 2700 words. My instructor's immediate response was, "That sure was different!" He said he liked my writer's voice. It has become really confident, since I could talk about counting water in the pond and counting veins on the body without blinking an eye. I continued marching on without worrying whether people find it ridiculous or not. They were all going like, "Whaaat...?? It reminded him of Raymond Carver's story on the pet peacock. Who would have thought of something like that?

I knew the piece was surreal (the phrase 'magical setting' came out often), but I noticed several people also commented that it was sensual. Someone even said 'erotic'. Apparently, they all got it as a unique romance piece, one even commented that it should have more sex scenes. I cut it short for fear of it sounding like Mills and Boon. Surprisingly, even my instructor who discouraged sex-related stories said he was disappointed to find out that the couple was actually married, and that the heroine was a therapist. Hmm... looks like I can write 'unexplored' love stories now, rather than sticking to the 'safe' ones. LOL!

My co-author made a good point. He said he hated the second part of the story. After creating a magical world, I tried to explain everything in a real-world setting and it spoils the readers' mood, made the ending anti-climatic even. I should maintain the setting and weaved in the ending throughout. My instructor didn't think that would work. Others gave their views too on achieving a more subtle ending. Interestingly, this time, my instructor couldn't tell me exactly how to fix it. It was too different, even for him. He knew the 'counting' scenes were something that just came, wouldn't have worked if I'd planned it. He asked me to put the story aside and re-look at it in a few months' time. The solution could only came from me.

Oh, one girl's comment was totally opposite of the others. She said she liked the second part, the real world setting, but she hated the surreal first part. She said it sounded like a typical Malay ghost story setting. Luckily, my instructor firmly waived away her comment. I think she was hastily stereotyping, perhaps because I am Malay or my characters are Malays. The weather effects were nothing like that. In fact, I couldn't help feeling like a film producer who leisurely punched buttons to produce rain, clouds or sun. LOL!

Anyway, that felt good, very uplifting. And to think that I nearly chickened out from reading that story many times. That happened to be my least confident piece. My instructor said it was because I hadn't ventured into that area before. This is a big step ahead for me, I understand now. He said I could take a couple more months to complete the collection for my second book, there is no need to rush it.

I had been so inspired ever since that I'm churning out quite a lot of work over the long weekend:)

Counting Raindrops - 1st Cut

(continues)

She gestured for him to sit next to her. He did. She placed her right palm onto her chest. Her head bowed down, her eyes casted onto the water. Vibes of sorrow leap out from her. High above, the sky started to cry. Their surrounding gradually changed, the whole universe transformed to complement her sad song, drawn to its melancholic rhythm. He rubbed his eyes, they were misty.

He gaped, worried that she might fall into the pond.
“Try it, boy!”
He obeyed, like a puppet. He stretched his arms and touched the water.
“Boy!” His head jerked back upwards at the firmness of her voice. “Look here!” He turned to look at her.
She cupped her hands, bended down and lifted up a bit of water from the pond. She held her hands towards him. “How many drops are there?”

(more)

Close but No More than Friends

'When there is no hope, there is no hurt.'

~Hazia~

For a start, hope I hadn't hijacked some dead person's quote as above and claimed it my own. LOL! It's something I discovered yesterday. Yeah, the whole Friday morning was touchy. Thank God my staff was on leave and the office was quiet. I was practically in tears most of the time, except during the 2-hour division meeting. I initially thought that my healing process can be sped up if I don't communicate with Mr Designer for a while. I was so wrong.

I hadn't planned on talking to him at all yesterday. Unfortunately, he owed me a design which he was supposed to email the previous night. When we met the day before, he was supposed to save it in my thumbdrive but he had absent-mindedly switched off his Mac. He said he was lazy to switch it back on and would email me from his printer's place after that. I had to revert on the text yesterday itself.

At 12.00pm, I smsed his partner who was away outstation for help. I told him that I really, really didn't want to talk to the guy. And they better make sure I won't have to work during the long weekend. His partner asked me to cool off and he'll follow up for me after Friday prayers. Yeah, Mr Designer had made my blood boils practically every morning lately with his tardiness. When I exploded, it'd spoil his partner's mornings as well. I felt bad, I even apologised first yesterday. Hell, no client ever did that when it was their agency who actually screwed up.

