52 Weeks 500 Words
This is how it began: Justine (not her real name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52 weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend. Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.
"Life is full right now. I’m editing my novel and I’m in a new relationship (told you I’d tell you more later!).
Unfortunately this makes me more paranoid than ever. Remember the entry about busyness? How we use busyness as an excuse not to think, feel or act? This is at the root of my current paranoia. My fear is that I am now so busy I may be in denial about something I should be addressing. How strange are we? Always with the second-guessing.
And yet life IS full … and pretty good.
The editing is going well, and it seems the book may just get a little longer with a bit more depth, and I’m enjoying it. With the story completed, I’m actually finding it easier to see the story, if you can understand that. I see where the plot holes are, where more is needed, or stuff needs to be trimmed, and every edit (hopefully) makes it a better book.
My relationship is pretty good too! He’s a great guy, attentive and compassionate, with a romantic touch, while being also a no-nonsense sort of person. For me, a perfect combination. He is strong when necessary and a softy on the inside. Of course, it’s early days and this is the ‘honeymoon’ period, but so far so good. We don’t see each other that often, but enough to know we are both serious. And when we’re together, we have fun and we have more serious times also, learning both the good and the bad about each other. We are no longer youths wearing rose-tinted glasses, and we know to be cautious given our previous experiences, and yet there is an undeniable connection. We talk a lot!
So why the paranoia?
Is there something I’m overlooking, if not deliberately? Is my sub-conscious trying to tell me something? It’s neither the work nor the play of the present, I know, because I've already analysed both factors and they come up fine. Is there something on my back-burning mind I cannot now see?
I paused here, in the writing of this, for as I completed the back-burning sentence something fiddled at me mind.
This sense of discomfort might have something to do with my brother. As I wrote and paused, I saw his face before me. Remember, we reconciled in December? We promised we would stay in contact and visit each other? That remains true. We phoned each other, messaged and mailed, continue to do so, and we plan to get together in July. Right. Why did I see his face then?
It’s now a day later and I’m returning to finish this entry.
My brother broke his leg yesterday. He’s fine. We spoke and laughed for hours last night, so he really is okay. He needs to live with cast and crutches for a while, but that’s it. How did he break his leg? A friend’s motorbike! They were messing around on a sandy track near them, acting like stupid teenagers, when he fell … and the machine fell onto his leg.
This is freaking me a bit. I saw his face after questioning a sense of paranoia … and hear he was in fact injured? Premonition? Is that it?
I’ll let you know about this once I've had time to digest it. Signing off for now."