Anuradha D. Rajurkar's Blog, page 2
March 18, 2021
The Flicker of a Smile
for Teen Librarian Toolkit
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“You wrote a whole book?” she asked. Eight-year-old Mia* and I were at our customary spot at the little round table in my math support classroom where we worked together three times a week. We had recently begun meeting one-on-one rather than in a small group with Mia’s peers, and it was working: instead of timidly twisting a tissue under the table with her delicate brown hands and hanging back, on her own she was happy, focused, engaged. She was making huge gains.
On that particular day, Mia and I had been talking about grit and perseverance, and she’d just learned that my debut novel, American Betiya, was going to be published. Her excitement was palpable; she bounced in her seat. “Is your book funny?”
“Yes. I made sure to make it funny.”
Her deep brown eyes sparkled impishly. Rolling a couple dice we’d been using in her hands, she asked, “What’s it about?”
Ah, the dreaded question. How to explain the heart of my #ownvoices upper YA book about first love, family boundaries, and the complications of a cross-cultural relationship to a third grader? Or to anyone, for that matter?
“It’s about love, friendship, and family,” I say finally. “And how when people don’t see each other’s points of view, there can be a lot of hurt feelings.” I stop, suddenly uncertain. This went dark fast.
But she sat forward. “Oh, so there is, like, fighting in your book?”
“Some,” I admit. “Mainly it shows how even with people you love, sometimes you have to fight for who you are.”
She gazed at me a moment, this wise-beyond-her-years girl who has gone from skulking uncertainly to bounding happily into my classroom, brightening my day every time. “What if you don’t know who you are yet?”
“That’s a big part of the book,” I said. “Figuring out who you are.”
She considered this. “And you said it’s also funny.”
“Yep. There’s a lot of silliness with friends,” I said, watching a slow smile spread across her face. “A book can be funny and serious, happy and sad, right?”
“Yeah.” She studied me. “Those are actually my favorite kinds of books.” She set down the dice and grabbed a handful of rubber teddy bear counters. “You know The Watsons Go to Birmingham?”
I looked at her, genuinely stunned. “How did you know that’s one of my favorite books of all time?”
“What?! Mine too!” she crows happily. “It’s got everything in it.” She begins arranging the bears into a circle. “Like yours.”
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Working with students, especially those from underrepresented communities, reminds me of why I wrote American Betiya. On its surface, it’s a story about breaking from social and family expectations, first love, and learning to embrace the beauty of your cultural identity amid your search for love and belonging. But it’s also a story about feminist allyship, and learning to become an upstander for yourself in the face of specific kinds of microaggressions—the kinds that arise in places we least expect. As my main character Rani hurtles headfirst into her quest for love while her often charming boyfriend behaves in questionable ways, the story reveals how true first love is your own sense of dignity—one that is sculpted messily over time.
Amid the widespread “love conquers all” narrative so common in young adult literature, I hoped instead to explore the way our cultural identities intersect with love, personal boundaries, and respect.
Usually, when we think of racism, we imagine hate crimes, strangers yelling slurs, and perhaps the reality of systemic racism. But managing racism and patriarchy in our closest relationships are nuances that are just beginning to arise in our cultural conversation. Working with Mia both in a small group versus individually reminded me that microaggressions in our daily relationships—sometimes even our closest relationships—are so challenging because of the faith you have placed in them. The trust you have in them. Having watched Mia navigate her complicated surroundings reminded me of what I had always wished I had had more of growing up: More allies in the face of microaggressions. A stronger sense of myself as I learned to embrace my own sense of identity. And stories about the same that told me I wasn’t alone.
I was late joining the small group of students in my room that included Mia. The students were already at the table, eating their snacks, and I overheard one student—a girl who presented at times as being a friend of Mia’s— mocking the snack Mia had brought, one that was specific to her culture. On the spot, we discussed how that kind of a comment makes people feel, how foods from different cultures are actually really cool, and I shared my personal favorite snack foods—samosas and chaklis. As we moved on to the math lesson, Mia was quiet, but I noticed that she participated more than usual. I even saw the flicker of a smile.
