March 2009 Archives

Excitement! Excitement! My new children's fantasy novel, Shadowland, came out today! (For a description and excerpt, see www.chitradivakaruni.com). It is a stand alone book, but it's also the final novel in the Brotherhood of the Conch trilogy, a project I began in 2002--a long haul. I want to share with you a bit of the story of how all this came to be.

At that time I'd been writing for several years and had already published Arranged Marriage, Mistress of Spices, Sister of My Heart, Vine of Desire and my books of poetry. I was perfectly happy writing for adults and had no plans of venturing into children's literature. But something happened late in 2001 that changed my mind.

This was in the difficult days soon after 9/11, when as a nation we were grappling with tragedy and a sudden new feeling of vulnerability. A wave of hate crimes were sweeping the country, mostly directed towards people who looked "dangerous." The Indian American community was targeted, too--businesses vandalized, people beat up, lives lost.

I was in the parking lot outside our local grocery one evening with my seven year old son, just having finished shopping, when a couple of young men drove up in a truck. They yelled obscenities and told me to "go back where I came from," then roared off. I was speechless with fear and anger and an illogical sense of shame--the more so when my son asked me what had we done, and why those men had been so mad with us.

That night I lay in bed unable to sleep and thought about one of the main reasons I had started writing--that I believed it was a wonderful way to share my stories, my culture and the history of my people with readers who were Indian as well as those who came from other backgrounds. A good book dissolved boundaries between people and promoted understanding--of the self, and of those we might have labeled "other."

But now I saw that in some ways my work had been futile. I'd been preaching to the choir. People who picked up my books most probably were Indian--or already interested in other cultures . People like the men in the truck would never read any of my books. They had already closed their minds. I would never change the way they felt toward people like me.
 
That was the moment when I decided that I must write for children. I felt it was imperative to touch readers who still had the capacity to embrace the unknown and whose views of the world were still being formed. My hope for children of Indian origin was that if they saw themselves reflected in art, it would interest them in their culture and strengthen their sense of identity. My hope for children of other backgrounds was that they would come to love the Indian characters in the books and see parts of themselves reflected in them. Once you knew and loved people through books, wouldn't you be less suspicious when you met people like them in real life? Less inclined to look down on them or harm them?

I decided I would challenge myself by bringing  into each book characters who have been marginalized in some way. In the first book, The Conch Bearer, I focused on children who lived in the slums of Kolkata. In The Mirror of Fire and Dreaming,  many of the  characters were Muslim. In Shadowland, I show the plight of the "illegals," people without papers and thus without rights.

That's how it started, this  journey that today has led to the birth of Shadowland.

Some days back, Katherine Center, a writer friend, sent me the link to a book trailer she had created for her new novel, Everyone is Beautiful: http://katherinecenter.wordpress.com/2009/03/10/the-awesomest-thing-ever-ever-ever/, and of course, when I saw it, I wanted one, too--for both Palace of Illusions and for my new children's fantasy novel,  to be born in a week: Shadowland.

I wanted to find out what's involved, time, effort and money wise, and so I (what else!) googled the term and came up with all kinds of contradictory advice! Some say book trailers are amazing and attract readers like flies to sticky tape. Others say no one watches them except other writers who are planning to make their own book trailers.

In case you're an author considering making your own book trailer,
here's a good link: http://brendacoulter.blogspot.com/2007/06/promoting-your-novel-how-to-make-book.html

And if, like me, you are short on time and technological talent, here are two companies that I found that make book trailers for a good price:
http://www.cosproductions.com/ (starts at $300)
http://booktrailers.ning.com/profile/GhostwriterExtraordinaire (starts at $150)

Some of the trailers are for books that appear more commercial than literary, but I think if an author requested a more serious treatment, the companies could provide it.

So I wanted to ask you, dear readers: what are your experiences with book trailers? Have you watched any? Did they inspire you to find out more about the book? Do you think they are the up and coming thing for book promotion? Should I go for it?

I'd love to hear your opinion.If you've come across any good book trailers, I'd love to know of them.

