I've done it. I've finally finished writing the story. After years of struggling with laziness and writer's block, I'm finally done.
It took me a long time to be confident enough about my subject. People told me it wouldn't work. They told me to add some drama to make my plot pop. I tried to change my story around. Deep in my heart, I knew that I wanted nothing more than to tell the story of a character who would remind my readers of a nameless, voiceless person. Just another face in the crowd. Like a dust mite that gleams in the sunlight but disappears when the curtains are closed.
So I did.
And since I’ve finally managed to finish writing, here’s the manuscript for you to read and enjoy. Please read, and don't forget to tell me what you think.
But first, the acknowledgements.
I must thank, among other inspirational men and women, University of Virginia English professor, Bruce Holsinger, for bringing to my attention the thousands of women, who painstakingly typed out manuscripts for their husbands’ books.
Holsinger’s social media campaign #ThanksForTyping started off with photographs of acknowledgement pages of books – all with men thanking their wives for typing out their manuscripts. Holsinger tweeted out numerous acknowledgements, where the wives are thanked for editing, proof-reading and typing. Without a campaign like this, I would hardly pay attention to the mundane details that authors seem to include in their acknowledgement sections.
I'd like to thank campaigns like SlutWalk, that called upon women to take part in protest marches, calling for an end to rape culture. I would also like to thank campaigns like #WhyLoiter, which hope to highlight the fact that women are so often excluded from public spaces.
I would like to thank the women, who, bereft of privileges, haven’t participated in any of these campaigns, but who continue to fight for themselves despite all odds.
These women remind me of the ones behind those typewriters, the ones who paid close attention to every detail while typing out the manuscripts while juggling their many other commitments.
I want to take a moment to thank my muse, the invisible woman. She has always existed in reference to the other. She is a mother, a wife, a sister and a daughter. Since her parents knew she’d always exist in reference to others, they thought it would be best not to name her. Let’s call her Miss Nameless.
Anyway, you'd have to start reading the book to find out what happens to Miss Nameless. Until then, I thank the final lot. The most deserving lot. The women I meet every day, the women I read about, the women I am inspired by. The ones who are fearless, confident and strong. Without you, this acknowledgement would never have been possible.
You’d expect the first chapter to start now. Well, it won’t. But don’t worry, this is not one of those gimmicks that will lead you to a PDF that you need to shell out money for.
As I was about to release the chapters of my book online, I realised something. It hit me that the story I wanted to tell was nothing new.
My plot peeked out of the daily news stories that reminded me about how women were treated in our world. My story stared back at me from the way lawmakers and influencers decided women's issues.
The incidents of brutal crime, the rising instances of rape, molestation and domestic violence, the instances of disrespect and dominance, they all told the same tale over and over again – that this was no world for women.
But just like my book, this story too had a climax. Slowly, but surely, the once-suppressed began to rise. By the time you've read this far, a few more people have decided to work to make the world a safer place, one with equal opportunities. Remember, this story has just begun.
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