At eight, Mia already knew a lot about fielding microaggressions, bias, and stereotyping. She already knew what it was like to try to seek belonging in a predominantly white learning community that didn’t always value the ways she was different. She knew the stress and exhaustion of self-advocacy. She’s experienced how racism can come from anywhere, even those close to you. She recognizes that sometimes, staying silent is self-preservation, and yet how an ally stepping in can turn everything on its head.
When we were together—both BIPOC females in a predominantly white institution—my classroom became a newfound safe space for both of us. Over the months I got to work with her, I admired her resilience, her quiet tenacity, her grit. Her teacher eventually shared that Mia was slowly coming into her own in class, opening herself up to her peers in a way that felt like small progress. She taught me, in her quiet way, all about grace.
Mia and I shared a love for stories about characters from diverse cultures who experience the joys and challenges of growing up nonwhite in America. We both love characters that embrace their identity while discovering spaces that are imbued with a warm sense of belonging, of laughter. That genuine feeling of love.
I hope that when she’s old enough to read it, she finds all of that and more in American Betiya.
I hope it makes her proud.
*All names and personal details have been changed for privacy.
Anuradha D. Rajurkar is the recipient of the nationwide SCBWI Emerging Voices Award for her YA contemporary debut, American Betiya (Knopf). Born and raised in the Chicago area to South Asian immigrant parents, Anuradha earned two degrees from Northwestern University, and for many years had the joy of being a public school teacher by day, writer by night. Nowadays, when she’s not writing or reading, Anuradha spends her time hiking through forests with her husband, obsessing over her garden, watching old horror flicks with her sons, eating too many baked yummies, or roguishly knitting sweaters without their patterns. She hopes her stories will inspire teens to embrace their unique identities and inner badass despite outside pressures and cultural expectations. American Betiya is her first novel.
Add AMERICAN BETIYA on Goodreads here
Pre-order AMERICAN BETIYA here
About American Betiya
A luminous story of a young artist grappling with first love, family boundaries and the complications of a cross-cultural relationship. Perfect for fans of Sandhya Menon, Erika Sanchez and Jandy Nelson.
Rani Kelkar has never lied to her parents, until she meets Oliver. The same qualities that draw her in—his tattoos, his charisma, his passion for art—make him her mother’s worst nightmare.
They begin dating in secret, but when Oliver’s troubled home life unravels, he starts to ask more of Rani than she knows how to give, desperately trying to fit into her world, no matter how high the cost. When a twist of fate leads Rani from Evanston, Illinois to Pune, India for a summer, she has a reckoning with herself—and what’s really brewing beneath the surface of her first love.
Winner of SCBWI’s Emerging Voices award, Anuradha D. Rajurkar takes an honest look at the ways cultures can clash in an interracial relationship. Braiding together themes of sexuality, artistic expression, and appropriation, she gives voice to a girl claiming ownership of her identity, one shattered stereotype at a time.
ISBN-13: 9781984897152
Publisher: Random House Children’s Books
Publication date: 03/09/2021
Age Range: 12 – 17 Years
*All names and personal details have been changed for privacy.
January 2, 2021
Good News for the New Year!
Happy New Year, friends! I hope you enjoyed saying goodbye to the highly troublesome 2020 and found special ways to welcome in 2021! Hoping this year will be filled with so much beauty, compassion, and brighter days.
In the spirit of that, on January 1st, Kirkus published its review of AMERICAN BETIYA!
Honestly, I’m so glad I didn’t know that Kirkus Reviews is known to be not so easy to please, and that a strong review from them is a precious thing indeed—many librarians, booksellers, and teachers look to Kirkus when deciding which books to stock. I would have stressed out and made myself nuts waiting for their verdict, but was joyfully surprised instead. Check it out below!
An interracial teen romance that unflinchingly tackles racism and patriarchy.
