It’s a calm Saturday for me and this weather calls for staying indoors and reading a book or two as I drink from a bottomless coffee mug. So, what have I been up to? A little bit of this and that is what I’d say, so here’s a summary of my weekend in ten points.
One: I have written 10,000 words for NanoWrimo. This is my fourth year as a participant and somehow I find myself relaxed and unmoved by the desire to meet the target. We’ll see how it goes.
Two: I just checked my Netgalley dashboard and I’ve got 22 books to read. So, I hope I can finish them by 14th December, then take a break from reviewing books.
Three: I am looking forward to reading 4 titles by Wednesday.
Four: I can’t stop listening to:
Valentine by Hillsong Worship
So Will I (100 Billion X) by Hillsong Worship
Five: I’ve been dancing to this song this week every time I pass by the mirror, it’s so weird, but I guess by now I am officially weird.
Six: I received some insightful feedback on my book Fire, this week and I was too excited I bumped my knee on the table.
Seven: I’ve been off dairy products for thirteen days now and my Mom’s worried that my caffeine intake would probably be detrimental to my health because (a) she does not understand why I drink coffee before I go to bed and can sleep peacefully and (b) she does not get why I wake up at 4am to write. However she is glad that I do not wake up at 2am anymore.
Nine: I’ve been reading The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell and is it just me but once you read one of his books you want to read all of his works? I only felt that with Chinua Achebe and Khaled Hosseini.
Ten: I’m dreading doing laundry. So, I end this post right here and go and make another pot of coffee.
I came across this tag on The Bibliophagist blog this morning and I delved right in. She’s got interesting facts to share read her responses here.
I am not a big fan of Sci-Fi.
Reading in a matatu especially during long distance travels is a pleasure.
It’s my book and when I come across a phrase that ignites a spark in me, I’ll highlight it.
I’ve got a storage container with 50 books for my daughter and future generations.
I am not a stickler for order. If a book is part of a series, chances are I’ll read the third book before reading the first.
I get distracted when I am reading an ebook because for some reason, my ereader is also connected to my phone and notifications take me away from my reading.
I collect pencils.
I collect erasers (love the black magnetic erasers 🙂
I’m a huge fan of leather bookmarks which are available at Hilton Arcade and the Maasai market in Nairobi.
I write tidbits of insights when reading a book so that once I’m done, I can immediately write a review.
I’ve read more eARCS this year than any other year in my life.
I love writing at four in the morning.
Coffee and cake are always good company while reading a book.
I hate it when people are quick to ask for PDF copies of books or even share such when they could buy the book and support the writer.
I am not quick to jump on any bandwagon of a hyped up book. I’ll wait till it dies down and then read it.
Look, there’s the book and then there’s the movie; the former is straight from the Writer’s imagination and the latter is from a script, edited, cut short to fit a time slot.
I am a sucker for romance.
If it’s by Nalini Singh or Leslie North, chances are I’ll read it.
I believe that no book is worth less than a 3 star rating.
I love paperbacks more than hard cover books, because most of the time, I am tempted to either tape the jacket to the book or remove it so that it’s not damaged.
I do not like taking tea while reading. I prefer taking coffee.
I’m not a huge fan of novels that come with pictures, especially if it’s historical fiction, I have a hard time focusing on the writing when there are pictures.
Every year, most writers take up the National November Writing Challenge aka NanoWrimo, where the goal is to write 50,000 words (full length novel) in 30 days. This boils down to roughly 1667 words per day.
I am one of such writers.
It’s the fifth day and I have written 7,500 words and instead of doing a happy dance and indulging in three cups of black coffee, I’ve been watching this Turkish telenovela that I’m obsessed with [ Erkenci Kus].
Andrew Neel/ Unsplash.com
So, what do you do when you have been writing this story that in your mind is so awesome, but a few words in, it suddenly falls flat?
Should you:
(a) stop writing [ I am extremely tempted to do this because, hey, I have done it before and the number of incomplete manuscripts under my bed outnumber my shoes].
(b) keep writing
(c) ask the world, but surely not google, because you don’t have time to go through over a thousand search results.
