Woohoo!

To celebrate, I broke in my recently purchased crepe pan:

My reward for brunch. No, I didn’t eat both plates… one was for my wife.

Then I booted up the laptop, opened up Scrivener and cranked out 1,282 words on scene two.

These past two days of solid writing and getting past my fears of generating crap prose have been extraordinary for me. I think it’s validating my belief (and blog subtitle) that starting is always the hardest part. Once you start, something magical happens. You want to continue. This doesn’t mean things become easy. But they become easier. You gain a desire to see things through to some sort of finished state. You went through the effort of changing the oil and putting gas in the car, so drive it!

Of course this is all big talk right now. The past work week was relatively easy compared to more recent ones and I even took yesterday off as a ‘writing day’. Without many obstacles, almost anyone can move forward. I hope that a strong habit will be developed in this lull period that can carry me through the tougher ones. The truth will be revealed if you see a similar post from me in month.

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1.) After a few false starts, I closed my web browser and managed to keep it closed long enough to write a scene without distraction. No email, IM, games, reddit, news… nothing but Scrivener.

2.) I was actually able to save the self-judgement until after I finished typing out this scene. I never get that far. I always spend way too long going over the last sentence I just wrote and recreating it six different ways from Sunday. And then four hours later, I wonder why I only have two paragraphs of content. Content that…well, isn’t really all that great anyway.

So, just for giggles, here is the first draft of the first scene of the novel I’m working on.

Please don’t get me wrong. I’m not posting this for pity nor to seek any kind of validation. I post it because it’s a part of the writing journey and I made a decision to record that journey on this blog – warts and all (and some of these are bound to be the big, hairy ones).

If this accomplishes anything external to that, I hope it makes others feel better about their ‘shitty first drafts.’

My goal at this point is just to leave it alone until I finish the rest of the scenes. That’s going to be really tough, but once they’re all done, I’ll begin the revision process.

Without further ado:

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It wasn’t just hot. It was sweltering.

Lucas Maslow was used to it though. When you spend your day, and sometimes nights, working on ventilation and air conditioning systems, you always suffer until you can kick things into gear and get them working again.

The wrench slipped from Lucas’ sweaty hand resulting in a loud bang that echoed off the walls. As soon as he fixed the generator, the quiet room would soon revert to a noisy one.

“Watch it Lucas! You almost put me in a coma.”

Lucas looked down at Jake from atop the ladder and wiped his hand on his overalls.

“Sorry. Give me some of your chalk.”

Jake reached into a utility bag and pulled out a jar of white powder. He unscrewed the lid as Lucas stepped down from the ladder.

Lucas cupped his hands together and Jake shook some of the powder out.

Lucas rubbed his palms together and clapped off the excess dust. He reached down and picked up the wrench.

“I just gotta get this new motor in place and we should be on our way. What do you think, two hours?”

Jake put the jar back in the bag and pulled out a clipboard.

“I’m rounding up to three. It’s the middle of August and it’s hotter than my sister-in-law in a bikini.”

Lucas laughed and began to climb up the ladder, but something stopped him after the first step.

A rush of cooler air swept through the room and Jake and Lucas turned around to see a pair of security guards enter the room. Their brown collared shirts showed the sweat collecting underneath their armpits. The two were quite a sight. They both had to be barely over five-feet tall. One was as thin as a twig, but the other had a girth that almost matched his height.

“We’re just wrapping up,” Lucas said. “We should be out of your hair in a few minutes.” He turned back toward the ladder and started to climb again.

“Which one of you is Maslow?” the fat one asked.

Lucas began to tighten a bolt on the motor bracket again.

“I am,” he replied.

“Your presence is requested at the front desk,” the skinny one chimed in. He had a high pitched voice.

Lucas looked back at the guards who were still standing in the doorway as if they were guarding it against the escape of some animal on the loose. He looked down at Jake who looked back, raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders.

Was it Martin? That was always the first thought in his mind whenever he was pulled away from something at work. His son had been the cause of many sleepless nights and stressful days.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

The guards looked at each other quietly.

“Please, just come with us Mr. Maslow,” the fat one replied.

Lucas stepped down from the ladder and made his way toward the door. Jake began to follow him, but the skinny guard raised his palm.

“You can stay here and finish. We’re all burning up in here.”

Jake just nodded as Lucas handed him the wrench.

The fat guard stepped out of the electrical room and into the hallway, motioning for Lucas to follow. The skinny one fell in behind them and unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt as they headed up to the ground floor lobby.

“Raines here. We’re on our way,” he spoke into the radio as they stepped into an elevator.

“Copy that,” came the reply.

The elevator doors opened up to the first floor hallway and the guards struggled to keep pace with Lucas as he walked rapidly toward the lobby.

Lucas hoped Rosie had at least gotten the boy to the hospital quickly.

Even in the expansive lobby, it was hot. Not as hot as the sardine can he had been working in, but he could tell people were still seeking relief through at least a dozen different fans that had been placed throughout. Orange extension cords crisscrossed the shiny black tile as businesswomen in high heels struggled to avoid them.

Behind the security desk was another guard on the telephone. He was mindlessly flipping switches near an array of video monitors as he was spitting out a stream of “Yes sirs.”

Surrounding the desk were half a dozen other people. Four of them were uniformed police officers, idly chatting with each other. You could tell they hadn’t been there long because their clothes were relatively dry. A middle-aged man in a long brown coat with thin blond hair was standing nearby, concentrating on a tiny notepad.

The guard at the desk hung up the phone and turned around as soon he heard the squelch from Raines’ radio.

The blond man looked up and saw Lucas approaching with the guards.

“Lucas Maslow?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” Lucas replied. “Is everything okay? Is it Martin?”

Lucas realized he was fiddling with his wedding ring. A nervous habit he wasn’t sure where we developed. Why all the cops? If Martin was sick, he imagined his wife or sister-in-law would be on the phone with the front desk. They must be here for something else.

He noticed that three of the cops had spread out around him and the blond man nodded at the fourth, who then approached him slowly.

“Mr. Maslow, you’re being placed under arrest. Please come with us,” the blond man said.

Lucas stood still. He could feel beads of sweat beginning to run down his forehead and into his eyes, but he fought the urge to wipe them away.

“What?” was all he could manage to squeak out. He felt his hands being pulled away from each other and then placed together again, this time behind his back and with handcuffs to keep them in place.

“Mr. Maslow, let’s make this easy for both of us. Come quietly and we can discuss this further at the station.” The blond man looked toward the cop who had cuffed Lucas. “Officer Degan will see you safely back to the office.”

The blond man turned around and started to walk toward the lobby exit.

“Wait!” Lucas managed to yell. “What… What am I being charged with? Are you sure you have the right guy?”

The sweat begin to cloud his vision and sting his eyes, finally to the point where he tried to unsuccessfully wipe them on his shoulder.

The blond man turned around and walked back toward Lucas. He stood in front of him, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small handkerchief.

“We always get the right guy,” the man spoke as he wiped the sweat from Lucas’ face. “You’re under arrest for the embezzlement of five hundred thousand dollars” He took the cloth, shoved it into Lucas’ front shirt pocket and proceeded to walk away.

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He writes science fiction? That’s what I want to write.

His last book delved into alternate history? It’s a favorite sub-genre of mine.

At this point I was sold and plopped down $180.

Process:

Registration is simple and I like that fact that you can directly contact the director running the whole show via phone or e-mail. You’re not just offered some generic contact form or email address. In fact, as soon as I registered, I received an email directly from him the following day stating that Joe hadn’t taught for them in awhile, so he was being actively hunted down. Not but a day later, I heard from Joe directly and the lessons began.

They have a decent FAQ on the site that explains how the whole thing works, but I want to iterate that these classes are more like correspondence courses. There’s no virtual classroom or web-based blackboard. You don’t interact with other students and exchange critiques (I’m assuming this even though I’m pretty sure I was the only active student on this particular course). Lessons are crafted by the instructor and emailed weekly. You’re given homework and sometimes you turn it in, sometimes you don’t. The thing I really liked is whenever I needed feedback or advice, Joe was there to give it. He does what, in my opinion, most good teachers do — answers your questions with other questions. Questions you never thought of which cause you to see things in a new light.

Subject Matter:

The course took place over six weeks and there were six lessons, one for each week. A pre-lesson was to get me thinking about my novel and to generate a three sentence description. I think I can safely summarize the rest of the course material here without jeopardizing it’s value (hint: there are no earth shattering secrets):

• Lesson 1: Main Character Sketches and Plot Expansion.
• Lesson 2: Scenes, Settings and Research
• Lesson 3: Story Structure
• Lesson 4: More on Scenes
• Lesson 5: Avoid the Sagging Middle and Alternate Story Structure
• Lesson 6: Endings and Putting it All Together

Effect and Value:

So what did I gain from all of this? Well, so far I have amassed a bevy of scenes, character sketches and research ideas in Scrivener. I have a better idea of what makes a story interesting. I also learned the value of deadlines! I doubt I would have achieved even this measly amount of work without them. They forced me to work through headaches and stinging eyes and bouts of frustration to at least generate something. Every night I spent shifting around virtual index cards, creating scenes and instantly deleting them… those were nights that I learned more about this writing thing.

Would I say that I made full use of the material? No way. But working through it and failing quite often has given me experience. Living in the reality that we do and understanding that doing great things requires hard work and many mistakes, I don’t know that I could have asked for much more. It wasn’t the end-all-be-all of my writing education but I think it was well worth the investment in money and time, helping me to understand what it means to seriously write fiction.

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On the novel writing front, my time has been divided between adding some more scenes, characters and research items. I’ve written parts of a scene here and there. I’ve also begun reading Characters, Emotion & Viewpoint by Nancy Kress. I’m only a couple chapters in, but already the exercises have been useful in helping me better develop my characters.

I will try to get another contest going soon and post more about my WriterCollege.com experience as that wraps up. In the meantime, I want to say “Thanks” for sticking with me.

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8.) Play it on the screen in your head – just close your eyes and watch the scene unfold. Keep rewinding and playing it again. It begins to flesh itself out this way.

9.) Write a scribble version – In tandem with tip #8, write briefly what you see. Just quick notes, nothing too distracting from the visualization process.

