day 20

In the book, Men are from Mars and Women from Venus, it talks of a point in a woman's life when her wave
crashes. My wave has been heading to the shore all week and today it finally crushed.

I was moving house and feelings of helplessness and sadness took over.
I  felt bad to leave my birds- I know they'll miss me. I also met new people, some pleasant, some I admired, some I watched from a distance. And even though the condominium I stayed has a bad name from the police raids it gets  every other day, I didn't experience any trouble, on the contrary, everyone I crossed paths with was nice. I'll miss the lake too, and the boy who wore jeans and stripped shirts and nearly missed the bus all the time.

So when I got to my new place, I felt heavy with fatigue, sadness and a river.
But my friend said she'd come online and chat with me after work. She's been my friend since high school and always makes me happier.

I read a few chapters of Anne of Green Gables. It's an amazing book. It gives me such an imagination.

Yesterday I did some more editing and proof reading, not as much as I would like but I'm getting somewhere.

I will do more and talk less, rather type less words..

day 19

"Are you going to maybank?"
"Yes."

So when I saw him take a different route I stood up and walked to the front to ask him again.

"Are you going to Maybank?"
"No"
"You said. You. Were . Going . To . Maybank." I said through gritted teeth.

"Okay okay, sit , sit, I go."

I sat behind his seat fumming and preparing for war. Here we were very close to Putrajaya Central, yet I was supposed to be a half hour journey in the opposite direction. We got to the station and everyone alighted. I didn't move an inch.

He drove off at 200km per hr, and I was thinking wo hoo!He's taking me back to Maybank. Then I thought, oh no, maybe he's a suicide bomber and is going to crush
the bus into the first bridge column. So I sat silently and hoped.

Ah, then he turned and I saw Maybank.

"Terima Kasir!" I said to him and flew out of the bus.

He drove away, back to the station. Perhaps cursing me, perhaps cursing himself for trying to be clever.

I was smiling really hard, it's unusual for that to happen. The least I expected was to be kept packing at the station until the next bus came half an hour later.

Chapter 5 and 6 is going pretty well. I need to edit the punctuation since I've changed the narrator to third person. I expect to have more time next week I will finish them off and start tying the rest of the chapters. There's no response yet from the publishers. I have to wait 6-8 weeks for them to have a look at it and decide whether to publish. I expect response on one of them, which I sent 7th April soon. Meanwhile, I applied for a copy writing job in one of the Malaysian publications.

I'm tired to the bone marrow, and I will be shifting again on Friday. You'd think I'd have got used to it by now but every time I have to move, which is every few weeks it always feels like a major life shift, which it is in a way because I'll need at least a week to adjust at my next place.

18

I was invited to tea last evening and couldn't be bothered to come back to the
house. English tea means pies and roast and gravy and all that kind of thing. I call it super.

I have to go out in a while to fill out forms- that seems like my
career now, feeling up forms. I do hope they'll give me some forms to fill
for food stamps soon, that I wouldn't mind filling.

Anyway. I've been telling myself I should wait until evening to write this when I'm calmer but I've decided I never followed reason at anytime anyway so I might as well write now when I have fire in me. It could be from the episode of The Avatar- the last air blender me and my friend's kids watched this morning, it could be my hormones acting up,or it could be the fighting mood that has possessed me the last few days.

I woke up on Saturday raging. I was supposed to go out study with some kids but it rained and I was glad it did coz I was obviously in no position to sit and tell kids - no, we must restrain ourselves when people anger us, like the Great Teacher-

So I stayed home and edited the things I told you a couple of days ago, what someone called a Scotsman bad English. All that does to me is remind me that English is a foreign language. After the first page I can't tell who's worse off, me or the Scot.

Then, I typed a query for a children story to phoenix publishers in Kenya.
I grew up with their books- Beautiful Nyakio, The sun and the wind. Those kind.I'm hoping they'll like my idea.

I have to say though, I don't feel very enthusiastic.

I am afraid I might not get responses from these publishers.

I also feel a bit down, and this is my opinion, but I'm not just saying but I've been with people, and when everyone is talking, I listen and I watch and observe get called slow. I have realised that I come from a society that doesn't believe in girls' education. Yes. I always thought that was the North Eastern people habit but oh no. And since I got this understanding,I get it now.

