It is a truth universally acknowledged that when you plan to do something, all the universe conspires in helping it ‘not to happen’. I do understand the pessimistic and faux approach that I have given to the saying but what exactly do you say when the vicious cycle goes on and on and there is pretty much nothing that you could do to alter things.
Complaining sounds meagre when the world itself is topsy-turvy and trauma is threaded into everyone’s skin this year. Who am I to speak when there is a scream outside so loud that it frightens you. The chills are unspeakable.
So, I have been waiting for this far too long now. Been planning it since June, drafting, redrafting, keeping aside things, scheduling, profiling routine, so as how to do it. And then a day prior all goes down the drain. There is an inner laugh as to how could I even think of planning something in advance, more like wasn’t it too obvious?
I almost gave up, and hoped to do it some other time. What can be done. But why not just give it a try, the plot itself is scary, why not just go with the flow and if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t. No loss.
The day doesn’t yet unfold, and I write with my fingers crossed. I start with an extremely early morning, and write approximately 2000 words in precisely 100 minutes. That’s how I have divided it. Not by chapters, but by words. If I finish about 1700 words a day, I write about 50k words in a month which is how I might, ‘might’ finish my first draft of NANOWRIMO2020
It’s a big deal for me. It is. I didn’t know of yesterday, nor would I of the next moment. But for here & now I am trying, a small chapter written as the sky was pink and ethereal. Now that I think about it the morning seems unreal. Did it really happen?