Once I went through this, I found writing a scene became so much easier. I think this comes naturally with writers who have been at this for awhile and they’re able to do most of it in their head as they write. Not me. I spend too much time looking for the right words and sentence structure that I get lost and forget where I’m going. Replaying the scene in my head several times and jotting down quick notes takes the outlining step a bit further and provides some structure for me to write from. Then, and only then, do I allow myself to focus on the best way I can get those thoughts and actions across.

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I’d like to cover a couple of items that have, so far, given me the most difficulty in this adventure.

Knowing when to stick with your outline and knowing when to adjust it. 

My last lesson involved breaking up my novel into the following sequence of events.

Novel Structure

The idea is that each section should contain roughly 25% of your story and the plot points provide the major turning points between them. I was having a difficult time coming up with a satisfying sequence and after brooding over my initial synopsis, I found part of my problem. I discovered I was actually more sympathetic toward my initial antagonist (Oscar) than my protagonist (Diego), and so I found myself driven to tell more of his side of the story. That’s when I completely flipped things over and made him the focus. The light bulb finally came to life and the ideas just poured forth.

I also experienced an interesting side effect. I thought this would relegate Diego to being an almost cookie-cutter character, but through exploring Oscar’s story line, I found a story line that was even better for him. For some reason, Diego’s struggle became more clear as I focused on Oscar’s.

My next difficulty:

Scene generation.

According to Joe, the typical novel has anywhere from 40 to 60 scenes (though a quick Google search shows this number to be all over map, depending on the source).

My problem?

I have a grand total of 25 scenes, and the majority of those are in the Set-Up phase.

Google tells me that I’m in the minority as most of the writers I’ve researched have the opposite problem. They’ve gone above and beyond and are forced to bring out the shears. I’m feel that all of the scenes I’ve come up with have told the core of my story and anything else, well, would just be fluff and the reader would wonder why it was there.

So here’s where I ask you wonderful writer folks out there… Do you ever have this problem? Have you solved it?

Once again, thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts and I hope they’ve been useful to you somehow.

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Yeah, it’s painful at first, but that’s the point. You can’t pop a bubble without making a mess. It’s up to you to clean it up right away or let it fester. Humility is being honest with yourself and the world, and most of the time, it’s the only way to get better at something. You can’t improve if you think you’re perfect.

So here were my thoughts after submitting my homework for assignments #1 (character sketches) and #2 (plot paragraph):

Man, this is an amazing idea. I think I’ve really got something here. Maybe change one or two things, but it’s near flawless and I’m ready for the next step comeonlet’swritethisthingyeahwoohoo!

After receiving feedback from Joe:

Oh…well…yeah. I guess I didn’t really answer that question right.

Hmmm…nope, didn’t even think of that angle and how it may change the entire story.

Okay, sure, I can see how that could be inconsistent.

Ouch.

After a day of letting the effrontery soak in, I began to revise those assignments based on his suggestions and without a doubt, my characters and story have become stronger for it. The biggest problem I had was on my character sketches – giving  them a story. I described my characters, but everything was so hollow. Just generic and vague ideas of who they were. That’s okay at first, but not enough to provide a story – conflict and resolution, growth. Joe pointed this out and made me really start to think about them more. I put myself in various scenes with these characters and just observed them… their actions, their thoughts, motivations. This helped me tremendously. I began to see them as human beings, not just flat writing on a piece of paper.

A few minutes after receiving the feedback, I also received assignments #3, #4 and #5. It was now time to spend the week coming up with scenes, locations and research topics. I was pumped to do this. Then reality gave me a hard shove and I had to pull off a couple of 16-hour days due to some major issues happening at work (the glory of working in IT). That being said, come Saturday, I was ready to get down and dirty. I spent a few hours yesterday just cranking out ideas on those three topics. This has been one of the most pleasant parts in the process for me – no editing or thinking about what makes sense/doesn’t make sense. Just letting the ideas flow, capturing them and moving on.

One of the questions I’m wrestling with right now is time period. I’ve decided on using a fictional universe not too different from our own, but I want to mirror a certain period of time to give it some consistency. It’s amazing how much setting can change a piece – classical, medieval, baroque, modern… and there are of course subsections of those. Therefore, that will be a major topic for me to look into. Just drawing up a list gets me really excited to begin the research process. Here’s my list in it’s current state:

Love the cork board in Scrivener.

I want to throw out a couple of footnotes here:

• I met my teacher, Joe Nassise, at a book signing on Friday night at the excellent Mysterious Galaxy bookstore in Redondo Beach, CA. Joe is one of the nicest, most genuine people I’ve ever met and he was so willing to share his knowledge and experience. If you’re looking for someone to guide you through the writing process, I can’t recommend him enough. An interesting factoid on his method – he never writes multiple drafts. As I go through these assignments, I can see why. You’ve built a solid foundation up front, so by the time it comes to writing, you’re free to focus on the prose – the structure is there and the walls are up, so go crazy with the painting and furniture!
• I love Scrivener. I still use Google Docs for a variety of things, but Scrivener is such a wonderful tool for writers. Check out the demo if you haven’t already. In fact, I think a Scrivener license will be a prize option for our next fiction contest.

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This week, the assignments are two-fold:

• Turn those three sentences into a paragraph, starting with a three-act structure and then fuse in a three-disaster structure for transition points. So far, this is pretty basic stuff you can find all over the web and in various books on writing fiction.
• Generate character sketches for your protagonist and antagonist. I don’t know why, but I’ve always wanted to spend more time on plot than characters. But when I sat back and thought about stories I’ve really taken a liking to, memorable characters have always been key. This has been a sort of epiphany for me over the past few months and so I’ve come to the realization that developing characters is even more important for me then generating plot. The hope, of course,  is to have both of them be amazing.

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After a crazy couple of weeks at my day job and many hours spent finishing the musical score/audio engineering efforts for Electro-Cute, I’m back! I tried to keep things active in the meantime with your participation in the flash fiction contest. I’m very happy with the result, so expect more of that sort of thing in the future.

Do you remember that little schedule I posted about a month ago? Well, the early dates have come and gone, but I have not forgotten the purpose. I’m merely sliding the scale. I got ahead of myself and didn’t take into account existing obligations. Obligations which have now been fulfilled, so I’m free to move on.

In fact, I’m taking this so seriously now that I put down one hundred and eighty George Washingtons (well, virtual ones) on an online correspondence course – Jump-Start your Novel. It’s a six-week course taught by Joe Nassise and offered through WritersCollege.com. It will start with character sketches and plotting and end with a roadmap from which to begin the writing process.

Will this get me motivated to actually finish a novel? I hope so. If I’m putting money into it, I want to make sure it’s well spent! I’ll of course keep you guys updated on the process throughout.

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Well, that was arrogant of me. It hit me harder than I thought, but I guess that just means writing a novel is something I really want to succeed at.

I’ll reply to each and every one of your comments at some point today, but wanted to make sure I got this “Thank You” sent out.

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I’ve been staring at my novel outline for the past week, typing away and adding/correcting things, only to erase them before I shut down for the rest of the night.

I haven’t had any problems writing in general as I still crank out a few pages a day with my morning writing and exercises. But those things have nothing to do with my novel. When I sit down and try to work on The Novel, not only do I get absolutely nowhere, but I have actually found myself regressing. What I thought was originally a brilliant idea has been poked full of so many holes, it’s sinking before I even set sail. I’ve spent countless hours reading about different ways to plot and create characters and world building and three act structures and you-name-it. I feel like it’s all been in vain because I haven’t produced anything but dead ends – like I’ve been walled in with stone and a pile of Nerf pickaxes.

Any suggestions? For those who have written a novel, did you experience this on the first time out? How did you get past it? Should I dump my original idea and start fresh? Should I take a course on writing novels so I have a little more hand holding? I’ve read a lot of what you guys have written and am always in awe of what you’ve accomplished.

I think I need a major paradigm shift.

As always, thanks for your help and putting up with the occasional bitching and moaning.

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And you’ve probably also noticed I was having some trouble getting my story going. I spent an hour or so yesterday trying to figure out where things are headed. Every time I had an idea, that sassy little devil popped up on my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

“You’re an idiot. That makes no sense and here’s why.”

I tried to ignore him based on the fact he’s an annoying little bastard, but in the end, I lost. The thought that all of my ideas made no sense, well… made sense.

Another issue crept up when my wife and I played a round of Story Cubes. In my opinion, these things are brilliant and I can’t recommend them enough to anyone who enjoys being creative (chances are, if you’re reading this blog, you’re one of those people). It’s essentially a set of dice with different images on each side. The idea is to use them as story prompts and combine them in all sorts of fun ways. As I said, they’re brilliant.

Too brilliant.

We created a story from these and I couldn’t get it out of my head the rest of the evening. I kept thinking of ideas for that instead of my novel. So my outline withered away as I banged out 1000 words on alien paratroopers and shadow creatures.

Now that I’ve gotten it out of my system, it’s time put it aside for another day and get back to work. I’ll be spending a couple of hours this evening focusing on the outline and if I ‘finish’ it tonight, fantastic. If not, I’ll work every evening until I do.

No more excuses. No more dice with funny little pictures. Just onward and upward.

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This was my mindset for the first half-hour that I dedicated to writing my novel this morning. It doesn’t feel right, I thought. I’ve spent thirty minutes trying to write this scene and I have a total of 300 words that I’m not very happy with. They seem really trite and I don’t know if they add to the story. In reality, what I have on the page seems like utter nonsense.

A part of me was screaming out, “Just write! Grab a roll of duct tape, tear off a piece and stick it over the mouth of your internal editor! Then tie him up and throw him in the closet! We can pull him out when he’s needed.”

I’m not a very nice guy, I thought to myself… That just seems messed up.

But then something interesting happened. I pulled myself out of the scene I was writing and looked at my outline again. Good ideas of where to take other parts of the story started to pop in my head. Maybe the reason I was having a hard time writing out that scene is because in the grand scheme of things, it was utter nonsense. It didn’t belong. It wasn’t a part of this story.

Maybe I would have figured this out sooner, if instead of delving straight into my novel, I would have performed my morning writing ritual and cleared out whatever thoughts I had in my head. I’ll try that tomorrow.