Here are 2 book trailers I found on Youtube that I was intrigued by. The second one, particularly, created an atmosphere that I enjoyed.The third is of another writer friend, Abraham Verghese's wonderful new book, Cutting for Stone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43eIV2Kp3bs
http://www.trailerspy.com/trailer/2697/I-Still-Have-A-Suitcase-In-Berlin--Book-Trailer
http://www.amazon.ca/Cutting-Stone-Abraham-Verghese/dp/0307357775

Recently I was at the Google headquarters at Mountain View to give an Authors@Google talk (now up on You Tube, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPbSw5Yo2TA)--and I have to say, I was quite charmed. The "campus" is appropriately named. Watching numerous blue-jeaned young men and women ride their bikes (provided by Google) from one building to another, or pause their day's work to play a game of chess or frisbee, or walk their dogs (Google allows employees to bring pets to work; how cool is that?) took me back to my days at the University of California at Berkeley. There was the same air of intellectual curiosity, excitement at being on the cutting edge, mingling of cultures and high spirited iconoclasm. (I suspect Google has worked hard to create this attractive, quirky, anti-corporate atmosphere). But there was one significant difference. As my wonderful and witty guide Ross Peter Nelson pointed out, a hefty chunk of the under 30s crowd milling around us in the cafeteria were millionaires!

Ah, that cafeteria--one of several on the campus: it was like an "it's a small world after all," with stations serving dishes from China, Japan, India, Italy and others that I didn't even get to because my plate got over-full. There was a huge salad bar; there was a place for vegans; there was organic food (some of it grown right there on the Google premises) and a decadent desserts counter. And yes, folks: lunch is free. So are breakfast and dinner. Plus I'm told they do your laundry for you. (A brilliant move, actually, on the part of the founders, to reduce the hassles of daily living so their employees can pour more attention into their work). Munching on my delicious seaweed salad, I couldn't help fantasizing about how much more writing I could get done if only someone would do my laundry and cook my meals.

Seriously, though, Google has already helped my writing life immensely. Because of Google, my research has become exponentially easier and faster. Where before I would have to make  trips to the library and search the stacks, or go through newspaper archives on microfiche readers (remember those, folks?)  that I could never work properly, or request books through inter-library loans which would then take weeks to arrive, now I can just point and click.

Thanks for that, Larry and Sergey.

As some of you know, I was recently in Northern California as part of my paperback book tour for Palace of Illusions.  I didn't have much time between an afternoon event at Authors on Google and a reading at Bookshop Santa Cruz (a great, rambling independent store I want to just live in every time I visit it). But I made it a point to stop by at some of my favorite independent bookstores along the way, such as Keplers in Menlo Park, Books Inc. in Mountain View and Capitola Book Cafe, to sign books and say hello to the booksellers.

The atmosphere in each indie bookstore I've been in is unique and inviting in a special way. There are nooks to sit in and read, sometimes a cafe for a snack (Capitola Book Cafe has great sandwiches and quiches--I know, because I ate dinner there that night!) but most of all, dedicated, intelligent and well read booksellers who always have time to talk to you and recommend books. These people are there, sometimes battling economic odds, because of their love for books. They are the ones who often "discover" books by new, unknown writers and enthusiastically handsell them. That was certainly the case with my first book of stories, Arranged Marriage, which would have never made it onto the SF Chronicle bestseller list--and thus onto the radar of award committees--without their passionate support.

What was so heartwarming was that these booksellers remembered me even though I'd moved to Texas years ago. They'd say things like, "I remember every event you've done here--and I've been at all of them," or "I remember when you used to come in and ask for book recommendations, even before your first book was published."

In this day of shifting allegiances and relationships that are blurry with speed, that counts for a lot.

We're blessed here in Houston with 2 great independents: Brazos Books and Blue Willow Bookshop. They bring in the best authors from all over the country. I've read at both & I'm looking forward to doing an event at Blue Willow on March 30--so come if you're in the area.

Folks, I urge you to support your independent bookstore, if you're lucky enough to have one where you live. They are truly our national treasures--and an endangered species.

If you have a favorite bookstore, or a bookstore story, do write in and let us know.

Okay, here's the mango ice cream recipe that Karen had asked for. My children love this recipe, and as you'll see, it's amazingly easy.
Karen mentioned that she owns a mango farm, so I'm going to give you two versions of this recipe.
Take a half gallon of your favorite vanilla ice cream and leave it out on the kitchen counter until it softens.
Take six ripe mangoes, peel, seed, chop, and blend. When the mangoes are pureed, fold them into the ice cream. Pour into a plastic container with a tight-fitting lid (such as a Tupperware container) and freeze. It takes about 3 hours to freeze again.
Or, if you are in a city with an Indian grocery, buy a large can of mango pulp. Fold the pulp into the softened ice cream, and freeze as described above. (This is what I do, except in mango season).
You can serve this with a topping of chopped mangoes.
Did you know, there's supposed to be about a thousand varieties of mangoes that grow in India?

Mangoes remind me of my grandfather's home in our ancestral village, where he had a small grove of trees behind the house. In mango season, we were allowed to climb the trees and pick our own mangoes. Unfortunately, as a city-child who only visited on holidays, I was very bad at climbing trees and was forced to depend on my cousins' capricious goodwill for my mangoes. (Incidentally, they almost drowned me in the pond behind our house once, but that's another story.)