AMERICAN BETIYA
BY ANURADHA D. RAJURKAR ‧ RELEASE DATE: MARCH 9, 2021
When Indian American 18-year-old Rani catches tattooed art student Oliver checking her out, she thinks she must be imagining it; boys haven’t been romantically interested in her.
Even though Rani’s traditional Indian immigrant parents have made it clear that she is not allowed to date, when Oliver, a White boy, asks her out, she says yes, launching herself into what feels like a perfect high school romance. Even Rani’s cynical best friend, Kate, approves of the relationship—an endorsement that helps Rani convince herself that sneaking around with Oliver is worth it. But as the two grow closer, and as Oliver’s troubled family life spirals out of control, he begins to ask more from Rani than she is able to give and to exhibit troublingly racist attitudes and behaviors that Rani finds increasingly difficult to ignore. Eventually, she finds herself struggling to balance the demands of Oliver and her parents, all the while trying to be true to herself. Rani demonstrates greater awareness of intersectionality in a U.S. context than she does of her status in regard to her family's high-caste Hindu identity, perhaps reflecting her upbringing within a tight immigrant social circle. Rani and Oliver’s passion is well written, and Rani’s spirited and honest voice authentically leads readers through the challenges and thrills of an interracial and cross-cultural teen romance. This heartbreaking love story is a strong debut and an entertaining read.
An interracial teen romance that unflinchingly tackles racism and patriarchy. (Fiction. 14-18)
Pub Date: March 9, 2021
ISBN: 978-1-984897-15-2
Page Count: 368
Publisher: Knopf
Review Posted Online: Dec. 15, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: today
Categories: TEENS & YOUNG ADULT FICTION | TEENS & YOUNG ADULT FAMILY | TEENS & YOUNG ADULT SOCIAL THEMES
Pre-order your copy here:
https://bookshop.org/books/american-b...
It's been incredibly humbling to have people begin reading AMERICAN BETIYA, and then leaving gorgeous reviews of it on NetGalley and Goodreads. Those reviews are just as awe-inspiring and meaningful to me as this one by Kirkus, because they reflect the voices of my readers. This is me trying not to cry after reading a particular special review:)
Wishing you so much joy and love in the new year,
Anuradha
December 24, 2020
Fun and Magic
When I was a teen, I was obsessed with making collages. You know the kind, where you spend way too much time searching through old magazines, cutting out letters and images to spell out inside jokes, and gluing everything alongside photos on tagboard? It was the 80’s cheap version of scrapbooking, and I loved it.
As the holidays approached, my friends and I would spend hours leisurely assembling collages as gifts, our fingers sticky with Elmer’s glue and the sweet candy canes we ate, The Grinch or A Charlie Brown Christmas in the background. We’d break by improvising dances, lip-synching to songs like “Respect” or “Walking on Sunshine.” I was deemed a quintessential romantic teeny bopper for my enthusiasm, especially around the holidays, but I was cool with that: The holidays were about fun and magic, and I was there for all of it.
The weather turning cold meant more time with friends and family: from our South Asian family friends who lived all across the Chicagoland area, to the friends I met through school, who were mainly Jewish or Christian. My family would celebrate Diwali in the fall, and then, the following month and in a secular way, Christmas. We’d decorate our sweet, fake little Christmas tree, take the elevated train downtown Chicago to see the city twinkling in holiday lights, and, once, caroled with the neighbors. On Christmas morning, my sister and I would open a present or two, and, with It’s a Wonderful Life on television, my mom would prepare a feast that ranged anywhere from Lobster Thermador to Beef Stroganoff to an Indian vegetarian thali.
My parents were part of the early wave of non-European immigrants to the United States. They arrived in America in 1969 thanks to the newly established Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965, fought for by our Black sisters and brothers during the Civil Right Movement. Despite life in the U.S. being so new, my young parents managed to offer my sister and I a gourmet blend of cultures, free of bitter judgment or shame for taking to one tradition more than another. They presented the united belief that all traditions have elements of joy, light, and community, and we were invited to take part in and appreciate all of them.