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So, I decided to write the first chapter, hoping it would spark some new insights on the story direction. That it did and now I have some good ideas for a few more chapters. I also put down 1700 words yesterday. That’s a new “single day” record for me, so I’m pretty ecstatic about that.

But all of this work the past couple of days brought me to a sober realization — I’m going to have a rough time sticking to the hard schedule I posted earlier. I just can’t seem to write in such a linear fashion. Also, based on the experiences of previous commenters, my dates are looking more and more unrealistic.  But, I’m okay with these things. The schedule is serving its primary purpose at this point. It’s a motivator. I’ve never been more excited to buckle down and crank out letters and words and sentences and so on!

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What really drove that point home was a post on Amy Keeley’s blog, offering a review of a book she’d picked up as part of her reading group on Goodreads. Though she didn’t use up much space to vent about the book, she did link to another reader, who shared her opinions on the poor quality of the style, structure and plot development. I too cringed at the examples of over-the-top gooey sentimentality, yet it’s clear loads of people do go in for this kind of thing: what to some readers is cliche-riddled, overly dramatic, intentionally dense writing, is to others brilliant, unique and captivating.

The reasons for reading are as numerous as readers themselves. Many want to be entertained, and what counts as entertainment to some could be thought of as boring, trite or silly to others. Some want to be educated, informed, enlightened, challenged or dictated to, while others simply want to lose themselves in character and story. The key is not to be all things to all readers, but to understand that segment of the population the book would appeal to and go after it. But, whereas some would recommend writing to a specific target audience, keeping the marketability of your book in mind at all times, I’d say that the focus should be on the writing itself. Because no matter how brilliant some people think your writing is, there will be just as many other folks who haven’t the stomach for it. If you love what you’re doing and work at your craft, you’re bound to find readers, who are as passionate for what you do as you are about doing it.

Using some of the wonderful self-editing hints and tips mentioned in one of my earlier posts, I’ve actually become very excited about the editing process, as the prose is now coming across as tighter and more concise. Once unnecessary words and phrasing have been thrown out, a better quality of writing, with more finely-tuned images and less fluff takes their place. Section one will be done by the end of this month, and after my readers have given me their comments, I hope to post a scene or two here, just to see if I can get any feedback from a wholly different (and indifferent) audience.

I’m feeling a little like that kid these days. How many edits does it take until I reach my Tootsie Roll center? Can I just chomp down on the blasted thing and be done with it already? Where’s my creamy filling? My molten chocolate gushing forth from the flourless cake? If only the payoff would present itself so clearly and satisfyingly when rewriting a novel as it does when biting into a favorite dessert treat.

The spiffy new printer unpacked and set up (wirelessly…oh yes), I was planning on printing off section one this evening. For some reason, I tend to spot errors, omissions and awkward phrasing easier when reading from a piece of paper than when I read on screen. But, then I found this blog by Aimee Salter and read through each of her 10 entries on self-editing. There’s some wonderful advice there with good examples, clearly presented in a very digestable format. As so much of what she preaches is gleaned from a book called Techniques of the Selling Writer, I even ordered myself a copy to see what else Mr. Dwight V. Swain has to say on the subject.

Ms. Salter’s tips led me to reread, yet again (repetitive redundancy fully intended), so as to wipe out as many of the “Seek & Destroy” words and phrases as possible and clean the style up a bit more. Once this new, improved, slicker version is snuggled nice and cozy in my Scrivener project, I’ll rev up the printer and give it one last read before sending this first part off for friends to critique. I know it will never be perfect; it won’t quite reach that level of eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-the-head bliss I get from a gorgeous salted caramel drizzle on top of a rich New York cheesecake. But maybe it’ll be good enough some day to bring enjoyment to a reader or two.

But first, to make sure I follow the VBA rules:

• Thank the person who gave you this award. That’s common courtesy.
•  Include a link to their blog. That’s also common courtesy — if you can figure out how to do it.
•  Next, select 15 blogs/bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly. ( I would add, pick blogs or bloggers that are excellent!)
•  Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award — you might include a link to this site.
•  Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.

OK, one and two taken care of – Thanks again Amy! The nominations will be forthcoming in the next week. I have some in mind, but will have to fish through to make sure I don’t miss anyone. And, the 7 things about myself:

1. I have a very difficult time talking about myself, being rather introverted by nature. I’m much happier to sit back and listen to others, which makes this blogging/tweeting thing pretty tough for me.
2. I’m only living in New York City for the music. If I could get the quality of live music I have here while living in the wilds further upstate, I’d bolt for the greener landscapes and concrete-free environments in a heartbeat.
3. My new addiction is swimming – today I was in the pool while swim club kids were warming up for a meet. Though I had my own lane, the chop was insane from the hundreds of skinny arms windmilling through the air, sending up lava-like eruptions of pool water. At times I felt as if I were surrounded by a piranha feeding frenzy.
4. I have 3 cats…yea, I’m one of those single women of a certain age who lives alone and has cats. There, I said it! But they are really adorable and are wonderful company.
5. How many more of these do I have? Three?! OK, since graduating college in 1991, I have had 15 different “permanent” addresses. That number doesn’t even include the places I called home for six months or less, of which there were three or four.
6. I wish more than anything that I could sing well. I would much rather be a musician than a writer, but I have no musical skills.
7. I wrote a book, illustrated and bound it too, back when I was in the 3rd grade. It won some sort of a contest, but when it came time for me to attend the young writers’ workshop, I was sick and couldn’t make it. I still blame that nasty cold on my not pursuing a writing career for so many years since.

So, the revamped ROW80 goals:

• Discontinuing the drabbles on 100 Words. It’s a fun little exercise, and one that doesn’t take up too much time, but I’m letting it become a distraction from more important writing
• Admittedly, the task of keeping up with reading/writing blog entries, tweeting and tweet reading, doing writing exercises from the Gotham Writers Workshop book, perusing my many other books on the craft and business of writing – all while trying to edit – is tough. Not sure how to handle this yet. I may have to come up with a Monday-Sunday schedule, and be sure to incorporate time for exercise and other pursuits. It may mean that I’m not writing every day as I’d like to, but my conviction that I can achieve these superhuman feats is starting to wane.
• I’m pushing back my deadline for completing the 2nd draft of section I to the end of February, though this will mean that the 2nd draft will be as sparkling as I can get it. March will be a wash, as I’ll be celebrating a birthday in the first week and then, once the reality of my age sinks in, I’ll skitter off somewhere balmy in an effort to escape that reality. Section I will be sent off to readers before the birthday and Section II 2nd draft edits will start immediately thereafter.

That’s the most I’ve talked about myself in years. I think I need some quiet time now.

Why, the elevator pitch, of course! The agent query letter, which should never exceed four paragraphs (many recommend three, no more!). And, even if a writer is lucky enough to pass this hurdle and find a publisher, the means of attracting readers in the bookstore are just as terse – I like the German word better: knapp (where the initial “k” is pronounced cleanly, the crack before the pop of the final “p”) – it even sounds terse. I’ve never bought a book because of the synopsis on the jacket, but usually despite it. So often it comes off sounding like a tabloid headline or even worse. From the back of The Time Traveler’s Wife, one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read: “Henry and Claire’s passionate affair endures across a sea of time and captures them in an impossibly romantic trap that tests the strength of fate and basks in the bonds of love.” Yuck! It’s a wonder I got past that drivel to get the book as far as the checkout line! Writing a similarly romantic story, I worry about boiling the plot and characters down to attention grabbing pitches or headlines. It seems unfair that the fate of an entire book, 150,000 some odd words, should rest on the strength of the blurb.

Alasan aku menuliskan judul tersebut berangkat dari sebuah cerita nyata yang aku alami sendiri ketika aku masih menjadi seorang karyawan di sebuah bimbel nasional di kota Surabaya.

My first job after grad school was in publishing. Working in the CEOs office, we would see boxloads of books delivered from our warehouse every week. Each and every book the company put out would pass my desk. Not having to pay for them, I would take home paperbacks by the armful, as well as the odd, coveted hardcover. There was no need to discern the good from the bad. They all ended up in my shelves until they were read and deemed keepers or put in the stack to donate to the local library.

While struggling through a work that didn’t really appeal to me one day, the realization struck that this was not required reading. I had no vested interest in this book. I took great joy in chucking the thing (it was a paperback) across the room, as I had wanted to do with some many other books that had been required reading in school. That’s when I adopted the 50-page rule.

Until today, I hadn’t known that this was an approach publicized by the lovely Nancy Pearl. Her Rule of 50 recommends that you give a book 50 pages to draw you in and, if it hasn’t, set it aside (or, in my case, chuck it across the room – paperbacks only). Additional guidelines apply to readers over 50 years old, giving them some wiggle room if they don’t want to go for the full 50. I wouldn’t argue with a woman, who’s had an action figure made in her likeness.

If a book is 350 pages or longer, I’ll often give it a bit more than 50 pages to engage me. I found this last night, starting at the bottom of page 53 of Chad Harbach’s The Art of Fielding:

“He’d turned twenty-five, the Age of Unfolding, and it was time to write a novel, the way his hero had. He moved to a cheap apartment in Chicago and set to work, but even as the pages accumulated, despair set in. It was easy enough to write a sentence, but if you were going to create a work of art, the way Melville had, each sentence needed to fit perfectly with the one that preceded it, and the unwritten one that would follow. And each of those sentences needed to square with the ones on either side, so that three became five and five became seven, seven became nine, and whichever sentence he was writing became the slender fulcrum on which the whole precarious edifice depended. That sentence could contain anything, anything, and so it promised the kind of absolute freedom that, to Affenlight’s mind, belonged to the artist and the artist alone. And yet that sentence was also beholden to the book’s very first one, and its last unwritten one, and every sentence in between. Every phrase, every word, exhausted him.”

This passage helped keep me reading past the 50-odd page rule (Harbach’s book is just over 500 pages), but it’s wreaking havoc with my determination to continue editing my work of art.

The Low Anthem produces such a beautiful sound. I first heard of them when they opened for Josh Ritter a few years ago. Unfortunately, I missed all but one or two songs of their set at that show in Tarrytown, NY. I also missed them that summer at the Newport Folk festival. Finally catching them in Brooklyn at the Bell House that winter, they landed squarely in the “must see whenever possible” category. Their slow numbers make the goose-flesh pop on my arms, while their louder tunes are great for singing along at high volumes during their shows. I sing along at home, trying to harmonize even. But that sort of thing is best left to the experts.