(d) take a break, do the opposite of what you really want to do.
If I had a star rating for every time I’ve been pushed into patience by these words and this writing life, then I’d be the queen of stars and could probably trade one or two for a book. This month’s started out in an unexpected way, losing an aunt and my grandfather in a span of fourteen days, certainly has taken it’s toll on my mom and there’s more to be done here and there, but I’m taking each day and each surge of loss as it comes.
The best part is that I’m finally reading Cloud Atlas and can always go on adventures when I cannot seem to write anything.
When I look back, I wonder how she bears it all; to bury five children, to lose what you knew would never be your own.
To see the sun, the moon, the spring, summer and fall…
And like the rain, I poured.
When I look back, I see your face among them, souls thriving on keeping up appearances, bodies yearning for redemption, throats liquored up, children lined up, hopes squashed…the same people who made promises and like me, abandoned them to the wind.
Be careful what you tell a child,
More so, what you make a child see…every day.
And like the rain, I poured, my thoughts like drops that hit the earth, gone but not forgotten, splashed but not ignited…these thoughts are like the rain, these feelings are not the rain, they ooze out of me, unashamed, relentless and full of vengeance.
I have been counting the days to the end of this month and somehow, knowing that we’ve got five days left has me feeling a bit anxious.
When it comes to writing, I could say that this month’s been gracious and I have written one short story series, This Love and managed to wrap up September’s short story series Swazuri.
I also managed to ship a few copies of my books and sold them to friends, and their feedback has been much appreciated.
However, the one question I’ve constantly been asked this month is “when is your next book going to be available?” In the first week of hearing this question, I was more relaxed and quick to give the Writer answer “soon,” but as time went by, I felt choked by it, more like I was failing readers by not releasing a book immediately and in an attempt to please my Mentor, I emailed him the manuscript of Sifuna and he said “it’s rubbish!”Can I just say that there’s no one whose neck I’d love to wring as much as my Mentor’s?
He was right.
I will not aim to please because it’s my name on the book cover. I am the one who is sharing a story with a reader and inviting them to invest in it, so there’s no way I am going to produce something that I know to be incomplete.
Kyle Glenn/ Unsplash.com
So, I started by saying that I was counting the days to the end of October, and this is solely because I am participating in NanoWrimo (check out my profile) hoping to see where my love for this new novel idea will take me.
That’s all there is to say and I’ve got Hillsong’s So Will I ( 100 Billion X) on repeat as I attempt to create an outline for this upcoming writing project.
My mother always warned me about buying half price.
She stopped me from buying sweet bananas when I was in class five. She stopped me from looking through a pile of colorful tops at Kibuye market when I was in class seven and in the supermarket she would tell me “look at the expiry date!”
Unsplash.com
I thought I was smart until I walked into Naivas Supermarket and bought two sets of Fa Deodorant (Roll on Sticks) only to get home and realize they were going for half price because they would expire in 14 days.
My mother always warned me about buying half price but all her life she lives as though she is priceless.
It’s from her that I know not to ignore that voice in my head when it tells me otherwise.
It’s from her that I choose to love, let go of love and most of all, not to blame myself for someone else’s actions.
She would always look at me and say “if you truly value something, then half price does not come near it, you can always go above and beyond, but never cut it to half. Well, the best would be to create it then and it’d be priceless, now wouldn’t that be something?”
So, when this love of mine says that I have no heart, I sit back, brew some coffee and think of half price. I think of how far away it is from compromise, and how it can be mistaken for the other. I think of how easy it is to the bear guilt over words that are spoken unto us, words that would become labels, that we wear like our skin, judging us with every breath…and there’s no price I’m willing to pay for that kind of feeling, not even, half price.
“I can’t do this Mark. I am not like you and you cannot expect me to turn a blind eye to all this, what I mean is that, a part of me will always be weary of your actions. I’ll be the kind of girlfriend who listens in on your conversations when I know it will do nothing but hurt me, and I am not for that, why hurt myself when I can ease myself of the pain?”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Get another job or something…anything but what you do.”
“I have worked on this for five years, created contacts, partnerships with hospitals and pharmaceutical companies, it is not an investment I can walk away from just like that.”
