— Summary: Ana has begun writing again. Her first project is an anthology of short mysteries that involves a young female security guard.—

It is the concise nature of the short story that always draws me in especially if it involves strange events or ends with a cliffhanger. The best is when it leaves me staring blankly, whispering, “What just happened?” Its limited format always forces me to imagine so much more. That is why I am starting the mysteries rolling with what I know first. That is, writing short stories.

However, unlike last time, the short stories will be put together into an anthology. My very first mystery anthology. Yes, I am excited about it!

So what is it about? The anthology consists of short mysteries involving a young female security guard on her first week on the job. It is also her first time working on the night shift. Yet instead of meeting her senior who is to teach her the routes, she is only guided by him through her walkie-talkie. And so, begins her nightly adventures at a women’s hostel, thus aptly codenaming this book project as “Project Guard”.

I am still at the Outline stage of the project. Still figuring things out and learning as I go. I might even change the whole premise! Truthfully, I am nervous and anxious about it because this is it. For the first time, I am truly writing for you, Teman. It is like the excitement yet apprehension of meeting a very precious friend after a long time apart. I want to make a good impression with a great gift, you see.

"Will you like it?" I wonder. Yes, I am feeling pressured to write this well.

“Project Guard” is actually inspired by my own personal experience living in a hostel. Back in the day, I usually had my door open when the nights were too warm. Once, while I was studying late, a security guard patrolled down the corridor. There had been several cases of thefts back then. He was making sure nothing happened. Yeah, in real life, nothing much happened.

He passed my open door. I greeted him then. “Good job, sir.”

“Thank you. Study hard. Selamat malam.” He nodded politely.

He was an elderly gentleman. So no, there was no romantic tension. But I did wonder then if he had experienced any strange sightings while on his night shift. And so, my overactive imagination prompted this anthology years later.

In the previous years, I had published my short stories like small gifts for you on Ditinta. It was a fun learning experience. Thank you so much, Teman, if you have enjoyed them here. But now, for a more enjoyable reading experience, I feel it is best to share my first anthology with you in an ebook format. I hope you will look forward to it.

I will keep you updated on Project Guard’s progress. And while you wait for its official book release, I hope you will continue to enjoy reading Ditinta with its many upcoming posts.

— Summary: Ana thinks it’s TMI but she still shares with you her writing space and her feelings that come with it. —

I write in a windowless store room. Its door has been removed for ventilation. The doorway is covered only by a piece of batik which is often pulled halfway down when privacy is needed. Truly a flimsy piece of barrier between my inner world and real life outside. I read, write and “socialise” in this tiny writing space. Within these four walls is where I hope the Ditinta Universe will flourish.

“That sounds weird. I’m going to look weird. Should I even share such details? It’s TMI, isn’t it?” Sometimes, I worry a lot.

Yes, I feel very vulnerable right now sharing such details with you, Teman. In real-life, I am a very private and quiet person. But I hope to connect better with you, Teman. A good enough reason for me to show you my sacred lair today. Below is the actual room which is originally a storage room, quite common in any HDB flat. Nobody uses it to live in. It is a small humbling space with only the bare essentials for an unknown writer like me. And, yes, it does get very warm in the afternoons. Singapore is a tropical island after all.


However, it was not such a humbling space for me in the past. Back then, I had a very "me” ego where I would write whatever stories I please. So what if the readers did not like them? So what if my stories did not make sense? It was good enough that I wrote and published it on Ditinta.

I was a writer, fanning my own ego.

It became a very lonely experience afterwards. Writing in this tiny room became suffocating. And soon, my selfish, ignorant self could not be inspired to write. I blamed this tiny space for my writer’s block. I needed a bigger room, one filled with books, a good computer with a good mechanical keyboard and many other things. Excuses after excuses because I was feeling lonely as a writer.

However, since last year, as things happened, as I changed my self-perspective, my writer’s ego shifted as well. Now, I approach this precious space with humility.

I have to make do with what I have first.

Even as I am still alone as I write, I am no longer lonely. To be a good writer, I must respect my readers. Now, I enter this room with you in my mind and heart, Teman. The thought of you waiting for me on the other side motivates me now. Within these four walls, I must keep writing until I reach “The End”. Here, I embrace my identity again as a writer.

And I humbly welcome you to our quaint little wonderland, this tiny writing space and Ditinta. Yes, it belongs to you too, Teman. To the both of us. Because it takes two for stories to flow.



P.S.
It's the Chinese New Year's holidays today and tomorrow in Singapore. I wish Happy Holidays to Teman who are celebrating the festivities. 🧧🐯 Enjoy your delicious pineapple tarts and love letters! Eat well, take care and stay safe, Teman!

— Summary: Ana finds her way back, giving it her all and choosing a genre for 2022. In other words, a sincere apology to Teman for the considerable hiatus. —


The break from the last blog entry was supposed to last only a few weeks.

It lasted three years.

It is 2022 now. This is my first post after three years of silence. Hello, Teman, brilliant readers of Ditinta. Do you even remember me? Did you even know me in the first place?

There were plenty of false restarts in 2019. So 2020 should be a good year for a fresh new beginning. But, alas, we all know what happened then. Despite being a true introvert, in every sense of the word, the social isolation damaged my mental health. I could not write or read. Nor did I feel alive. I had lost my sense of self. But then, I had already lost it a long time ago.

Still, I am apologetic mostly to you. I had forgotten that in writing, there is someone else on the other side too. I am sorry, Teman, for the years of silence.

— Summary: A series of arson were keeping the fire station on high alert. —


A nearby tree was engulfed in flames.

No second thoughts. She rushed out of the fire station with the extinguisher, ignoring the surprise gasp in the fire station. Just a small fire, she could handle it.

Pull pin, point hose and squeeze the lever.

Wait, there was no blazing heat.

— Summary: She thought the new soap might clean him better. —


He slapped her so hard that her left ear buzzed sharply. But she didn’t try to run. Fueled by her stupidity, he grabbed her thin neck. He squeezed it hard enough to make her scratch his hands. He let go.

She fell to her side, coughing hard, gulping down air like a fish out of water. The soap he had thrown away was on the floor by the door.