The 2nd draft work is slow and laborious. I’ve read or skimmed various books on the subject of fiction writing, and they all refer to a dual personality necessary in making the jump from the free-flowing, almost hedonistic pursuit of the 1st draft to the disciplined approach required to knock out the detritus during the 2nd draft. My friend found so many unnecessary words creeping into my style, even after I’d read the thing over three or more times and had been sure I’d eliminated every stray “just” or “simply” or other superfluous adverb. But they were in there, and they’re still taunting me as I flip from page to page and see them scratched out with blue pen. I must remember to get my friend some new pens before I send her parts two and three.

Something else though that I’m learning is that I don’t need to accept all the suggested changes to my text. I’d read through a paragraph, the way I had originally written it, and then again as my friend suggested. Often I liked the sound of my sentences better, but the initial instinct was to make the change without question. I’m so close to the story, characters and wording that I feel the outside angle must be more insightful. I love the people I created, and therefore I don’t think I can achieve enough of a separation from them anymore to recognize when what they’re saying or doing is maybe a little too strident or effusive. Often, though, the best solution I find is to neither leave the text as it was in the original nor to simply rewrite as suggested by my friend. Her edits point me to the problem areas, but many times I discover a better way to shape the scene or conversation than either of us had thought of before.

The other day I began reading Chad Harbach’s The Art of Fielding. So far, it’s a somewhat engaging story. After the tremendous press the author, the book and its publisher received, I was expecting to be blown away from word one. At this point, it’s occupying a middle ground, somewhere between the awful disappointment endured when reading Mr. Peanut by Adam Ross and the sheer beauty of To Be Sung Underwater by Tom McNeal. I was hoping for another experience akin to the one Mr. McNeal provided, which I could hold up as an example of the effect a book can have on a reader and why I want to write in the first place. If The Art of Fielding doesn’t come through, I’ll have to skim the living room shelves and hope to find a gem there that will fit the bill.

The other goal for the holidays is to start working on the 2nd draft of the (as yet untitled) novel. My wonderful friend Amanda was kind enough to have a read through section one, which spanned a good 115 pages, and give me her suggestions on how to cut back on the sometimes overly and unnecessarily wordy style I tend to favor…starting a blog was, I had hoped, a good way to exercise (or possibly exorcise) myself out of this habit and learn to utilize more economy in the way I express myself in writing. But see…even that last sentence could have been much simpler. I’m just a wordy girl. The redrafting also means that I need to start reading more, to remind myself of how good writers approach tough passages, dialogue etc., and to get back to working my way through The Gotham Writers’ Workshop – Writing Fiction. I’m relatively new to books about fiction writing, I haven’t taken any writing classes since high school and have, to put it bluntly, a very dubious attitude towards teaching/learning writing. I don’t actually believe that it’s a skill that can be learned, but that it’s more of an innate sensibility. Some people have it, some don’t. Much like learning a foreign language – some people pick up on the nuances with ease, while others can spend years studying and living abroad and never master a non-native language beyond the most rudimentary of exchanges. But I do think that, for people who are inclined to such things, the most important approach is to practice regularly, to listen, to take note of the words and sounds and their meaning and effect on a listener/reader and use these impressions to improve the way we express ourselves. That’s what I’m hoping to gain from the writing guides that are waiting for me on my shelves.

And, if there’s any time left after listening, reading and writing, I plan on making myself a pair of kick-ass stripey socks with this gorgeous yarn I bought over Thanksgiving up in Saratoga Springs. Hooray socks!

Marcia terbangun pukul 5 pagi oleh ringtone ponselnya. Malik menelepon sesuai janjinya. Buat ngebangunin Marcia.

“ Pagi, Hon…”, sapa Malik.

“ Pagi…”, sahut Marcia masih mengantuk gara-gara conference call Junika tadi malam.

“ Udah jam 5 nich..nggak siap-siap ? Katanya ada rapat.”

“ Masih ngantuk…”

“ Emang kamu bobo jam berapa ?”

“ Jam 11 sich..tapi tadi malam si Agistha tu sms jam 12 malem, udah gitu Junika pake conference call segala jam setengah 1. Padahal aku udah mau molor aja.”

“ Emang Agis kenapa sms malem-malem ?”

“ Dia mau merit ntar Agustus.”

“ Wah, kita keduluan dia dong ya.”

“ Iya, kita kan Desember ya, Hon.”

“ Si Agis udah pengumuman tuh..kamu nggak sekalian ?”

“ Ntar aja lah. Kita aja belum dapat gedung, Hon. Belum ngapa-ngapain. Ntar aja lah.”

“ Ya udah terserah kamu dech. Udah sadar kan nich ? Ayo mandi sana.”

“ Iya. Makasih ya udah bangunin. Luv u..”

“ Luv u too..bye…”

“ Bye.”

Setelah itu Marcia bangkit, mengambil handuk, dan menuju dapur untuk mengambil jus.

“ Ampun..masih ngantuk…sialan si Junika.”, omelnya. Setelah menghabiskan jus nya, ia pun menuju kamar mandi untuk mandi.

Sekitar 15 menit kemudian, Marcia sudah selesai. Ia pun berdiri di depan lemari dan bingung menentukan akan pakai baju apa hari ini. Mengingat ia sedang agak bete, jadi ga punya mood buat nge-mix n match baju, ia pun memutuskan memakai celana dengan atasan blazer. Setelah itu ia menyiapkan berkas-berkas rapat hari itu, mengambil sebutir apel di kulkas, kemudian menaiki mobilnya menuju kantor.

Aproshia

Setelah selesai mandi, ia menuju dapur membuat omlet untuk sarapannya pagi ini. Sambil menunggu omlet itu matang, ia mengambil segelas susu dari kulkas dan menuangkannya ke gelas. Orang di rumah belum semuanya bangun. Baru Ibunya saja yang tampak sedang menyapu lantai.

“ Sudah bangun, Bu ?”, tanyanya.

“ Ya sudahlah. Kan jam 7 nanti adekmu sekolah. Kamu bikin sarapan apa ?”, jawab Ibunya.

“ Omlet aja Bu. Habis ini mau nyiap-nyiapin buat ngantor.”

“ Nanti sekalian antar Gama ya.”

“ Rencananya malah Cacha mau minta anter Gama aja, nanti dijemput. Soalnya Cacha pulangnya kan sore, Bu.”

“ Yo wis, maem sana. Udah mateng tu omlet nya kayaknya.”

Aproshia menaruh omlet itu di piring dan membawanya ke meja makan. Pelan-pelan dimakannya omlet tersebut. Tak lama kemudian, Gama sudah bangun.

“ Cepetan mandi. Ntar anterin aku ya.”, ucapnya.

“ Iya.”, sahut Gama sambil menguap. “ Masih ngantuk nich.”

“ Udah pagi masih ngantuk. Cepetan.”

“ Iya, iya. Galak amat sich.”

Sekitar setengah jam kemudian Gama sudah siap. Aproshia pun sudah menunggu di depan pintu. Ia bekerja pada sebuah LSM Internasional sebagai Programme Coordinator, yang pada kenyataannya bekerja lebih seperti seksi sibuk. Karena itulah ia selalu pulang jam 5 sore, bahkan tidak sempat untuk sekedar bertemu dengan Agistha walaupun satu kota.

Sesampainya di kantor, ia langsung menuju mejanya. Setumpuk berkas sudah ada di sana. Aproshia pun menyalakan komputer dan yahoo messenger nya.

“ Morning, Shia.”, ucap Mr. Jones, bosnya.

“ Morning, Sir.”, sahutnya. Bosnya itu susah sekali menyebut nama lengkapnya, Aproshia, dan juga bermasalah dengan mengucap Cacha, nama panggilannya, akhirnya memilih memanggil dengan 2 kata terakhir dari namanya, Shia.

“ Have you finished the proposal for our activity at the end of next month ?”

“ I just need to fix a little bit and it will ready, Sir.”

“ OK. If you’ve done it, take it to my office.”

“ OK.”

“ Terima kasih, ya, Shia.”

“ Sama-sama, Pak.”

“ Bagaimana cara bicaranya dalam Javanese ?”

“ Matur nuwun.”

“ Oh, OK. Matur nuwun, Shia.”

“ Sami-sami.”

Aproshia  suka tersenyum sendiri kalau mendengar bosnya itu berusaha berbahasa Indonesia. Karena Mr. Jones memang selalu tertarik untuk belajar bahasa apa saja. Apalagi saat ia mendengar bahasa Jawa, ia langsung minta diajari dan jadi hobi sekali mengunjungi Keraton.

Mayla

Setelah interupsi Agistha jam 3 pagi, tepat pukul 7, Mayla terbangun. Ia pun bangkit dari tempat tidur dan mengambil air minum. Sambil menghilangkan rasa ngantuknya yang masih tersisa, ia pun mengambil sebutir apel di kulkas dan mulai memakannya.

“ Udah bangun, Cin ?”, tanya Andra.

“ He eh. Sudah nggak bisa bobo lagi.”, jawab Mayla. “ Kamu koq sudah bangun ?”

“ Ga bisa bobo lagi aja. Tadi malam ada sms ya ?”

“ Iya tu si Agis. Dia mau merit ntar Agustus.”

“ Kamu sudah wisuda kan tuh ?”

“ Wisuda ku kan Februari, Sayang.”

“ Trus kamu langsung pulang ?”

“ Ya nggak lah. Kalau bisa mau kerja dulu di sini.”

“ Kirain disuruh langsung pulang sama Mamamu.”

“ Mau mendulang dolar dulu he he he.”

