First of all, May the Fourth be with you.
It seems that fellow writers’ good wishes for distraction-free writing time have landed well, and the force is with me. Arriving at Sage Cottage on Tuesday, after an uneventful drive up, where even the cats didn’t complain too much, I settled down to a week of leisure. This was prompted by vanity because the sight in the mirror horrified me. A weatherbeaten face, I had the car windows down for much of the way, enjoying the feel of the wind on my face, having forgotten the effect it has on delicate older skin. The same wind blowing through my hair meant it looked like a haystack for many days after, instead of the sleek, smooth, and silky cap I usually have. I must take better care of myself, I resolved. Self-care, for me, means writing.
As some readers know, I’ve finished writing my novel. Let me correct myself. I’ve finished rewriting my novel. I have also rewritten the synopsis and the author bio. I now need to find a publisher or an agent. For this, I need more luck and good wishes.
In the meantime, reading never stops. Pan Macmillan India sent me two marvellous and exciting books from . One is Karen Jenning’s Crooked Seeds, told through the eyes of Deirdre, a white South African who has absolutely no charm. That’s all I know about it, and I can’t wait to find out more. The last book I read was also set on an island: This Other Eden by Paul Harding. Sorry, I’m comparing Karen Jenning’s The Island with This Other Eden. This Other Eden was heartbreaking in its portrayal of poverty, but the inhabitants of Apple Island have a wealth of natural beauty and the freedom to keep going. Based on a true story about Malaga Island, it cleverly shows how the law and governments let people down, especially if they are black or of mixed race. One poignant example is the juxtaposition of the authorities disdain for the incestuous offspring of the island with the stories of Noah’s Ark and the holier than thou who believe we all came from the same stock. There must have been incest, then, no? At least according to the Old Testament.
The second gift from Pan Macmillan India, which I started reading already, is Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar, which has blurbs that call the book stunning, wrenching, and so beautifully written that the reader kept forgetting to breathe. Can you blame me for diving right into this one?
Books waiting to be read are Code Dependent by Madhumita Murgia. I just dipped into it, believing I ‘should’ know about these things but was immediately drawn in by the skilled prose.
I also finished Zadie Smith’s The Fraud. I like to take a book at face value, so I rarely read anything about it before hand. I only found out at the end, in the acknowledgements, that the Tichbourne story is real and that all the characters have been brought back to life by Zadie Smith’s powerful pen. I took a long time to read this one, and it may have been because I didn’t want it to end.
The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years by Shubnum Khan is also set in South Africa (like Crooked Seeds) and is a fantastical Gothic romance set around an almost magical building called Akbar Manzil. And yes, there is a djinn. Shubnum has a lovely style of writing. I first came across her when I read How I Accidentally became a Stock Photo, again thanks to Pan MacMillan India.
There are two books from Harper Collins India I am excited to read. The first is And They Lived…Ever After: Disabled Women Retell Fairy Tales. I love the premise.
The second is by Neha Bhatt, whose handle is Indian Sex Therapist on Instagram. I have long followed her, fascinated by her out of the ordinary posts. I’m so delighted to hear Harper Collins India is bringing out her book, Unashamed that celebrates diversity, self-love and authentic human connections.
Next week, I plan to send my novel out, like a paper plane, into the forest of agents and publishers. Pray that it neither crashes nor boomerangs back but glides gently into the airport of some delighted publisher. Kay will leave the Kumaon for Delhi, with cats, and then, by train this time, for Kolkata, without cats.