I will write more sense in the next entry. I cleverly uninstalled my Ms. Office from my computer.
I just clicked on it ' because I thought I didn't need it' now I have to do my typing on notepad.

Computer for DUmmies, anyone?

Day 17, Calm down my heart, life is steps.

Three things took my breath away today.

A sunset so red, so round, so big, so confident , like a sun should be.

A small red flower which I later saw was actually orange not red and I stuck it to my hair all day

A lad that wore a black suit, a white shirt and thin orange tie. He reminded me of a chief as I imagine they looked  7 generations ago. Tall, proud, with a good color combination.  

I had an urge to write last night because I had had a really extra-ordinary day. I don’t remember most of it now but in the morning I was really bashed up with little sleep and self pity.
Around three in the afternoon I walked into a Chinese restaurant and was looking at the food asking what is this what is that. So the guy packed me a full plate of handmade noodles with beef and lettuce. I was getting out my wallet to go pay at the counter. I asked what the  combination was called, he said –mee tarik. Then he looked at me and said, no need to pay lah, just have it, but come again. You should have seen my smile. I went to sit in one of the metal chairs feeling funny like you feel when you’re in a day dream. I happily ate the meal . I had some money, but not really. What I mean is, I had rm 10. The meal was Rm.6 and honestly, that much on a single meal would blow off my “budget” completely.

 I was remembering the verse in Isaiah 55:1) Hey there, all YOU thirsty ones! Come to the water. And the ones that have no money! Come, buy and eat. Yes, come, buy wine and milk even without money and without price.

And I was smiling thinking, Jehovah hit me with that one to get me off my self pity.

Today I printed out chapter four and five of the novel to proof read. For chapter five, I wrote it in first person but I‘m going to change it to third person narration. A suggestion I read from a book about changing the point of view of a chapter. I edited chapter four and since it’s only 800 words, I will patch it up with another part I haven’t typed but would fit in as chapter four.

Last night I felt the temptation to send in  an old poetry manuscript from 2006. It’s complete, over a hundred pages, with illustrations and five different cover designs, all by my dear friend Ken. It has poetry dating back to year 2001. Since  my writing has changed  to a certain degree, when I went through it it felt a bit basic and too contemporary but I guess there is no harm since at that time I really felt that was super work. I’ll write a query and decide whether to send it.

Otherwise, it has been a good week, even though I did a few things which thinking back I told myself- Some of the things you do Ciss,can only be explained  with medical terms. That felt satisfactory enough, especially after hitting my knee on a crossbar someplace. Don’t ask what I was doing. Just that sometimes I imagine I’m Catherine Ndereba.

I took a walk to the lake and watched some fishermen, they had a big net and caught about three small fish for the half hour I was there, and some frenzied guys on a motorbikes were asking- you alone ah? No friend ah? I wished to show them a video called cat calls by  Amalia Ortiz, try find it on youtube it's funny.

 I  enjoyed the wind and imagined I was at the beach.

Moyo wangu tulia, maisha ni hatua

day 16

(the art in us)

I totally forgot today, until I got a 'kind' reminder from one of my faithful readers. My days have once again ran into each other. I spent the afternoon at the 6th Islamic Economic Forum at Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre. I’m not Muslim but I live in a Muslim country. My friend was screening some short documentary films he made in Thailand and had some free passes.
There was art, live music, comedians and I got to talk to one Mohmd, can’t spell his other name and I didn’t write it down. He is an artist who paints with his toes.

I came home and checked my mail to see if the publishers replied, not yet. But, I got news from Robert, he’s translating one story to Swahili, he finished it, and will be sending it for me to have a look. :)

I also was thinking about my old journals, whether to get rid of them or read through them first. I tore off the cover from one to use it in one of my poetry books. So I am not sure, the journals have some deep stuff which could be turned into a novel, but on the other hand the very reason that I had those thoughts written down and not spoken might mean they are not really meant for public. Maybe I should concentrate on typing out the rest of the novel in case the publisher wants to read it.