Andra mencubit pipi Mayla dengan gemas. Sudah 1 tahun lebih, Mayla pacaran dengan Andra. Mereka kebetulan bertemu di acara yang diadakan mahasiswa Indonesia yang ada di Brisbane. Tidak seperti Mayla yang hanya tinggal menunggu wisuda S2nya, Andra masih mengerjakan tugas akhir untuk S1 nya. Walaupun usia Mayla lebih tua 3 tahun dari Andra, tetapi hubungan mereka tetap berjalan lancar, dan disetujui oleh keluarga masing-masing. Yang sempat memandang pesimis hubungan mereka di antara teman-teman Mayla adalah Julia. Maklum saja, menurutnya, kalau mencari pasangan hidup itu harus orang yang bisa “ngemong”, dalam artian lebih tua dari kita. Tapi Mayla membantah argumen Julia dengan mengatakan kalau usia tidak menjamin kedewasaan seseorang, dan ia menemukannya dalam diri Andra. Sebaliknya, Agistha justru sangat mendukung Mayla. Agistha lah yang pertama kali dimintai pendapat oleh Mayla saat ia baru tahap pdkt dengan Andra dulu.

“ Ngapain kamu bengong, Cin ?”, tanya Andra sambil membelai rambutnya.

“ Nggak papa. Bingung aja ntar buat ke acaranya Agis.”, jawabnya.

“ Masih lama ini kan..Oya hari ini kamu kerja nggak ?”

“ Ntar shift 2. Jam middle.”

“ Rame tuh. Ntar aku anter aja ya.”

“ Nggak usahlah. Aku lagi pengen jalan kaki. Kan dekat.”

“ Ya udah pulangnya aja aku jemput.”

“ Jangan sering-sering pake motornya loh, Cin. Bensinnya kan mahal.”

“ Kan kamu yang isi he he he.”

“ Hu……”, Mayla mencubit Andra dengan gemas yang dibalas ciuman ringan cowok itu di dahinya.

Junika

Pukul 7, Junika sampai di kosnya. Sambil menahan kantuk yang luar biasa, ia menaiki tangga rumah kos itu menuju kamarnya. Tampak beberapa orang sedang bersiap-siap, baik untuk kuliah ataupun pergi kerja. Junika satu-satunya penghuni yang baru pulang kerja.

“ Baru dateng atau mau pergi lo ?”, tanya Miea, penghuni kamar sebelah.

“ Ya baru pulang lah. Lo nggak liat tampang gue kucel, ngantuk gini ?”, sahut Junika.

“ Iya juga. Ya udah tidur sono.”

Setelah masuk dan mengunci pintu, Junika melemparkan tas dan sepatunya sembarangan kemudian menghempaskan badan di atas springbed nya. “ Anjrit..gue ngantuk banget.”, batinnya. Dengan malas ia bangkit untuk ganti baju kemudian menuju kamar mandi untuk cuci muka dan sikat gigi. “ Ntar siang aja dech mandinya.”, gumamnya.

Pukul 1 siang, Junika terbangun karena dering alarm ponselnya. Agak terkejut, ia meraih ponsel dan melihat jam. Setelah berperang sedikit dengan rasa kantuknya, ia memutuskan untuk bangun. Perutnya keroncongan.

“ Gila…laper..pantesan. Udah jam 1.” Baru saja ia memutuskan untuk mandi, ponselnya sudah berbunyi lagi. Ternyata sms dari Julia.

Lagi kerja ga jeung?temenin belanja bulanan yuk di carrefour.

Kebetulan nih, batin Junika. Segera dibalasnya sms itu.

Ga,malah baru pulang jam 7 td.OK.tpi bentar ya,gw mandi dl.

Sekitar 1 menit kemudian balasan Julia datang.

Yawda.Gw jmpt 15mnt lgi yah buw.c u…

Setelah itu Junika bergegas mandi dan bersiap-siap. Kurang-lebih setengah jam kemudian Julia baru datang.

“ Lama amat ?”, tanya Junika sambil menuruni tangga kos menuju ke tempat mobil Julia berada.

“ Macet bo!”, sahut Julia dari mobilnya.

“ Alasan aja nich Mama, ya Juno ya…”, kata Junika lagi sambil bermain dengan Juno, anak Julia.

“ Udah, buruan masuk.”

Junika pun masuk ke mobil dan mereka segera maluncur meninggalkan rumah kos itu.

“ Papa nya kemana nich ?”, tanya Junika.

“ Ya kerja lah Non. Emang tidur ?”, jawab Julia.

“ Ya gue cuma tanya, soalnya koq lo yang bawa mobil.”

“ Tadi dia bareng temennya. Soalnya gue bilang hari ni gue mau belanja sambil bawa Juno jalan-jalan.”

“ Anyway, Ya. Gue masih bingung aja dech sama lo. Juno tu kan nama perempuan. Koq dikasi ke anak laki-laki sich ?”

“ Bodo. Menurut gue tu nama unisex koq. Walaupun asalnya dari nama dewi pernikahan Roma. Masa dia dikasi nama June, jelek kali. Emangnya dia anak bule.”

“ Ya terserah lo dech.”, sahut Junika menyerah. “ Oya, lo mau belanja apaan sich ?”

“ Biasalah, susunya Juno abis, buburnya juga, trus pembalut gue, ya macem-macem dech. Belanja rumah tangga.”

“ Eh si Mayla lagi ngapain ya ? Gue pengen nelpon dia.”

“ Lagi kerja kali. Mendingan lo sms dulu.”

Junika pun mengambil ponsel untuk mengirimkan sms pada Mayla.

            Lg dmn lo?gw mo tlp nee…

Tak lama kemudian delivery report masuk tanda sms terkirim.

“ Lo sms ke nomor Aussie nya ?”, tanya Julia.

“ Ya nggak lah. Ke nomor Indo donk.”, jawab Junika. “ Lagian tu nomor diisi mulu sama dia tapi jarang dipake. Kan nggak papa kalau tu pulsa abis buat roaming he he he.”

“ Dia masih sama si berondong itu ?”

“ Masih katanya si Agis. Emang napa ?”

“ Yah nggak nyangka aja. Anak kecil gitu loh.”

“ Ya nggak papa kan ? Toh mereka cocok. Cuma gue rada nggak suka aja si Andra itu suka nginep di kosnya dia.”

“ Urusan dia lah. Udah gede ini. Lagian mereka juga nggak ngapa-ngapain kan ?”

“ Iya, tapi setan tuh ada dimana-mana, Ya. Who knows ?”

“ Gue yakin Mayla bisa ngurus dirinya sendiri, nggak kayak gue dulu.”

Tiba-tiba Junika merasa bersalah mendengar ucapan Julia.

“ Eh, sori Ya. Gue nggak maksud….”

“ Nggak papa lagi, Ka. Itu kan kenyataan.”

Junika masih tetap merasa nggak enak. Walaupun Julia mengatakan dengan santai, tapi dia juga tahu, pasti sedikit banyak ada perasaan menyesal di hati sahabatnya itu. Junika memang yang tertua di antara mereka berenam. Tapi kata Mayla, dia juga yang paling kolot. Tinggal di Jakarta sekian tahun nggak membuat Junika menjadi seorang cewek metropolitan. Hal itu cukup terlihat saat mereka mengetahui Julia yang tiba-tiba saja sudah memiliki seorang bayi.

“ Serius lo, Ka ? Lo udah liat anaknya ?”, tanya Mayla waktu itu.

“ Serius. Gila lo, itu bayi lucu banget…Cowok. Tapi gue masih nggak nyangka. Koq bisa sich Julia…Aduuhhh….gue nggak kebayang perasaan orangtuanya gimana.”, jawab Junika.

“ Itu mah mereka berdua yang bego.”, seru Marcia.

“ Heh ?”, sahut Junika bingung.

“ Ya iyalah..Kalau anak SMA gituan terus hamil, gue nggak heran. Maklumlah, anak ingusan, masih bego.”, kata Agistha. “ Tapi ini anak kuliahan gituan terus hamil, itu mah namanya bego. Koq nggak kenal kondom gitu loh.”

“ Ho oh. Hari gini nggak tahu kondom.”, sahut Aproshia. “ Di apotik juga banyak. Malah udah ada ATM kondom segala.”

“ Accidental kali.”, sahut Marcia.

“ Tetap aja, udah gede harusnya tahu donk. Minimal persiapan.”, kata Mayla.

“ Ih…kalian koq ngomonginnya kayak ini tuh sesuatu yang biasa sich ?”, omel Junika. “ Hello….ini tuh soal hamil di luar nikah.”

“ So ? Ini Jakarta, Ka. Udah banyak yang kayak gitu.”, jawab Agistha datar.

“ Bukan barang baru.”, timpal Marcia.

“ Temen gue, waktu SMP juga ada yang hamil.”, sahut Mayla.

“ Tapi kan….”, bantah Junika masih nggak mau kalah.

“ Gini, Ka. Kita bukannya nganggep itu hal yang lumrah atau wajar-wajar aja. Maksud kita berempat itu, hal seperti ini kan udah sering kejadian..jadi ya udah, nggak usah terlalu dihebohin.”, jelas Aproshia.

“ Tetep aja buat gue itu gila banget.”

“ Ka, lo tuh tinggal di planet mana sich ? Anak Jakarta bukan sich ?”, seru Mayla heran. “ Ini kan udah sering banget terjadi di sekitar kita…”

“ Bisa dibilang udah basi.”, timpal Marcia.

“ Kalian udah pada terkontaminasi kota metropolitan ini dech…”, kata Junika lagi.

“ Kita tinggal di sini, Ka. Kalau terkontaminasi, itu wajar.”, sahut Agistha.

“ Malah lo yang ajaib.”, sahut Aproshia yang disambut senyum mereka semua.

“ Biarin ah. Eniwei, kapan kita ngeliat si Julia ?”, tanya Junika kembali ke topik pembicaraan mereka semula.

“ Dia mau nggak kita datangin ?”, sahut Agistha balik bertanya.

“ Iya, ntar dia nya lagi yang nggak mau dikunjungin.”, kata Marcia.

“ Nggak papa lah. Kita kan bukan orang lain. Temen deket nya sendiri.”, jawab Junika.

“ Well, dia nggak bersikap begitu waktu dia tahu dia hamil kan ? Kita aja sama sekali nggak ngeh.”

“ Mungkin dia malu sama kita, atau yah kita kan nggak tahu alasannya apa.”, sahut Mayla.

“ Tapi kalau gue jadi dia, gue pasti lebih dulu cerita sama kalian-kalian daripada orang lain, loh.”, ucap Marcia.

“ Mungkin dia justru ga cerita sama siapa-siapa.”, sahut Aproshia.

