When you see a book, what is the first thing you do after reading the title? I heard you. You read the summary.
You read the summary because that is what we do. We judge it and feel like we know it based on the enticing feeling those two minutes of reading at the back cover gave us. Honestly sometimes, we read the summary because the book is closed and we do not have the approval to discover its pages or even visit the Table of Contents to know it a little more because we have this sign ‘Do not open.’
And after that, we believed that we know this book because we have read its summary.
It is accepted that the summaries of each book are the most heartwarming, enthralling, over the top conclusion of what is inside. This part egg on us to read the book. But sometimes, there will always be this one book that is a story you didn’t expect it to be.
These books are like people. This one book is me. And my summary doesn’t explain my entirety.
People see me as the she-got-it-all-you-go-girl type of person. Well, I don’t blame them. I wanted it to be that way. I made it to be that way.
But once and for all, I am not my summary. I am not just my summary.
I am like the first flicker of the flame, so hot and aggressive it is barely visible. I am like the infinities between 0 and 1, the 0.1, 0.12, 0.112 and so on. I am like a red fiery dress, passionate and warm and unable to be grasped between your fingers for the fear of burning.
It is scary and complicated and lonely to be a red flame infinity.
I wear daily smiles and purple hearts and a lot of people assume things about me because I entertain for the internet and they thought it is authentic. It is. I do anything for the sake of telling a good story but I hate talking about myself — that is why I don’t.
So there. I am not that summary, because if I ever wrote the truth at the back of my cover, people can’t handle it and no one would read me. I don’t want that to happen.
My pages are old and it is written in short hand language many of you won’t understand unless you try to learn me. Sometimes, I even make it easy for people to discover me by giving them pieces of myself through graphics and bold letters. Even just that, they can’t lever.
You know what I really wanted? Loyalty.
I want the loyalty of my readers that no matter how fucked up my chapters were and how I kept killing the main character of my story, they’ll still be there. Pissed but just there.
But I don’t have that. I can’t have that. I got a way different thing but also so similar.
So I created this prologue. And for the least, I was able to get a hold onto something.
Because of what I show to people, the things I do to make them read me and scan over my pages, the reason for them to sniff my old smell, is just the skin of my everything.
My readers respect me because of my title and my cover and yes, I could settle for that.
Yet, truthfully, I also want to be accepted. To be fully embraced by the majority not because of the chart topping best seller icon I have on my cover, but because of my content.
Some parts are a bit odd, no one would ever expect it was ever written on my book. Some parts inveigled me like the dark scenes, the supposedly sex scenes, the illegal and all of the drama. I do have a lot of that but some never knew. Because they never read.
People knew me because I am being sold worldwide that means I am pretty everywhere, present even on the top of their shelves. Yeah, I know that book!, they say.
Who am I to disregard? Of course I like that.
And yet, the longing for a reader to decipher me at 2 in the morning during my most vulnerable awakening, when my letters is an untidy heap, and when the font size of my language is just too small for anyone’s lack of complaint is all I could ever relish.
I have readers like that, they are my golden readers, but just as how a treasure a gold is, they come and go.
Heck. I don’t care at all. I am healthier now but I never love less the old smell of my outraged pages and how its rawness and uncertainty was tapered to a measure of an endless superfluity of erraticism.
That is why, my book ended up in a middl …….
(featured image taken from Google)