Just a few days ago, I reached out to an old friend from high school. We haven’t been in contact privately for 30 years (gasp). It was only during COVID time we had a group Zoom call (it was a nightmare for me, and I had only done it once voluntarily) between several ‘close’ high school friends. Close as in, three decades ago. To be honest, I struggle to find similarities now because we all studied in different places, took up different majors, and grew up with different adult aspirations. The video call was awkward (to me, at least). Every question felt like interviews or strangers stuck in the same place trying to pass the time by asking basic but invasive questions.
I guess they all felt the same because no one suggested
another Zoom call. Actually, maybe they do it regularly without including me,
and I’m very fine with that! We also have a group chat, and again, it feels
bizarre every time just to have birthday greetings, golf claps, standard
replies, and small talk, and it dies down again. I skipped some birthday wishes
because I couldn’t take the formality anymore, but they are very lovely people.
I finally go along with it, say my wish, and get it over with. We never seem to
go beyond the mandatory small talk and occasional jokes. I think the problem is
too many parties in the group. Everyone would talk to everyone and ask generic
questions because we don't want to alienate the others, so it’s hard to make
actual connections after so long.
The one friend I reached out to privately was my best friend
back then. We clicked well, we played together, and we were the only two who
never used staircases to go down because we preferred to slide down through the
railings (we still had to go up manually, dang gravity). Unfortunately, we grew
apart during the significant phases of adult life and never caught up again
except through the awkward group.
However, she holds a special place in my heart because she
was my best friend and was and still is my one and only co-writer. Both of us
developed a novelette together for fun. I wrote a part or a chapter, she
continued, and we passed it back and forth without knowing what the other had
in mind. Most times, we also had no idea about how to continue the story until
we wrote it. It was handwritten, of course. It was 1994-1995.
The good thing about that time was that we didn’t have
handphones, internet, or other entertainment that consumed time the way they do
today. That was why we had a flock of fans, our schoolmates. We wrote that in
the third year before we graduated. We were in different classes, so we could
only exchange the story during recess time and took turns to bring it home. I
still remember how the ‘book’ looked, a stack of torn (neatly) pages from books
(with lines) stapled together. Many would read it during the day. Those schoolmates
studying in the same class would pass it around and snuck it between textbooks
to read them when the teachers faced the other way. It would get back to me or
her so that we could continue the story.
We finished the novelette in a few months, with holiday and
examination breaks. We ‘published’ it. Each fan got a copy, and I asked her to
hold the original because she initiated the writing.
I can’t speak about other authors, to me, books are very
personal. It sounds exaggerated and mushy, well yes, sometimes I feel like it’s
like baring my soul, and I have to kill those who have read it. Don’t worry, I
only feel this way for people who know me in real life. (I’d love for you to
read my books. No harm will be done! Promise!) It took me years to tell a
handful family and friends. Only after my latest book above did I reveal it to
my two good friends, the current one who only knew I write but didn’t know my
pen name or books, and the long-lost one mentioned above. How? With tremendous
difficulty. I know I shouldn’t feel that way and make this more difficult than
it should be, but I couldn’t help it.
After doing that, it feels liberating. I want them to like my
books, of course, especially my one and only co-writer. We loved each other’s writing
back then, so I hope the odd is in my favor. Whatever it is, I am at peace. I
think I have done what I need to do. I have reached a point where I feel
confident enough and have pulled the band-aid.
P.S. Locky is my current 'co-writer.' He always makes sure I get enough love and attention.
P.S.S. It's hard to type with a dog on the lap but not impossible.
A heartfelt post-apocalyptic dystopian about human struggles in a world where almost everything has been replaced by automation. 100% human effort, with sweat, tears, and a tiny bit of blood.
I hope this is your cup of tea/coffee/beer/any beverage of your choosing.
If you pick up the book, thank you so much. It really means a lot and keeps me going. Again, a very special thank you to my beta readers.
And, of course, to you all, thank you always for being here.
Have I said too many thank you? NEVER!