“ Udah ah, jadinya kita kapan mau ke rumah Julia ?”, celetuk Mayla mengembalikan topik pembicaraan.

“ Lusa aja. Ntar kita beliin apa kek dulu buat anaknya.”, sahut Junika.

Junika tersadar kembali ke masa kini ketika ponselnya berdering. Dari Mayla.

“ Halo….”, seru Junika.

“ Gue lagi kerja neh.”, sahut Mayla.

“ Lah koq lo bisa telpon gue ?”

“ Soalnya lagi nggak rame sore ni. Emang napa sich lo mau nelpon segala ?”

“ Jadi nggak boleh nich gue telpon lo ?”

“ Ya boleh aja sich..Cuma kalau nelpon kan lo pasti ke nomor Indonesia gue, sama aja tuh gue bayar roaming.”

“ Kan biar gue irit, May.”

“ Dasar pelit lo. Lagi dimana sich ?”

“ Lagi nemenin Julia belanja. Ni masih di jalan.”

“ Eh pa kabar tu anak ?”

“ Ntar, gue loudspeaker aja ya.”

Kemudian Junika pun menekan tombol loudspeaker di ponselnya.

“ Ya, pa kabar lo ?”, seru Mayla.

“ Baek aja..Lo tuh..pulang donk…pacaran mulu di sana.”, sahut Julia.

“ Ih, sirik aja lo..mentang-mentang udah punya buntut, jadi nggak bisa pacaran ya ? Junika aja nggak sirik.”

“ Eh, apa maksudnya tuh nyindir gue ?”, sahut Junika sebal. “ Emang napa kalau gue jomblo ?”

“ Marah tuh dia, May.”, timpal Julia.

“ Biasa…orang udah tua tuh sensi kalau ditanyain soal pacar hi hi hi…”, goda Mayla.

“ Iya juga, May. Si Junika ni betah amat jomblo.”

“ Bodo..”, seru Junika kesal. “ Nggak ada yang qualified sich…”

“ Nggak ada yang qualified atau nggak ada yang mau??? Huahahahahahaha….”, ledek Mayla lagi.

“ Sialan lo…ntar gue doain nggak jadi sama berondong lo itu, baru tahu lo.”

“ Wah….jangan gitu donk, Ka..Ntar gue doain lo dapet berondong juga dech..yah anak buah lo di kantor bolehlah…he he he…”

“ Udah ah, males gue ngomong sama lo, May.”

“ Wahahahahahaha…ngambek tuh, May.”, kata Julia.

“ Biasa dech kalau dia.”, sahut Mayla. “ Eh, kalian mau belanja apaan emang ?”

“ Biasa kebutuhan rumah tangga. Tadi gue iseng-iseng sms Junika, ngajakin, ternyata dia bisa. Baru pulang kerja jam 7 tadi katanya.”

“ Busyet…betah amat lo kerja di situ, Ka. Kan masih banyak tempat laen.”

“ Biarin ah, kan jabatan gue juga udah naik. Sabar dikit, sapa tahu gue dimutasi ke bagian yang office hour.”, sahut Junika.

“ Amin…..”, seru Mayla dan Julia bersamaan.

“ Eh btw, si Agis mau dikadoin apa yah ?”, tanya Mayla.

“ Tauk. Enaknya apa ?”, sahut Julia balik bertanya.

“ Dia ntar tinggal di mana sich ? Di Jakarta atau di Jogja ?”

“ Nggak tahu tuh.”, jawab Junika. “ Tadi malem gue telpon, katanya dia aja masih bingung mau acaranya dimana. Gedung juga belum dapet.”

“ Ye..gimana sich tu anak ?? Belum pasti donk judulnya…Gue kan harus perkiraan kapan ke sana…”

“ Ntar gue tanya dia lagi dech.”

“ Eh guys, dah dulu ya…mulai rame nich…see ya…”, pamit Mayla.

“ Dahh…May..”, jawab Junika dan Julia.

Julia

Sekitar jam setengah 5 sore, Julia dan Juno sudah sampai di rumah. Ghani masih belum pulang. Setelah menidurkan Juno yang sudah kecapekan jalan-jalan, Julia pun membereskan belanjaannya tadi yang masih di taruh di dapur dekat bak cuci piring. Setelah membereskan belanjaan, ia pun mencuci piring dan peralatan masak tadi siang.

“ Sore, Bu.”, sapa Mbok Tarmi, pengasuh Juno.

“ Sore Mbok. Udah maem ?”, sahut Julia.

“ Inggih, Bu. Den Juno sampun tilem ?”

“ Iya. Kecapekan kayak’e.”

Kemudian pengasuh itu pun bergegas ke kamar melihat Juno. Julia kemudian membuat secangkir susu hangat untuk dirinya sendiri. Sambil meminumnya, ia teringat saat-saat awal kehamilannya dulu. Sungguh suatu hal yang masih sulit ia percaya. Walaupun ia dan Ghani dulu melakukan hubungan seks itu secara sadar. Semuanya terjadi begitu saja. Ia pun berusaha tidak menyesali kejadian tersebut dan berkali-kali meyakinkan dirinya sendiri kalau ia sedang tidak dalam masa subur, sehingga tidak mungkin hamil. Bahkan Ghani pun tidak melakukan ejakulasi di dalam. Tapi bulan berikutnya semuanya berubah dan tidak sesuai perhitungan. Ia ternyata positif hamil setelah menyadari ia tidak juga mengalami menstruasi. Ia masih ingat reaksi Ghani saat ia memberitahunya dulu.

“ Apa ? Kamu serius Lia ?”, seru Ghani shock sambil berusaha melihat wajahnya. Tapi Julia memalingkan pandangannya sambil menyerahkan sebuah test pack. Tanpa perlu melihat alat itu, Ghani sudah tahu kalau Julia serius.

“ Terus kamu mau gimana ?”, tanyanya akhirnya pada Julia yang masih diam dengan ekspresi beku.

“ Akan aku lahirkan.”, ucap Julia singkat sambil berlalu dari Ghani.

“ Lia !”, panggil Ghani sambil menarik tangannya. “ Lia, tunggu. Kalau memang mau kamu lahirkan, kita menikah sekarang.”, ucap Ghani lagi. Tapi Julia menggeleng, dan berkeras beranjak pergi.

“ Kenapa kamu nggak mau kita menikah ?”, tanya Ghani bingung. “ Aku siap untuk tanggung jawab.”

“ Aku nggak berniat untuk bilang dengan siapapun. Aku mau pergi yang jauh. Biar orangtuaku nggak tahu, teman-temanku nggak tahu. Biar nggak ada seorang pun yang tahu.”

“ Terus kuliah kamu gimana ? Nggak, aku bakal datengin Papa kamu. Kita hadapi ini berdua.”

“ Papaku bisa bunuh aku, Ghan…Biarin aja aku pergi…”, ucap Julia sambil terisak.

“ Sayang, dengerin aku..Papa mu pasti marah, aku yakin. Tapi dia nggak bakal bunuh kamu. Biarkan aku bertanggungjawab. Aku bakal datengin Papa kamu, semua keluargamu kalau perlu. Yang penting kita nikah.”

“ Nggak bisa Ghan..nggak bisa….”

Sebuah tangisan kecil Juno mengembalikan Julia dari kenangan masa lalu nya. Ia pun bergegas menuju tempat buah hatinya itu berada.

Agistha

Sekitar jam 4 sore, training hari ini selesai. Sambil membereskan berkas-berkas pelatihan, Agistha melirik jam tangan nya. Sudah sore juga, batinnya. Tema pelatihannya hari ini adalah menumbuhkan motivasi dengan peserta karyawan sebuah Bank Perkreditan Rakyat. Agistha sudah hampir 2 tahun ini bekerja di sebuah Lembaga Pelatihan sebagai trainer. Ia sangat mencintai pekerjaannya dan juga Jogja, kota tempat ia tinggal saat ini. Agistha bahkan menolak tawaran kerja di sebuah perusahaan di Jakarta hanya karena ia tidak mau meninggalkan Jogja. Setelah semua berkasnya tersusun rapi, ia pun meraih ponsel dan menghubungi Marcia.

“ Halo, Gis.”, seru Marcia.

“ Lagi ngapain Bu Manager HRD ?”, sahut Agistha.

“ Junior manager. Biasa lah…ngeberesin laporan anak buah gue. Ada yang ngaco gitu.”

“ Ceile…sibuk amat.”

“ Emang, dan gue masih sebel sama Junika yang ngeganggu tidur gue tadi malem.”

“ Ha ha ha ha…emang ya tu anak nggak kira-kira. Dia pikir kita tu jam kerjanya ga jelas kayak dia.”

“ Anyway, Gis, acara lo bulan Agustus tu kapan ?”

“ Belum tahu juga, Mar. Gue tu belum dapat gedung. Lu tahu lah Jakarta, susah aja cari gedung buat bikin acara.”

“ Kan bisa di rumah aja.”

“ Ogah gue. Kasihan Bokap, ntar malah ribet lagi di rumah. Gue tu maunya yang praktis aja. Nikah ma resepsi sekalian di satu gedung itu. Supaya di rumah nggak ribet lagi.”

“ Kalau lo mau nggak ribet, lo merit aja di KUA sono nggak usah pake resepsi…”

“ Ngaco dech lo. Apa kata relasi Bokap gue ? Ntar dikirain gue married by accident lagi.”

“ Huahahahahahahaha…lucu juga tuh, Gis.”

“ Oya, bukannya lo juga mau merit ?”

“ Iya sich, mungkin Desember. Tapi gue juga belum dapat gedung.”

“ Ya lo mah enak, modal lo banyak, lah gue ?”

“ Apanya yang modal banyak, Gis….sama aja kali kita…”

“ Ya nggak sama dong, Mar. Secara gaji kita aja udah beda jauh.”

“ Yah lo sich, nggak mau keluar dari Jogja.”

“ Gue nyari hidup nyaman.”

“ Iya sich, gue juga ribet disini. Pusing pala gue. Kayak Jakarta aja. Tapi mendinganlah di Jakarta, at least gue nggak usah mikir bayar kontrakan rumah he he he. Nggak usah mikir makan juga. Kan di rumah ada.”

“ Dasar pedit lo. Eh anak-anak apa kabar ya ?”