“Well, I guess that’s that then.”
“It is I guess and as much as I try, I have always known that I cannot have it all. Christine, let’s get you home. Thank you for taking the time to think this through.”
“Mark…”
Joshua Harris/Unsplash.com
He smiled at me, got me to my feet and we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. Each step I took felt lighter, but when I got to the car, I could not bring myself to breathe.
My love had me and let me go like I was the wind.
What would he say for himself? Was he not going to ask me to re-evaluate my decision, or maybe at least beg? Six months of emotions and he was going to step back and watch me walk away, just like that? Why was I even at odds about it? I was the one who chose to step back from my love, why was I perplexed that he was not fighting for me? How was he to fight for something that wanted to be free of him?
But, it was not just something, it was me.
This was my love.
This was him and I…two people, two souls, one who lived in an alternate reality, who wanted the gifts, love, caresses and protection but not funded them. Oh my…my love was nothing like the riot act I knew about…my love wanted Mark under my terms and conditions and if they did not apply, then my love wanted out.
Had he made any ultimatums on his love?
As the driver made his way to my apartment, all I remembered were the times when we’d be at a party, at an event, anywhere in public and I’d catch him staring at me. His eyes, his body shifting ever so slightly to acknowledge my presence.
“You are quiet Christine, what is going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing, I am just tired.”
“Don’t worry, we are almost there. I’m sorry I kept you up so late.”
“It’s okay, I am off tomorrow so I am not worried about getting sleep.”
“Sure.”
He did not utter a word until the driver pulled up right outside the flat where I stayed. Mark had been here thrice. He stepped out of the car and held the door for me and walked me to the stairs.
“So, you’d better go in and get some rest Christine, okay?”
“Mark, are you not angry or disappointed?”
“You made your decision Christine and I promised that I would respect it, I guess I’ll think about it when it finally sinks in, but for tonight I am more concerned about your well being.”
“Forget it Mark, what well being? How can you be so calm? Why won’t you fight for me or for us? Are you just going to let me go like that? Like I never meant anything…”
“Christine…sit down, just sit for a second and breathe.”
“Why should I breathe?”
“You’ll die if you don’t.”
“This is not funny Mark.”
“No, it’s not, but I change my mind. You are not a single rose in the dark, you are more the thorns that serve to protect the bud but often get in the way and hurt the petals while they’re in bloom. You put yourself down when you are conflicted Christine, now, let’s get you inside your apartment and you’ll sleep on this and wake up feeling refreshed tomorrow.”
“You are crazy.”
“You love me for it Christine and for the record, I never said I gave up.”
“Good, because here’s the deal, you do what you have to do, just don’t tell me about it, because I know from time to time my mind will come up with all these negative outcomes. But, I want you Mark and I want us to work.”
“We’ve been working Christine, haven’t you been around?”
“Shut up and stop being so charming!”
“Hey, at least I am charming. Goodnight love.”
“Goodnight love.”
I locked the door once he’d stepped back and walked to my bedroom, the radio was still one just like I’d left it and with a slow hum, it hit me. I had this love and I chose to keep it after knowing what it felt like to want to throw it away. My love had never left, it had only been undergoing an evaluation, but I was too invested, too optimistic to want out and Mark…he had his love.
It is for this sole purpose that when he pushed back his chair and reached out for my hand, I knew right there and then, that everything would be like the smoke. It was and was not there. It stung my nostrils, watered my eyes but even then, it only existed when I called it to the present moment.
Sharon McCutcheon/Unsplash.com
“Christine, do you love roses?”
“Yes, who does not love roses?”
“Well, a lot of people believe that they are too cliche, but you remind me of a single rose, standing out in the dark. Do you know what I mean?”
“No, I am sorry I do subscribe to your philosophy, look, we need to talk, Mark.”
“We are talking. We have been since you got here.”
“It’s not that…look, can you stop playing with my hair…look, Mark, stop all that…sit down!”
“As you wish…let’s sit.”
“Look, Mark…this is just so difficult for me, how can we be together when what you do could harm your life or worse off, what would people say?”