He chased the guy. Just my luck, Mr Designer would rather call me than his partner. That explained why I always got panic attacks, he couldn't understand client servicing dos and don'ts. So, he called me. If it hadn't been work-related, I wouldn't have picked it up. He asked me whether I had eaten and was I busy, etc, etc. Then, he asked why was my voice different. Hmm... he wasn't as 'duh' as I thought. So, I took a deep breath and tried to sound cheerful. I asked if he had eaten, it was already 3.30pm. He hadn't. He had to call me back a few times to make sure that the file get through. He asked why didn't my ringtone come out. He casually mentioned again that he still hadn't eaten, and again. Oh! Normally, that'd trigger a lecture from me on taking care of his health, etc. He noticed that too. I started to relax and joked if he was fasting or... if he wanted to eat with me. Nah, too far, he was at his friend's studio.

That's another thing. His partner was away and he didn't bother turning up at the office. He is being paid on a fixed monthly salary and yet, he acts as if he's freelancing. Starting on Monday, he was supposed to be under their senior partner's military supervision, which includes being in the office from 9.30am onwards. Let me make a correction, their partnership deal had not come through yet. He was still being tested. And he's still a paid employee. Not only he gets a substantial monthly salary, his partner has kindly advanced his 2nd month salary as well. He pitied him. And that makes his partner his boss.

He didn't even tell the guy that he'd be joining his family island holiday for 2 weeks at the end of the year, let alone seek his permission. He claimed that he'd be bringing his laptop and he'd still be reachable. Yeah, but it will be exhausting to communicate and instruct him over the phone or email. I would know that.

Asking him to make changes to the text was as painstaking as always. The flow charts were too much for him. Despite wanting to change only 1/3 of it, I had to slowly go through the whole thing 3 times. It took more energy to manage him alone than to manage my 4 staffs. Briefing him was like briefing a fresh graduate, it was so texting.

The funny thing was that he was really chatty yesterday, he sounded very cheerful. He said he'd enough sleep. Perhaps because his partner was away too. So, I tried to dig as much info as possible about his other work commitments. If his partner is going to confront him next week, he better has his facts right. No point accusing in the dark. He is still working on a transition plan, or if it comes to it, a separation plan. As much as I care about Mr Designer, I think he's being gravely unfair to his partner.

Anyway, I mentioned my writers' forum today to him where I'd be reading a story. He teased me about not inviting him. I told him I didn't see the point since he won't show up anyway. He said he had to send his son to a football game. I said well, if it's not football, then it something else. I also realized something. When I don't hope for anything from him, it doesn't hurt anymore. No expectation equals to no pain.

I also saw another thing. He wants to be close to me but he doesn't want a relationship. That was where the confusion arose. Now that the pressure is off, I won't be surprise if we become even closer than before. And I have to be careful not to fall for him again. He's the wrong guy at the wrong time. I should do a solat syukur and thank God for getting me out before it is too late.

Interesting that a reader mentioned marriage in my previous entry. I mean I wouldn't want to be married to this guy. For a start, there's no telling how late he'd be for the solemnization of vows and the wedding itself. It will be a disastrous beginning to a bad marriage. Bear in mind that he was 45 minutes late in sending me to the airport in early Ramadan. He fell asleep after I called him, imagine. My heart nearly stopped beating for fear of missing my flight.

The conclusion is that I am glad that we had several long conversations over the phone yesterday. It gave me a clear perspective of everything. And no, there hasn't been any more tears ever since:)

Ready to Take a Chance Again

‘I think it's time that I let you go. And it's really hard for me to do because I know that there's a part of me that will be in love with you for the rest of my life.’
~Dawson's Creek~

I finally did it yesterday. It was like the toughest thing I've ever done in my entire life. I can feel my heart breaking. So I made an error in judgement, I forgave myself. Hey, I've made much worse mistake than this. At least, I didn't fall in love with a Vampire and risk everything like that girl in 'Twilight' (the book my teenage cousin is reading):p. In fact, when my ex-roommate first told me Mr Designer was not good enough for me only 6 weeks ago, I didn't even have a clue as to what she was talking about. She told me to take time to get to know him, but don’t take too long. Is 3.5 months short enough? This whole episode felt like a marathon to me. She was right, a 40-year old doesn’t just wakes one day and decides to change. I pity his ex-fiance who invested 5 years in him.