“ Yah…lo tanya gue…Mendingan lo tuh, bisa sering ketemu Aproshia. Gue kan sendirian di sini. Kayak Mayla di Aussie sana.”

“ Eh, nggak lagi. Si Mayla mah nggak sendiri, kan ada berondong nya..he he he.”

“ Iya juga, berarti masih mendingan dia daripada gue. Tunangan gue aja di mana….”

“ Ntar lo kalau udah merit gimana ?”

“ Belum tahu, Gis. Malik karirnya lagi bagus di Jakarta. Gue disini juga bagus. Gue masih bingung. Kalau ada yang mungkin ngalah ya gue. Gue bisa aja kan masuk di perusahaan mana aja. Kalau Malik yang ke sini, kasian malahan.”

“ Iya juga sich. Interior Designer banyakan di Jakarta ya….”

“ Ho’o…”

“ Gue kirain lo dah mau pulang ni Mar.”

“ Belom, paling jam 5 ntar. Tu juga kalau Bos gue nggak tiba-tiba ngajak meeting.”

“ Kasian amat sich jadi lo..”

“ Ya mau gimana lagi, Gis. Ni resiko kerjaan gue kan..”

“ Ya udah dech, gue mo balik nich..Ntar gue telpon lagi…”

“ Daah…”

Pembicaraan pun berakhir. Agistha melirik jam tangannya dan bergegas bersiap pulang. Di depan kantor ia sudah dijemput Akmal.

“ Kok tumben udah pulang ?”, tanya Agistha.

“ Lagi nggak banyak kerjaan aja. Mau langsung balik ?”, sahut Akmal balik bertanya.

“ He eh. Pengen mandi, capek banget rasanya.”

Intro Come On, Aileen nya Save Ferris berdering nyaring. Marcia yang baru saja terlelap pun menyumpah-nyumpah dalam hati. Sedikit malas-malasan ia bangun untuk mengambil ponsel yang terletak di meja rias. “Sapa sich orang gila sms tengah malam gini ?”, omelnya. “ Gue juga ga lagi ulang tahun. Ni kan masih Januari.”

Sempat terpikir di benaknya untuk membiarkan saja sms tersebut. Tapi memikirkan sekitar beberapa menit kemudian ponsel itu akan berbunyi lagi, (well, dia pasang reminder kalau ada pesan yang belum terbaca, salah satu fitur di ponselnya, maka ponsel tersebut akan berbunyi Bip setiap 8 menit sekali yang tentu saja, jelas lebih mengganggu) kayaknya mendingan ni sms dibaca aja. Dilihatnya sepintas nama pengirim sms tersebut. “Oh si Agistha. Napa ya ?”, batinnya. Segera saja dibacanya sms tersebut.

“ Merit pas bulan dia ultah ? Dasar maniak Agustus.”, ucapnya. “ Gue kirain, gue aja yang mau merit tahun ini.”, lanjutnya. Marcia memang belum bilang ke teman-temannya tentang rencananya naik ke pelaminan akhir tahun ini.

Aproshia

Kring……

Jam beker Aproshia berbunyi nyaring. Dilihatnya sekilas, jarum jam menunjukkan angka 5. Dengan berat hati ia pun segera bangun. Diraihnya ponsel di nakas sebelah ranjang dan menyalakan ponsel nya itu. Seketika saja beberapa sms masuk. Pesan dari Agistha dibaca belakangan.

Mayla 00.10 am

Ada yang mau merit tuh,dikadoin apa yah buw???

Mayla 00.12 am

Kebiasaan dech lo tuh,cha.hp ga usah dimatiin napa???grr…gw harus balik indo neh..

Sebelum membalas sms Mayla, ia putuskan membaca sms Agistha dulu. “ Kayaknya ni oknum yang mau merit.”, batinnya. Baru saja selesai membalas sms Agistha, telfon pun masuk dari Mayla.

“ Halo, May…”, sahutnya.

“ Pagii…..”, jawab Mayla.

“ Subuh tepatnya. Ni baru jam 5 lewat tauk.”

“ Ya di gw kan udah pagi..Ni udah jam 8 mbak…”

“ Nggak kuliah lo ?”

“ Ampun ni si jeung lupa aja mulu kalau gue udah lulus, sekarang nunggu wisuda doank…”

“ Iya..iya…”

“ Gue harus balik Indonesia nih kayaknya. Tapi masih ntar Agustus ya? Gue cari kerja di Indonesia aja kali ya.”

“ Bukannya lo bilang mau mendulang dolar di Brisbane sono ?”

“ Huahahahaha…iya juga sich..mendingan gue kerja dulu kali ya sampai Juli terus gueresign, cari kerja di Indonesia dech..”

“ Nggak sayang tuh ? Gaji lo kan ntar turun drastis.”

“ Iya juga sich..ya liat ntar dech.”

“ Ya udah, gue mau mandi nich.”

“ Iya buw…dah Aproshia…”

“ Panggil gue Cacha aja.”

“ Bye Cacha…”

“ Bye May.”

Hh…sambil menghela nafas ia pun meletakkan ponsel tersebut di meja rias, dan menuju kamar mandi.

Mayla

I’ve been living with the shadow overhead..

I’ve been sleeping with the clouds above my bed..

I’ve been lonely for so long..

Trapped in the past I just can’t seem to move on..

Suara Haley Bennett dalam Way Back Into Love berkumandang. Dengan sedikit kesal Mayla terbangun dan meraih ponsel di sebelah bantalnya. Nama Agistha mejeng di layar ponselnya.

“ Ampun…Agis..ni kan jam 3 pagi….”, omelnya kesal dalam hati. Buru-buru dibacanya sms itu karena takut membangunkan Andra yang lagi nyenyak banget tidur di sampingnya. Seketika keningnya berkerut membaca sms itu. “ Hah ? Dia mau merit ?”, ucapnya. Baguslah, batinnya lagi. Kemudian ia menekan tombol untuk membalas sms, dan menuliskan pesan singkat.

Penting ya,ngasi tahunya jam3 subuh gini???Sadar jeung..diriku lg di benua lain…Anyway,congratz yach! ^^

Setelah itu ia mengirimkan sms pada Aproshia, tapi seperti yang ia duga, ponsel cewek itu mati, as usual, batinnya, kemudian ia mengetik 1 sms lagi untuk gadis itu lalu kembali meletakkan kepalanya di atas bantal, dan tidur.

Junika

Ia baru saja hilang kesadaran ke alam mimpi ketika ponselnya bergetar tanda sms masuk. Dengan terkaget-kaget ia mencari sumber getaran dan menemukan ponselnya di sebelah kanan LCD komputer.

“ Busyet..gue ngantuk banget…”, gumamnya. Ia pun meregangkan badan, dan memutuskan untuk ke pantry. Kebetulan hari ini ia kebagian masuk malam sampai pagi.

“ Gue aja ngantuk berat gini, apalagi mereka-mereka.”, batinnya sambil melihat ke arah anak buahnya, para call center sebuah operator seluler yang kebagian masuk kerja.

Sambil menuju pantry, ia membuka sms yang masuk tersebut. Oh, si Agis, batinnya. Kenapa ya ?, sahutnya lagi. Di pantry, hanya ada 1 anak buahnya saja yang sedang menikmati secangkir milo hangat.

“ Lagi break, Man ?”, tanya Junika.

“ Eh, iya Mbak.”, sahut Rahman agak kaget melihat kemunculan Junika yang tiba-tiba.

“ Minum milo bukannya tambah ngantuk ?”

“ Kalau minum kopi lambungku yang nggak kuat mbak he he he…”

Junika hanya tersenyum saja. Kemudian ia pun membuat secangkir teh hangat untuk dirinya sendiri. Sambil agak menghela nafas, ia pun membaca sms dari Agistha tadi.

“ Merit ? Alhamdulillah…Wah, harus liat jadwal cuti dari sekarang nich.”

Ia pun membalas sms tersebut untuk mengucapkan selamat pada Agistha. Setelah itu, dalam diam ia menghabiskan teh di cangkirnya. Rahman sudah kembali ke cubiclenya. Sambil sedikit termenung ia memikirkan dirinya sendiri. Ia dan Agistha seumur, malah Agistha lebih muda beberapa bulan. Tapi Agistha sudah akan menikah, sedangkan ia, pacar aja lagi nggak ada, batinnya agak kesal. Sudah beberapa tahun ini ia bekerja di sebuah operator seluler terkemuka di Jakarta, dan hampir setahun ini ia menjabat sebagaiSupervisor Call Centre. Jam kerja yang berbeda dengan orang kebanyakan membuat Junika agak susah cari pacar. Ia jadi teringat obrolannya dengan Julia.

“ Ya gimana nggak susah, Ka…giliran cowok lo libur, lo malah kerja, sampe malam pula..boro-boro ngajak dinner apalagi midnight pas malam minggu. Adanya kencan lo berdua ntar pas jam sarapan.”, seru Julia sedikit geli ketika ia mengeluhkan status jomblonya.

“ Tapi gue juga bosen jomblo mulu, Ya.”

“ Satu-satunya cara, lo cari pacar ya orang kantor lo juga. Kan udah biasa tu cinlok di kantor.”

“ Ogah gue. Gue tu supervisor termuda, yang lain dah pada beranak, kalau nggak pada bujang lapuk. Nggak mau ah.”

“ Emang anak buah lo nggak ada yang segeran ?”

“ Ya ada sich..tapi kan di bawah gue gitu..masa gue pacaran sama berondong ?”

“ So what ??”

“ Ntar mereka minder lagi gajinya gedean gue.”, sahutnya yang diiringi tawa Julia.

