Whoops! I've fallen behind on the word count. Sometimes the day job can do that to you. I think I became a bit complacent when I realised how much I could write in half an hour if I just put my mind to it. And decided I had all the time in the world.
As I'm writing this, I've got a song blaring 'Shout' by Moving Pictures, to celebrate the last half hour of writing. I downloaded a Talking Alarm Clock and it uses the wizard from Microsoft Office. I set the timer for five minutes away and he appears and tells me to start writing. After 30 minutes, he appears again, this time with a song to celebrate. My personal best for half an hour of writing is now 1132 words.
I have now written the first turning point: the point where Nickie discovers that her diary can control the future.
The scene begins with a 'Groundhog Day' type rerun of the embarrassing conversation about flatulence with Craig. Nickie is aware that the scene is replaying but no matter what she tries to do, she cannot help but repeat her own words and actions.
This is how the scene ends:
I leaf through the pages hurriedly, finding my way back to January 5, the date of the first conversation. The page is blank. As if nothing ever happened that day. Yet all of the other pages are filled with prose and angst and the invocation of Craig. But January 5 is a blank page still waiting to be filled. I know that I first bumped into Craig last Tuesday.
I know that this blank page is a lie, and I remember writing the entry. But what if I accidently wrote the entry on the following week, and then the event repeated itself because that's what was written in my diary.
I drop my pen. No, not humanly, not physically possible. Surely me, Nickie Symons, could not have created the future just by writing it.
But there was only one way to find out...
And I start writing an entry for Wednesday January 13.
I wouldn't have long to wait to test my theory. 24 hours and I would know if my journal was the diary of the future or if I was just going mad.
This is a Good Book Thursday
22 hours ago