Diwali, the South Asian holiday known as the Festival of Lights, represents the overcoming of good over evil, inner light over spiritual darkness, and for many South Asians, it’s as massive a celebration as Christmas is for Christians. I heard how in India, clay diyas light up clean, jasmine-infused homes, fireworks go off in the streets and on rooftop terraces, triumphant parades spill into the streets, doorsteps are decorated in colorful rangoli, and lavish meals are shared with friends and family. It’s a celebration rooted in Hindu mythology and spirituality. Though we’d visit India over many summers, only once had we been there during Diwali season, when I was five, so I’d never actually experienced Diwali this way. In the Midwest, Diwali meant time with our South Asian family friends: the teens would maybe perform a classical Indian song together on a stage at a jam-packed hall in a faraway suburb, or take part in a short puja in someone’s warm and cozy home after which we’d have a huge Indian potluck meal, giggling over our latest crushes. Diwali, like Christmas, was a different brand of fun, togetherness, and joy that I adored, and to me, felt more social than cultural.
The other day, I stumbled across an old collage in the form of a spiral bound book in the basement. It was a gift I made for my husband back when we were dating in college (yes, my passion for collages reached well into my university days), and it was complete with private jokes and swoony photos of us falling in love. Amid the flurry of raising our two kids and juggling our jobs and my writing, this book of collages reminded me of the ways I pieced together traditions as I grew up, left home, and tried to create new traditions still for my own growing family. In the small Midwestern suburb where we now live, we attend Christmas cookie exchanges, seders, happy hours and block parties with our diverse group of neighbors. When they were little, we read our kids books about Diwali, and we still light diyas along our walkway and sparklers in the backyard with the South Asian friends we met when we moved here years ago. Flipping through that collage, I wondered if there is such thing as a singular culture. It struck me, the ways we are part of something more textural and colorful, like the letters cut with care from magazines, letters that articulate all that’s personal, handmade, and unique about us individually, about us together.
I now write stories about teens finding their way across cultures, amid love and heartache, friends and family, dreams and betrayals. And here’s the hopeless romantic in me: I believe it all began with those collages. They tapped my creativity, helped me connect different traditions and people into a kind of beautiful mess that, at its core, is about connection, love, and yes, stories.
Teeny bopper or no, all that fun and magic added up to something after all.
Wishing you all love and joy,
Anuradha
April 15, 2020
Interview with Adiba Jaigirdar, #Roaring20sdebut Author of THE HENNA WARS
What is The Henna Wars about?
The Henna Warsis about Nishat, who is a Bangladeshi Muslim lesbian. When she decides to come out to her parents, they react by shutting her out and rejecting her sexuality. She turns to henna, which is important to her because she learned it from her grandmother. When a school business competition starts up, Nishat decides to start a henna business, but so does her crush Flávia, whose culture doesn’t include henna. So, Nishat is stuck between her feelings of rejection from her parents, her resentment towards Flávia because she’s culturally appropriating henna, along with her growing crush on her.
The Henna Warsis an #ownvoices novel. Did you find it challenging to write the #ownvoices aspects of it?
Definitely! Writing an #ownvoices story can be challenging in many ways. It means having to delve into your own experiences, or the experiences of people that you know, which can be really difficult to do. Some of the things that Nishat had to deal with in the course of the novel definitely had roots in my own experiences.
With #ownvoices novels, there’s also a lot of pressure. There aren’t a lot of novels out there about Bangladeshi teens (I think at the time of me writing this there are exactly 2 traditionally published YA novels about Bangladeshi teens, not including The Henna Wars), and even fewer about queer Bangladeshi Muslim teens. Sometimes, it can feel like you have to tell thestory, or you have to be thevoice, simply because there are so few stories and so few voices telling those stories. Of course, it’s impossible to write a story representative of everyone in your community, but I definitely felt a lot of pressure as I was writing. I thought a lot about the kind of representation I was putting down, whether it would be considered good or bad, whether it would be criticised for not being enough or for being one way and not the other. But at the end of the day, you can only write the kind of story and characters that feel the most authentic toyou!