My mother claims she saw a ghost in the mango orchard one time, a woman who was picking mangoes after a storm, and who disappeared when my mother approached her. After I heard the story, I wished and wished I would see a ghost, too, but none appeared to me. I had to be satisfied with putting one into my novel, Sister of My Heart.

When I first came to this country, I was very homesick for India, for the tastes and smells of home. I was living in the Midwest then,  in a smallish town. Indian foods were rare. One day I remember walking into a grocery, and there was a pile of mangoes. They cost $3 each, which at that time, for a poor hourly-wage student like I was, was exorbitant. I bought one anyway.  I was so looking forward to eating it. But it turned out to be really sour.

One more mango story.  Early in our marriage, my husband Murthy and I went to Hawaii on vacation. On our last day, we came across a mango tree on a public road. It was full of mangoes, and many ripe ones had fallen to the ground. I picked up six of them to bring home. But at the airport I was told I couldn't carry any fruit back to the mainland. Murthy was ready to throw them away, but I refused. I sat there by the customs checkpoint and ate all six mangoes while the customs officers stared and Murthy pretended he didn't know who I was.

I hope you'll share some of your food memories with me.

So tonight is my very first author chat on my Facebook page--and all you amazing readers are warmly invited to participate! Here's the link: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Chitra-Banerjee-Divakaruni/123916900105.

Anyone who joins the page can take part in the chat.  Just post your comments & questions on the wall, and I'll answer. You'll have to be patient because I'm not the most tech-savvy person. (But my wonderful webmaster, Anirvan Chatterjee, founder of bookfinder.com, and his equally wonderful wife Barnali have assured me that I can do it.)

I owe Anirvan BIG thanks--he set up my website way back, when I didn't even know how important it was to have one & has maintained it with loving care ever since. He and Barnali helped hugely with setting up my Facebook page, including putting up the book cover photos, and he set up this blog as well and came up with the gorgeous golden Amer Fort image on top of the page. He's so modest/ethical that he won't even let me put a bookfinder link on my website, but folks, do check out the service: Jacqueline Deval, writer of An Insider's Guide to Getting Your Book the Attention It Deserves,  says it's the best book search service on the net.(p 221)

Deval's book is very helpful, by the way, filled with great ideas for writers.

The other day I read Malcolm Gladwell's The Outliers in my book club (I belong to one, too) & it made me think about how we owe our success to so many people. How much we have to be thankful for.

When I was in my 20s (yes, ancient history),  I was visiting The Divine Life ashram in Rishikesh, and Swami Krishnananda, a great monk, asked me, "What do you want in life?" At that time, independence was a big deal for me, so I said, "I want to never be dependent on anyone." He laughed and laughed, and when he stopped, he said, "My dear, you couldn't exist on this earth for one single moment if countless beings weren't supporting you."

As I grow older I understand the truth of what he said a little better. It certainly applies to whatever writing success I've achieved.

So many people have formed my "village."

My superb agent Sandra Dijkstra, the original power-lady, who performs her magic from out west in San Diego, ( I'm going to see her this weekend when I'm there on tour) and who's believed in me from the time I only had  3 stories.

My many perceptive editors, especially Barbara Jones, who's so patient and intelligent--she's working with me on One Amazing Thing. And Barbara, you've made the process at once fun and soul-searching.

Murthy, my most supportive husband, who takes over mommy duties when I go on tour. (Sorry, sweetheart, for saying "Do I tell you how to be an engineer?" when you offer suggestions about improving my writing.)

My sons, whom I call on for help of many kinds: ("Boys, what's a better word for..?"  "Boys, my computer screen just went BLANK!" "Boys, the dog has to be taken out--this instant!")

All my spiritual teachers, whom I mention in the acknowledgments in my books. I can't put into words what they've meant in my life.

My 85 year old mother who insists on living on her own in our ancestral village in Bengal and who taught me the meaning of self reliance.

My 84 year old mother in law, who has never said one mean thing to me, not once in the 29 years I've known her.

The great writers from whose books I've learned so much.

The list goes on.

And on that list is you, dear reader. Without you, how could I be an author at all?

Ok, you folks are really good at figuring out the quotations I've been putting into the blog, so here's a more difficult one: "It is only the story . . . that saves our progeny from blundering like blind beggars into the spikes of the cactus fence."

I'll give you 2 hints.
1. It's by an African writer--a really amazing one
2. I used the quote as an epigraph in one of my novels

Feel free to challenge me with your favorite quotations!