It all started when I caught a friend's sad status on facebook yesterday morning. So, I did a google search on 'moving on' quotes to share with her. I found a good one – ‘Letting go isn't about giving up. It's about accepting that there are things that cannot be.’ I decided to put it on my status box instead. Anyway, she saw it and commented that it was very well said. Another friend who had just gotten a divorce associates well with it too. I’d also been listening to Barry Manilow songs on Youtube. Somehow, I got hooked onto 'Ready to take a chance again' and listened to it repeatedly. Man, it worked like a therapy. Then, I saw Lenzaidi's comment for my previous entry, and somehow the whole big picture just clicked.

...And I'm ready to take a chance again

Ready to put my love on the line with you

Been livin' with nothing for show for it

You get what you get when you go for it

And I'm ready to take a chance again with you~

Mr Designer came to see me on business yesterday afternoon. He requested to delay our meeting by 1 hour, but still arrived 30 minutes late, that was like a record for him - his earliest ever. We met at the cafe at my office's building, he chose an isolated area that we'd never been to before. We sat facing each other. I waited quietly and patiently for him to touch up his design on his Mac. He was unusually calm. Not only he was 24 hours behind deadline, he wasn't even done yet. I smsed his partner who was away outstation. He apologised and asked me to leave in 15 minutes if the design was still not done.

Surprisingly, I told him it was ok. I'd just continue chatting nicely with him. I had a feeling that that would be the last time we met under such capacity and I wanted it to be pleasant. I continued talking about my stories. Then, I showed him the Statement of Plans I made for the Stegner fellowship submission. He was impressed and wished me luck. I got carried away and started sharing my holiday plans for January - we ran through a list of possible countries. I even told him about my parents plan to go for Haj for the third time in 2010, and they’ve asked me to go along again, Insyaallah. I also showed him the schedule for the design software courses that I found online. He seemed surprised that I was actually serious about learning how to use it. When he sent me home, I shared interesting developments about my unique friends from boarding school.

He was alert and more responsive too. It felt like the first few dates that we had, those were memorable. Why? Because I was doing most of the talking, and he only listened. The trouble is that I'm not the type of person who likes hearing herself talk. I don't think he was reluctant to share, but rather he really didn't have much to share. The problem started when I tried to make him talk and unveil, probed him with questions that he either found personal or exhausting. Hey I’m a creative right brain person. It’s not like I pressured him into giving views on serious world issues, only on light topics, okay. Hmm... that would be the last time I wish for a man who listens to me... the saying goes - 'be careful what you wish for'. LOL!

I still remember… 3 days after we started clicking and on our first real date, he told me that he really enjoyed my company. He had never become close to anyone that quickly. He said he learned a lot in a short period of time; his mind didn’t just remain dormant. At that time, I could feel all sorts of emotions coming from him, and he was struggling for the right words.

Sad... but initially, I thought that he had so much potential, personally and professionally. I really believed in him, in us. But every time I moved, I kept on hitting dead ends in both areas. I am so tired of bumping into walls. The very instance I sms his partner, I knew. I was ready to let him go, at last. I felt very relieved after making that decision. His partner said it was like the final chapter of a novel. Yeah, except that I better make sure there is no spin off.

I didn't have to share my decision with him. Only 3 days ago, he told me clearly that he didn't want a relationship at the time being. Only time would tell. All his life, he was always in a relationship. He needed a break, freedom without having to answer to anyone. I guess he had been hinting that all along, but I wasn't really listening. Perhaps I was in denial. Cut me some slack, he misheard my most crucial question during our first date. He told me that he broke off with his fiance 1.5 years ago, but actually it was only a week before we met. They were engaged for 1.5 years. Because of that error, I let my guard down. By the time I found out, it was already too late. I had already let him into my heart.

Forming a relationship with Mr Designer was like swimming in shallow water. Not only there wasn't much to explore, I couldn't go very far either. I've never been involved with a man like that before. He was like the star quarterback whom I happened to catch at his most vulnerable moment. I reckoned that I didn't miss much, but it was an enriching experience altogether. Hey, I took a chance with him. I put in everything I got and at the expense of quite a few others too. I jeopardised my job, my health, my peace of my mind. But it didn't work out, he wasn’t ready. It’s not just the wrong time, but also the wrong guy. Now... I'm ready to move on and take a chance again... with someone else.