Sambil tersenyum Junika mengingatnya. Ia memang cukup dekat dengan Julia, itu pun karena alasan yang sederhana. Julia satu-satunya yang masih di Jakarta, karena ia sudah menikah dan punya seorang anak. Agistha dan Aproshia memilih kerja dan menetap di Jogja, Marcia di Rumbai, sedangkan Mayla justru mengambil S2 di Brisbane, Australia. Pertemuan mereka berenam terakhir kalinya sewaktu Julia merayakan ulang tahun pertama anaknya, sekitar 6-7 bulan yang lalu. Itupun kebetulan Mayla sedang mengambil data untuk tesis S2nya dan Marcia sedang ikut training yang diadakan kantornya di Jakarta. Agistha dan Aproshia kebetulan sedang mengambil cuti. Dari pertemuan dadakan itu, sudah banyak yang berubah dari teman-temannya. Terutama Marcia dan Mayla. Misalnya saja, Marcia yang sewaktu jaman kuliah tomboy habis-habisan, sekarang justru feminin berat dan hobi banget pake dress kemana-mana. Sedangkan Mayla yang cenderung kolot dan bahkan tidak memperbolehkan pacarnya masuk kamar kos-nya, justru sering nginap di flat pacarnya (gitu juga sebaliknya) di Brisbane walaupun masih bersumpah kalau ia masih tetap kolot masalah keperawanan.

Julia

Pesan dari Agistha masuk saat Julia kebetulan terbangun untuk buang air kecil. Untunglah ponselnya sudah pada mode getar, sehingga bunyinya tidak akan mengganggu tidur Juno, bocah kecilnya. Setelah keluar dari kamar mandi, ia pun meraih ponselnya dan membaca pesan itu. Julia tidak terlalu surprise membacanya. Agistha pacaran dengan Akmal sudah lama, lebih dari 3 tahun. Hanya berbeda sekitar 1 bulan ketika ia pacaran dengan Ghani, suaminya. Hanya saja Julia menikah lebih dulu karena suatu hal yang ia tahu, walaupun diketahui teman-temannya, tetap saja menyisakan rasa penasaran di hati mereka. Julia memang tidak terbuka soal itu, sampai saat ini tidak ada yang tahu pasti kejadian yang menyebabkan ia menikah tiba-tiba dengan Ghani. Marcia, Aproshia, Mayla, Junika dan Agistha hanya tahu sebab utamanya, yaitu Juno. Tapi tidak pernah tahu cerita lengkapnya. Sambil sedikit melamun ia membalas sms Agistha.

Selamat ya say…tapi tgl brp ne pstnya??kita kan bukan dukun…he he he..acaranya dimana?bls nya bsk aja pas udh pg,aku mw bobo nich..

Pesan terkirim beberapa saat kemudian. Saat ia hendak membaringkan diri, ternyata Ghani terbangun.

“ Ngapain Ma ?”, tanya suaminya itu.

“ Tadi kebelet pipis. Trus ada sms dari Agistha. Dia mau nikah bulan Agustus ntar.”, jawabnya.

“ Oya ? Tanggal berapa ? Acaranya dimana ?”

“ Belum tahu juga. Dia cuma bilang mau nikah bulan Agustus. Nggak bilang juga kapan. Aneh dech anak itu.”

“ Moga-moga aja disini. Jadi kita kan nggak jauh-jauh.”

“ Iya sich.”

Percakapan mereka terputus sejenak karena Juno sepertinya akan terbangun. Tapi ternyata bocah kecil itu hanya menggeliat saja.

“ Mendingan kita tidur aja, Pa. Daripada nanti Juno bangun.”

“ Kita ke ruang makan sebentar yuk. Aku pengen ngeteh.”, ajak Ghani.

Mereka berdua pun menuju ruang makan. Julia membuatkan secangkir teh hangat untuk suaminya.

“ Kenapa ? Ada yang ganggu pikiran kamu ?”, tanyanya.

“ Nggak papa. Aku cuma masih sering ngerasa bersalah sama kamu.”, sahut Ghani.

“ Karena ?”

“ Keadaan kita saat ini.”

“ Itu kan kesalahan aku juga. Kita sama-sama salah kok. Tapi buat apa kan terus menyesali keadaan ?”, sahut Julia. “ Awalnya memang aku agak shock. Tapi kehadiran Juno itu juga anugerah buat aku. Nggak usah merasa bersalah, Pa.”

“ Harusnya kan sekarang kamu bisa berkarier dulu seperti teman-teman kamu. Bukannya ngurus Juno sama aku gini.”

“ Cepat atau lambat keadaan ini kan bakalan terjadi juga.”

“ Tapi aku nggak pernah mikir secepat ini. Kuliahmu jadi keteteran, sekarang juga kamu jadi nggak bisa kerja.”

“ Dulu aku sering ngebayangin kalau misalnya ini semua nggak terjadi. Mungkin aku udah kerja di perusahaan keren kayak Marcia, atau kuliah S2 ke luar negeri kayak Mayla. Tapi terus aku sadar, ini konsekuensi dari tindakan aku dulu juga. Jadi buat apa menyesal.”

Ghani hanya diam saja sambil melihat istrinya itu.

“ Aku nggak pernah sedikitpun menyalahkan kamu, Pa.”, ujar Julia lembut sambil menggenggam tangan suaminya. “ Udah malam nich, kita tidur aja yuk.”

Kemudian ia membereskan cangkir teh di meja makan dan kembali ke kamar tidur.

Agistha

Balasan pertama sms nya, datang dari Mayla, seperti yang ia duga. Isinya pun seperti yang ia duga, kecuali bagian jam 3 paginya. Agistha benar-benar lupa kalau Mayla ada di Australia. Selanjutnya, berturut-turut balasan dari Julia dan Junika. Ketika membaca balasan dari Julia barulah ia sadar kalau ia mengirimkan berita tanpa tanggal dan tempat acara pernikahannya nanti digelar. Baru saja akan mengirimkan sms konfirmasi, Junika sudah meneleponnya lebih dulu dari kantor.

“ Halo, Ka, lo lagi kerja ya ?”, tanya Agistha.

“ Iya nich. Kebagian jaga malam. Padahal ngantuk banget gini.”, jawab Junika.

“ Emang ada gitu yang telepon jam segini ?”

“ Ya dikit sich…nggak sebanyak kalau siang sampe jam 10 malam.”

“ Kirain dah pada tidur he he he.”

“ Lagian lo sms nggak jelas gitu sich. Nggak ada tanggalnya, venue nya dimana juga nggak jelas.”

“ Iya dech sori…gue juga tadi kena marah Mayla. Dia bilang penting ya ngasi kabar jam 3 pagi…Gue lupa banget dia di Aussie.”

“ Jadi acaranya ntar dimana nich ?”

“ Kan Bokap gue di Jakarta. Jadi ya di sana lah.”

“ Kebetulan, gue nggak usah keluar ongkos…”

“ Ih..pedit amat sich lo. Secara gaji lo lebih gede dari gue aja.”

“ Emang lebih gede, tapi buat hidup juga mahalan gue. Kos gue sama kontrakan lo setahun pasti lebih mahal kos gue.”

“ Emang sich he he he.”

“ Jadi tanggal berapa trus dimana ?”

“ Tanggalnya belum tahu sich. Di Jakarta juga belum pasti. Gue belum dapat gedung soalnya. Mentok-mentok kalau nggak dapet ya paling di Jogja.”

“ Halah…gaya amat sich lo…belum jelas aja udah ngabar-ngabarin.”

“ Biar lo udah siap-siap cuti. Trus si Mayla juga ada kesempatan nabung buat tiket dia bolak-balik ke sini sama kado gue he he he.”

“ Dia kan udah mau wisuda. Paling juga dia nganggur di sana.”

“ Katanya sich masih part-time dimana-mana. Mau mendulang dolar katanya.”

“ Pacaran mulu mah dia.”

“ Sirik aja lo…biarin lah…dia kan jomblo lama banget dulu..akhirnya punya pacar juga.”

“ Abis gue sebel aja. Lo udah mau nikah, si Marcia udah tunangan. Si Julia malah udah punya buntut segala. Lah gue ??? Pacar aja nggak ada.”

“ Ya cari dong Neng. Masa banyak karyawannya gitu kantor lo ga ada satu pun yang seger buat dikecengin.”

“ Banyak berondongnyah….”

“ Ya nggak papa kan ?”

“ Ogah gue ngikutin Mayla.”

“ Sapa tahu lo ketularan muda hi hi hi….”

“ Sial.”

“ Udah ah, lo menyalahgunakan jabatan nich. Ni kan telepon kantor. Lagian gue mau tidur. Besok gue ada training jam 9.”

“ Kalau ada fasilitas kenapa nggak dipake ? Lagian kalian semua kan udah gue kasi nomor baru supaya gue bisa telepon gratis.”

“ Eh, gue sama Mayla nggak yah. Ya udah, mendingan lo cari teman rumpi yang lain, si Marcia kek.”

“ Eh bener juga, tunggu bentar, gue mau conference aja sekalian bertiga.”

Tanpa menunggu persetujuan dari Agistha, Junika menghubungi Marcia dan langsung menyambungkan mereka bertiga ke satu line.

“ Ka, gue udah mau tidur neh…”, omel Marcia.

“ Iya ni orang. Gue juga ngantuk.”, timpal Agistha.

“ Biar sekalian. Apa gue telfon si Mayla juga ya ?”, kata Junika.

“ Lo bakalan dimutilasi sama dia. Di sana jam 3 pagi.”

“ Emang ngapain sich conference segala ?”, tanya Marcia. “ Gue ngantor jam 8 nich…ada rapat pula…”

“ Iya Ibu manager HRD..Cuma bentar ini..kita kan udah lama nggak ngobrol.”, kata Junika.

“ Junior manager.”, koreksi Marcia. “ Ya lo liat jamnya dong…atau paling nggak pilih hari…Besok kan hari Rabu.”

“ Kerjaan gue nggak kenal hari. Kalian bisa aja Sabtu-Minggu libur. Gue tetep masuk. Masuk malam pula.”

“ Lagian lo betah amat sich kerja kayak gituan…Nggak sayang badan dech.”, omel Agistha.

“ Mumpung karier gue udah lumayan. Ya ditahan-tahan dulu aja. Sapa tahu abis ini gue pindah ke bagian lain yang jam kerjanya office hour.”

“ Amiinnn…..”, seru Marcia dan Agistha bersamaan.

“ Udah ah, gue mau tidur. Besok ngantor nich.”, omel Marcia lagi.

“ Iya, iya..dah semua…”, kata Junika.

“ Bye.”, sahut Agistha.

“ Daahhh.”, kata Marcia. Kemudian hubungan telepon mereka bertiga pun terputus.

Agistha memutuskan untuk tidur setelah ia membereskan bahan-bahan untuk trainingbesok.