  Drama
This week: When it is meant to be ... Edited by: THANKFUL SONALI 17 WDC YEARS!  
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I am going to apologise here. Because this newsletter is about ME.
But I had to make it so. Something so special, something so dramatic happened to me in July that I simply had to share it with you. I don't think anyone would've come up with this plot if they'd scripted it carefully!
So read on, for the drama that was in my life, for which I'm so, so grateful. |
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Dear Reader,
July was an exciting month for me. So, when I sat down to submit this newsletter, I decided it doesn't get more dramatic, and wanted to share my excitement (purely professionally, of course, as guest editor of the drama newsletter!  )
To begin with, we have to go back in time, about eight years ...
Thursday, April 15, 2010. 7.11 PM.
"Many congratulations! Your contest entry is among the 20 that have been shortlisted. A panel of judges is now reading through the shortlist to pick the top three entries that will be published We’ll keep you posted!"
The Facebook page sees a lot of activity. My friend Savita says 'one of yours ought to be a winner'. My Writing Dot Com buddies say 'Congratulations on the greater odds'.
Thu, May 6, 2010, 4:46 PM
"Dear Sonali,
It gives us great delight to inform you that you’ve won. Many congratulations! Your entry along with the two other winning entries, will be published. We will be reverting to you shortly with a contract. Congratulations once again."
Congratulations pour in from friends, family and the WDC community.
A courier -- Dad's nurse receives it (Dad has had knee surgery) -- a cheque (money!) and a contract! Much, much excitement.
Silence.
No sign of the book.
I try emailing, the mails bounce. Facebook messages go unseen. I wonder what has happened. Have they abandoned it? Why isn't anyone saying anything? Why are emails bouncing? I keep thinking, "Time to give up." I keep answering myself, "One more email." In 2016, I email, deciding that this'll be THE final time. It has been six years of silence, after all. (Hey, that would make a good title for a song ... 'Six Years Of Silence', nice alliteration ... but I digress.) No more emails after this, I decide.
July, 2018. I'm talking to my friend on the phone. I can hear her seven-month old daughter cooing in the background. This friend and I have known each other a couple of years. Something comes up about writing and I mention the contest and my victory to her.
Suddenly, I feel the need to show her the Facebook post that has declared me a winner. She believes me, I know, but I want to show it to her in writing anyway. One part of my brain is telling me that I'm FIFTY years old, not FIVE, and I should learn to let go. Another part of my brain makes me keep searching for the post.
I find the post declaring me a winner. I forward it to my friend in a mail.
I pause.
Now that I've found it -- why not. Just give it one more try. Comment on it. I comment "I didn't hear anything. Did this one get published?" Facebook flashes at me 'SEND THIS AS A MESSAGE'. Okay, I tell Facebook.
Half an hour. .
Jul 18th, 10:37pm
"Dear Sonali, we'll get back to you on this."
The rest is history.
They'd lost all their email contacts to a virus, the person on the project had, since then, quit. They're as excited as I am that I got in touch. The launch is in my city, in ten days. Will I be able to speak about my entry? Will I ever!
I did speak at the launch last Friday. I signed copies, too!  There were photographs, and even a one-line mention in the press, along with coverage for another book.
At the time, and now, looking back -- I'm struck by how many things just fell into place at the time. Was it coincidence? Or was it meant to be, that I attended the launch, and got my hands on the book?
My friend Gauri marvelled, "Wow. Imagine if they hadn't replied again. Or if they'd said they had ditched the project. Or if the launch wasn't here but somewhere where you couldn't go. Or if they'd just had the launch a couple of days before you pinged them ..."
The what-ifs are all plausible scenarios. In fact, they're probably more plausible than the real-life occurrences. I pinged the publisher, out of the blue, after eight years of receiving my contract, and I got a reply that the book I've contributed to is being launched in ten days in my city.
I doubt whether any scriptwriter could've dreamed up a more dramatic scenario. And, if s/he had, I doubt it would sound believable.
But it did happen.
And I'm grateful.
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Thank you for the response to "Why are they here?"
Quick-Quill 
I loved the story in this NL. First you pose the question why we attend a function? Really why do we go? I ran through a few recent scenarios I'd attended and been unable to attend. Your story of the real reason The woman went to the "Coronation" was homey and sweet. I thought of times I'd gone somewhere for the freebie. Once a local car dealership was giving out a free George Forman grill for test driving a car. I coerced my husband to go. "We'll drive the car, get the free grill and go home." We drove the car and sat while the man tried to get us to exchange our car for a new one. When he held firm to out car and asked for the grill we were told they ran out and had to go to another place and get them. That took two hours, while different salesmen tried to change our mind. What started out as an hour or two morning jaunt ended in a 5 hour trip, all because I wanted the free grill! My husband has not let me live this down |
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Drama: August 08, 2018 Issue [#9037]
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