There’s a specific kind of hunger pang, a thirst related to writing, I usually feel at the beginning of every new year.
Exactly one year ago, I came up with the idea for an anthology, and spent most of 2010 working on it.
This year, after spending a few months perusing an old half-draft of a novel, I’ve come to the conclusion that I will, indeed, finish this book. I am no longer casually going to open up my word document, mess around with a few edits, and close it, with no care to return.
I realized this just last week, right after I submitted the first twenty pages of the novel for a critique. Once I hit “send,” I started thinking about all the things that should have been included in it. I came up with a completely new beginning. For the first time recently, I started feeling obligated to, and responsible for, this story. The characters no longer seem like two-dimensional sketches on scrap paper. I now feel indebted to them. Until now, I’ve been snubbing them, short-changing them, pushing them to the back of my mind as they waft through the air, begging to be grounded in something concrete.
It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’ve spent most of this dreary, rainy and cold, first day of the new year, writing a new first page of my first novel.
Let’s hope that on the last day of this year, I’ll be writing the last page.
Anjali Enjeti 