I read a few more chapters of Men are from Mars Women are from Venus in the bus and learnt that- the secret of empowering a man is never to try to change him or improve him- aha ha. My point exactly.

I have a list of undone things, I'll see how I manage before the weekend. My housemate vanished and it's not funny staying alone. Well, unless it's your house and you're a single person, or a widow/er , but then the house would be small and you might have  a pet....
I've been feeding the two birds that live under the tiles. Not feeding, more like leaving scraps for them . I left them pear pieces and some snack from an Indian shop. They were making a lot of noise this morning standing by the food but it doesn't seem touched. Maybe they don't like that kind of food. And i find myself  wishing I was an old lady with 5 cats and a parrot.

DAY 15- click send

I woke up annoyed and disturbed. It was too hot last night and I kept waking up to turn on the air conditioner higher and lower, to open the doors then close and other similar night activities.

So as I made tea and thought about my life I realised I need to change my perspective. I need to work harder. I need to be more courageous. I need to do something to assist others instead of waiting for people to assist me all the time.
I Lack fire. I’m going to get fired up.

I will do my work. I will finish things I need to finish. I will do things a little more faster. I don’t have to worry about being out in the street. Jehovah hasn’t let that happen, why should I worry now.
I will write more. It is the only thing I have passion for, the only thing I can do everyday.

I also realized that I need to love more. I don’t love enough. Yeah, it hit me right in the face. I am afraid of being hurt and disappointed and ‘losing myself.’ So I will love more, starting with the ones that surround me. I don’t necessarily mean romantic love. Basic love which everyone practices.
So filled with this new fire. I took out my book queries and stories and read them over. I got out my book of addresses and started to type.

I sent the novel to East African Publishers. I sent one of the children story to Ladybug Malaysia.
There can only be three answers.
Yes, No , Maybe. Let’s see what they give me.
If they don’t reply . I will call them to find out what answer they’ll issue.

Day 14

There is someone that wakes me up at four every morning by banging their door very hard. Usually I just lay and try to go back to sleep with difficulty but today I stayed on. It was very dark. If I knew who it was, we would not tell each other good(I’d give him a piece of mind).

I typed the query to the editor, a synopsis, and table of contents. I went through it a couple of times and it felt ready to be sent.  So I composed an e-mail and sent.

To my cousin. If you know my cousin this is as good as sending to some guy in specs at a publishing company. When I finished highschool and was very sensitive and conscious with my looks, it was my cousin who told me- You can never be a model, you don’t have any boobs. What followed was pure circus, a few had dropped jaws, others were waiting to see what would burst (what would happen)in the room, I was swirling, insulting and threatening. My uncle lit a cigarette and went to dig a hole behind the house.

He was right anyway,  so sending my manuscript to him was the bravest thing I did all week. He’ll probably look at it and ask me-why don’t I concentrate on writing love poems?

I also sent it to my friend Estah, because she likes a good story and will correct me. She told me the names are not all that so I need to find  good names for a novel.  

I did not meet the deadline, but I’m happy I have the query, the synopsis, chapters 1,2 and 3 and a  scope of how long the rest might take to type.

In  a sense, I did beat the deadline since I am just waiting for the critics then I can forward the e-mail to EAP.

This morning I remembered something about my first language. It reads this way  B C D E G H I J K M N O R T U W Y The vowels are a e i o u ĩ ũ , and we have syllables like nga, ngwa, twi, ng’e  ng’we, ndwa, ng’u. I was trying to spell the greeting – wĩmwega, are you fine? To a European, it was like me trying to write Tamil.

I will send the manuscript  this week, when I have  no doubt that I’ve done my best to present  myself well.

What I don’t understand is their asking for a picture. I remember the last time I did some freelance.   Meeting my boss in person cost me my job, somehow. He didn’t think someone my age should write a society column. As if we don’t have google to tell us everything. So I’m not happy about being asked for my picture, what does my picture got to do with anything? I don’t even have one decent picture to send to publishers, They should say what type of posture, not just passport size, I’m not applying for and accounting job

 I'm considering sending them these.

  pictures can bring long stories, you might now hear them asking for  a chromosome test based on the pictures. That will be the end  my career.