I guess I won't be meeting up with him much on work anymore. I’m just waiting for his partner to return from outstation to discuss transition plans. The next time we work closely will be when he designs my book cover at the end of January. Yeah, his partner said I should still let him do it. It would create a lifetime memory, something for both of us to remember each other by. Whoever said that a fiction writer and an artist are a matchmake in heaven.

Last night, I forwarded him the Happy World Best Friends' Day wish through sms; he immediately returned the wish to me. We will always be friends, that I know. Even after we had that 'big talk' argument in his car 3 days ago, he teased me on the phone later that night. 'Apa la you ni, relax laa you...'

Yeah, we are still friends... just no hope, no expectation and no future together…

p/s: I’ve fallen heads over heels with this guy. There will definitely be many more teary days ahead. This entry serves to remind me how difficult it was for me to let him go… and how hard I tried. I didn’t give up easily.

If he were a woman...

Last night, anxiety attack kept me awake till around 3am. I was crying my eyes out prior to that. And I woke up a few times afterwards too. I think the last time I had it was when Ad supposedly fell into a coma 1.5 years ago. It is rare, it normally comes when I foresee bad news in the near future, something I'd really dread. In this case, it would be the email from Mr Designer.

I know it's cowardly but I decided to take the easy way out. My head is telling me that I desperately need a break from him, but my heart wouldn't allow it. So, rather than detaching myself from him, I opted on pressuring him to do it for me instead. He cracks easily under certain kind of pressure, so that could be done easily. When he sent me home from work last night, he said he would not waste a single more of his brain cells thinking about questions/ possibilities that I'd been throwing at him all evening. He would only send an email to reply my first question, the biggest one: "If I just disappear one day, would it make any difference to you?" He insisted on replying within 2 days and via email too.

Gosh, what I'm about to write here would sound really brutal, I hope Mr Designer himself is not reading this entry (he'd kill me). If he is, then he picks the wrong time to do so. He hardly visit, he finds reading my blog entries exhausting and unsettling. Well, I'd say this: Dear, I'm trying to talk myself into letting you go, of course I have to list down all your minus points to make me see how foolish I've been. But that does not mean you don't have many plus points, okay!

While waiting for my breakfast at the Kopitiam near my office this morning, I had another long talk over the phone with his business partner. The statement I made surprised myself. I told him that if Mr Designer were a woman, he would be a dumb blonde. Beautiful on the facade, but empty underneath - that goes for intellectually as well as emotionally. His partner cackled, he said I couldn't have chosen a more accurate description. Since inteligent men don't go for dumb blondes, should the same be for the reversed? I deserved a knock on the head, don't I?

Okay, on a more serious note, his partner and I are getting really concerned. Despite Mr Designer's unrealiable, inconsistent and arrogant ways, we both genuinely care about him. Never mind that he makes our blood boils and increase our chance of getting a heart attack; we are beginning to suspect that his problem lies beyond attitude and expertise. It's not that he's not equipped, overworked or just lazy, we are now beginning to wonder whether he has some sort of impairment, a learning disability even.

He is lucky that his father was in the international education sector and not ignorant as fathers of that generation had been. Mr Designer was sent to do a Degree in Arts and Design in a low-cost part of the UK, but the university's standard was high though. He didn't get a scholarship, his parents supported him. It was an unusual choice at a time when young people (especially boys) were were being pushed into Medicine, Law, Engineering, Accountancy, etc. It showed how advanced his father was. But what trigger such an uncommon decision in the first place?

Let me share several causes of our worry. This is beyond Mr Designer's blur-blur and poker-face appearance. You have to work very closely with him to notice. He has a problem working with text. He treats text like pictures/objects that can be moved around on a design without understanding what it means. He could not even arrange the text that I've clearly typed out and explained - he couldn't differenciate between basic info and supporting info to promote a seminar for instance; he lumped everything together. Bear in mind that I didn't brief him quickly like I did other suppliers. I would personally sort the materials/papers, slowly run through in detail and ensure he follows and give him the exact text to place. Sometimes, he would produce advertisement that does not make sense to readers, obviously he himself didn't read to understand it first. He was following intructions blindly like a parrot.

