Why I finally gave in to the dark side and started posting book reviews on Amazon
I hate Amazon’s review system. I consider it a trash fire sitting on top of another garbage fire lit by trolls and paid reviews. The reasons are numerous. I dislike the 5-star system. It’s too simplistic and doesn’t offer the user an option to rate the Amazon delivery experience separately from the product experience. Thus, […]
Where do you belong to?: Homecoming and belonging in The Better Man
There she was, at the back of the shop, leaning against VS Naipaul. She’d travelled so far from her native place to reach mine. That we should meet here in my hometown just as I was trying to decide where to settle felt like more than kismet or fate. It felt like my own homecoming. […]
Review: Chain of Custody by Anita Nair
Of traffic and trafficking The cars on MG Road were traffucked, as usual. In the time it was taking for us to make the right turn, I could have walked to Bookworm. Despite my exasperated sighs and silent prayers of “God, please let the light change. I need to pee,” the light remained stubbornly […]
Rummaging around Anita’s Attic
I was terrified.
Of a book.
Not just any book. A book like A Fine Balance, for instance, which was so terrifying to me that I couldn’t make it more than a quarter way through. No, no, no.
This book was no literary tour-de-force.
This book was…
That’s right. My own book.
4 writers, 4 stories, 4 steps on my writing journey
As I watched the Write India video the other day, I teared up and realized I wanted to tell the stories of my stories, the lessons I learned, and express my gratitude for the Write India program.
How blue is my sapphire
I stand in front of Diana’s bench. It’s my bench now. I’m a Diana, too. Not the Diana, of course, but that’s my name nonetheless. For me, this monument to love resembles nothing of the kind. It’s just a pile of rocks, crumbling after centuries of abuse and neglect.
The mysterious case of the commercial literary fiction writer
But, what is literary fiction? Even experienced writers often have difficulty defining this genre. It’s like porn. You know it when you see it, but ask someone to define it, and they either can’t or won’t.