A story been written during my sleepless nights, fairly accompanied by my SSRI drugs, a cup of frappucino and a chunk of optimism. Presenting you, my deadly trial on becoming the most random, engineering-major, truly amateur fictional writer, 'Dead Cat For Zoey'. Well, if Sophie Kinsella, Emily Cassel or Stephanie Meyer happen to read my book, please, don't flush mine into your bowl. That's too rude! Haha.
blacky dead cat

Sunday, April 11, 2010

I finish the novel, like seriously

It's 3.10 a.m. in local time, Monday - Miracle happens.

Finally, the three-month-old efforts have come to a stress-free ending. The book now is done. Do you know, how hard it is, just to put the word 'THE END' in one word document, after you have written thousands of words all this while?

I don't know what to write, I'm so excited and I'm all worn out now. It's tiring. I need a good sleep now.

This is the end. This is the proof, that I'm not just talking and dreaming. I put my words into action and the most important thing is, proving myself, not proving others. Now, I believe more in myself, the one that I have lost since January ago. This is my second debut in life, and I'm climbing again. I messed up last time, but this time, no more.

This is the end of all my griefs, my despairs and disappointments. The End. The answer for my silence for this past three months. (Sorry guys that I didn't reply your birthday wishes and greets on my Facebook wall. It took a lot of courage to do that.)

I'm not going down without a fight. Thank God, you're my only hope and strength.


Renzi Sasori said...

If there's anything else better to do than just reading random stuffs, I would definitely long to be the first to read about you, my friend. :p

Arin Zahari said...

no problem syaf! haha. Thanks for the endless supports!

Post a Comment