He's really slow in working on amendments, even minor ones. Remember the Saturday night we stayed late working on the presentation? That was when his partner and I realised that what we were looking at was his actual productivity level, he was not fooling around. He seemed to be moving the text boxes round and round in a circle, instead of amending them straight. For someone who's a veteran in the industry, it doesn't look like he has mastered the design software. Minor changes in text took him around 2 hours.

Recently, I was looking forward to the flow charts that he was doing for us. He showed me these 3D shapes that he could use so they won't look flat and boring. When he shared the initial stage with me (he was behind deadline as usual), I was shocked to learn that he doesn't know how to do a flow chart eg when do one use diamond, rectangular, etc. He simply 'belasah'. I'm not sure if this is common among designers though. Nevertheless, there were times when he missed my points altogether and I couldn't help thinking whether he was making fun of me on purpose. His partner assured me that he was trying his best. He also couldn't spell quite a number of common words in Malay and English too. Yeah, we are very concerned. It would be cruel for us to push him to deliver more if he has an unknown handicap.

Anyway, discipline and commitment wise, his partner and I finally decided that we have tolerated enough. Both of us need to stop pampering him and let him get away with everything. It is time to enforce plan B, part of it includes us both learning to use the design software, minimising my work-related interaction with Mr Designer (I assured his partner that I don't mind working with another designer if need be), etc, etc.

Running Away

During the weekend, I submitted my story, 'Sunny Side Up' to Writers' Digest short short story competition. The fee was USD12.

Perhaps I was inspired by that. Yesterday morning, out of the blue, I decided to google the net on writers' competition. Guess what I found? Submission for the Wallace Stegner Fellowship creative writing program at Stanford University was opened till 1 Dec 2008, 11.59pm (our time at 2 Dec, 1pm). It is a 2-year program where a living stipend of USD26,000 and a tuition fee of USD6,800 is provided. The fee is USD60 and foreigners can submit too. 10 places are offered for fiction writers and another 10 for poets. Most fellows tried a few times before they were accepted.

Hence, I spent last night sketching my Statement of Plans. First thing this morning, I wrote it. This was to explain your writing plans and how you see the fellowship contributing to it. A Manuscript of around 9,000 words was also required, this included published stories. So, I chose Chestnut Chocolate Mooncakes, The 50-Sen Queens & Swimming Elephants in Habarana from my book. The first two are the most well-praised, so I reckoned these were safe choices, the third one represents a non-human point of view. In addition, I also sent Nose Job, my new unpublished thriller, something very different from me. The total came to 10,300 words, 40 pages.

After clicking the submit button, guess what I discovered. The payment voucher appeared and I was required to make payment within 24 hours. Bear in mind that they only accept postal order / money order to be mailed over. No credit card, tt or anything. Man! No wonder I only see American names in the previous fellows' list. Also, they all have a Degree or Masters in Creative Writing, though no formal education is required. No age limit either. It all depends on the Manuscript and Statement of Plans. After all the hassle, there was only one way - to send the bank draft through DHL. The courier man came to pick up the document from me, it would still arrive like 24 hours after the deadline though. How much did it cost me? Yeah, another USD60. Man, an expensive investment in total.

When I asked my instructor's opinion, he said go ahead, there's nothing to lose except USD60. But he warned me that it would be tough, they would want to see creative work and I don't have much. He suggested the Iowa Writers' program instead. It's a 3-month fellowship for foreign students only. He could recommend me to the Embassy. Why not, I'd just give it a shot. Iowa sounds more do-able. He also suggested that I concentrate on my book first and try my luck for Stanford next year instead. What? Well, I think he meant that I was not ready. I beg to difer. This year is great. Next year, I may already have a fantastic job, a great boyfriend or something, I won't risk it la. I'd rather lose USD60, whoops, I mean USD120.

The underlying message is also I'm trying to get away from Mr Designer. I'm hoping that fate would rescue me. Oh yeah, I asked him a big question just now. He will email me the answer within 2 days. Let's say I'm already in tears. Man... what is it with this guy? Why so difficult?