“I am a Pharmaceutical Investor, what more would people say?”
“Mark, you told me that you deal in acquisition of organs, and we are talking about human beings, like do you simply receive a call for someone asking if they can get a kidney or say some blood and you make another call and voila, it’s done? It’s a crime, it’s wrong!”
“When you have a child who needs a blood transfusion but the hospital tells you that the blood bank cannot give it to him or her because they do not have it, what do you do? Do you sit back and watch your child die or do you post it on facebook, call other hospitals and keep asking until one person or two show up to save your child’s life?”
“It’s not the same Mark and you know it!”
“My dear, it is how you choose to see it and our healthcare system is plagued with so many ills. I worked as a Doctor for a year to realize this, but there is nothing as bad as knowing the system or the institution you belong to failed to achieve it’s mandate. People do not go to hospitals for a check-up, only to be wheeled to the morgue. Look, I am glad we are talking about this, and you are still reeling from it all, so tell me, what’s bugging you?”
“I don’t know, it’s just odd Mark. I mean, I never expected this and it’s just, I can’t explain what I feel.”
“Come here.”
Yes, I leaned into his embrace and he held me as the night grew into her own. I had questions and I expected a sense of rage to overwhelm me, but every fire that burned in me was put out by Mark.
A charm for every doubt, my mother would call it, but even so, was this what I envisioned?
So, my love was with me, but so was every doubt, every fear and what threatened my love was not giving in to it, but giving in without giving caution a hearing.
When you meet love, before they consume you, kindly send them my way…I’ll be the girl in black braids waiting with a five liter jerican of kerosene and fingers ablaze.
Xuan Nguyen/Unsplash.com
Mark had me when he bumped into me in that grocery store. I wonder, was it easy like this for anyone? To live for the one your heart calls out to. To wait for their call, to look for them in a crowded bus stop, to see their faces in song, to hear their voice on the radio and to yearn for time to stand still so you can cherish a few more seconds with them.
I wore a short black dress. Mark does not care much for black dresses, but his love for burgundy is evident by the number of dresses in that color that are hanging in my closet.
His driver arrived fifteen minutes early and waited for me to get ready before we took off for the restaurant.
Mark was waiting at the lounge for me such that when the driver opened the door, I saw him coming down the stairs, his eyes fixed on me, taking up every inch of me the way they traveled from my heels to my eyes. He smiled and stretched out his hand and I took it.
It was his for the giving and mine for more the support than the taking.
How did we end up here? One the prey, the other…the one who hunted the hunter?
“Thank you for coming Christine. You are beautiful.”
“You mean, I look beautiful? Wow, thanks.”
“No, you are beautiful. Looks are fleeting, but you my dear, are beautiful through and through and I am honored that you chose to have dinner with me.”
“You always have a choice. You made yours and I know I made it seem like you had no choice, but that’s what pressure does to people, doesn’t it? Anyway, thank you for being here. I look forward to dining with you.”
“You do?”
“You are nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“You repeat what I say or say odd things when you are nervous. Right now, your right eye brow is raised and you are about to slap my arm…see, there, so you are nervous. Don’t be, in fact, we do not have to talk about anything that you are not willing to explore, promise me that you’ll just relax and enjoy your time with me.”
“That sounds fair.”
“It does and you my dear are breathtaking!”
“Eish, stop with the compliments you’ll take all my bonga points!”
“You can never have enough bonga points.”
As we sat down to dinner, it dawned on me that he’d pulled the Mark charm on me again and I had fallen for it.
Love is bliss. It torments the one whom it engulfs leaving the other swirling in a sea of ignorance. How could he sit through a meal, compliment me, feast his eyes on me and yet not want to lose his breath over the sole reason for the ultimatum he gave me? If I asked that he let me be, would he do it?
These thoughts pitched tents in my mind throughout dinner. As he asked for dessert, this little stream of awareness struck me, Mark had not carried his phone. He’d gone for an hour without any calls, texts, reminders or simply reaching out for his phone.
Was this the kind of love I envisioned? If you come across love, tell your love that my love is looking for it.
nilichoandika 