Jack and I: The Beginning

That’s it. I’ve had it with myself.

So I’m officially surrendering my no-life life to Jack.

No, not this one. (Tempting, but no. Besides, even if he HAD been the chosen Jack, I wouldn’t have been able to afford to keep him.)

This Jack.

Yep, he is an honest to goodness, real, live, guy.

I hope he won’t feel too offended that I can’t quite remember where exactly we met. I do know it was in an American bookshop. Possibly the Barnes & Noble at the Inner Harbour in Baltimore, Maryland.

I’m certain I can pinpoint it to a Friday afternoon. Circa 2004. I was probably dressed in the unflattering blue golf shirt I was forced to wear at my volunteer gig, which was conveniently located next to the bookshop. (The place’s proximity to the bookshop was the main reason why I took the job, to be honest. Because that awful outfit gave me second thoughts about volunteerism in the United States… Maybe they had assigned us such atrocious uniforms so that we could better sympathise with the abuse aimed towards the various species we were trying to protect?) So it was possibly during the summer then. But winter or summer, I’d be quite willing to bet my life on it that I had a Starbucks Grande Latté (with extra foam) in my other hand when I first stuck out my hand to greet him.

Jack and I spent the rest of that afternoon together over a few more coffees in the bookshop café, engrossed in… well, he certainly had MY rapt attention, even if the feelings weren’t mutual. (I didn’t mind, though. The one-sided nature of the relationship didn’t deter me at all.) In fact, I know it’s bold, but I was certain I had at last found The One.

Not to diminish my original love-at-first-glance, but in retrospect I actually think it was more a case of me - in a moment of desperation - believing that he would be the one to save me from myself. That he would be the guy to finally unleash my very best, most creative – and yes, while he was at it, would he mind attempting to unearth prettiest too? – Self.

(Yes, I’ve always been a dreamer.)

Whatever the intentions behind my initial feelings were, I took him home that very evening. Now, before you think I’m a right floozy, I couldn’t bear to run the risk of letting the likes of him slipping through my fingers.

I had already made that mistake once before, after all. With the absolute love of my life. But I digress…

As is typical of new romances, we were inseparable at first. As soon as I knew I had him though, I lost interest. (I refer to such moments of boredom as ‘staying in touch with my masculine side’. Every girl should do it! Seriously, I’ve found that we can actually be better at it than the guys!)

Would you believe that, after I left the States at the end of 2005, Jack actually followed me back to South Africa?

And he has not given up. From place to place, he has followed me. Relentless and loyal in his quiet pursuit, yet I can almost feel the reproach at being ignored radiating from him.

At times I would get so annoyed with him (and with myself for all the unkempt promises I’ve made which he represents) I’d stuff him back into the box with all the other How-to books about writing that I own.

But for some inexplicable reason, I’m always drawn back to him.

So it’s time. I’ve decided to, at long last, indulge him and fully devote myself to him. For an ENTIRE YEAR.

Here I am then, Mr. Jack Heffron, a copy of your “The Writer’s Idea Book” open before me yet again. (I almost feel as if I’m back at the tiny row house on Buena Vista Avenue in Baltimore, sitting at the round kitchen table with its blue-checkered tablecloth.) 

Over the next year, I vow to complete every single of the 400 writing exercises in this book on this blog.

Why? Because I’ve finally completely lost my mind?

Because I’m bored and I don’t have a life anyway so I might as well? And I’m paying a boat load of hosting for this blog, yet I’m too sentimental to let it go, so I might as well start writing here more regularly? 

Well, yes, perhaps a little of all of the above. But actually, the truth is more like this: I’ve finally realised that I can own all the How-to books in the world, but without any effort on my part, merely possessing it isn’t going to help me at all. 

Yes, my logic is absolutely astounding, isn’t it?

What can I say, I’ve always been a bit slow on the uptake.

So here I am. Bring it on, Mr. Jack Heffron and your “The Writer’s Idea Book”!

(I have a feeling I’m going to regret this…)