Which of the characters was the most challenging to write?
The most challenging character was definitely Chyna. She is the antagonist of the novel, and she is very entangled in the lives of both Nishat and Flávia. She has personal connections and history with them both. It was challenging to be able to write her as more than just a straightforward antagonist, and to present her as someone who some of the characters have warm feelings toward, and some of the characters really detest.
There is a sister relationship at the center of The Henna Wars. What was the inspiration behind that?
I grew up surrounded by a lot of family in Bangladesh, and I have a lotof cousins. This has included siblings who seemed joined at the hip, siblings who are at each others’ throat, and every variety in-between. Bangladeshi couples rarely have only one child—so I have seen a lot of different sibling dynamics in my life. When I started writing The Henna Wars, I knew that Nishat needed to have a sibling. I thought about some of the sisters that I knew in real-life, including to some extent my own sister, and modelled a relationship that was built on those. Nothing that’s reflective of only one relationship (my sister and I are absolutely nothing like Nishat and Priti—she was kind of annoyed about this after reading the book, haha), but that’s inspired by all of the complex and dynamic relationships I have observed.
What advice would you give to someone looking to write a romcom for the first time?
First of all, writing a romantic comedy is difficult because both romance and comedy can be so personally and culturally specific. For example, the kind of romance that I grew up seeing in my culture is very different from the kind of romance that we often see in Western culture. In the same way, the comedy in America is really different from the comedy style in Ireland.
I think once you realise that you can’t cater to everybody’s preference for romance or comedy, writing a romcom becomes a lot easier. The most important thing is to find the kind of romance that feels specific to your characters, and the kind of comedy that makes sense for them.
I would also advise someone wanting to write a romcom, to watch and read a lot of romcoms. Study the kind of tropes that often show up, and figure out how you can take some of these tropes and make them resonate with your characters and your story. I love romcom tropes, but it’s important to bring something original to the tropes as well!
What are some of your favourite romcoms?
I love basically anything by Sandhya Menon, but my favourite book by her is From Twinkle, With Love, which is about an Indian-American teen who loves films. I also love To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han, which really doesn’t need an introduction, does it? I recently read You Should See Me In A Crown by Leah Johnson which was a really fun queer romcom centering around prom. I was also lucky enough to read an early copy of More Than Just A Pretty Faceby Syed M. Masood, which was a really funny and charming romcom about a Pakistani-American Muslim teen.
January 31, 2020
Rani's journey will speak to anyone who's ever had to fight to uphold their cultural identity--one stereotype at a time.
Fans of Sandhya Menon, Erika Sanchez and Jandy Nelson will identify with this award-winning novel of a young artist’s forbidden, intercultural first love, her close-knit Indian family, and her boyfriend's desperate attempts to fit into it--no matter the cost.
Rani Kelkar has never lied to her parents, until she meets Oliver. The same qualities that draw her in—his tattoos, his charisma, his passion for art—make him her mother's worst nightmare.
They begin a torrid, secret love affair, but when Oliver's troubled home life unravels, he starts to ask more of Rani than she knows how to give. Just when their relationship is tested by a shocking betrayal, a family tragedy draws Rani to India for a summer. There, she gains perspective on what it means to be true to herself and what that means for her and Oliver.
Winner of the national Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Emerging Voices award, Anuradha Rajurkar takes an honest look at how cultural differences can transmute an interracial relationship into something unrecognizable as love. Rani's journey will speak to anyone who's ever had to fight to uphold their cultural identity--one stereotype at a time.
Insider Secrets to Publishing Your First Novel
Insider Secrets to Publishing Your First Novel
Hi Friends! I’m often asked details about my publication journey, and thought it might be helpful to share, for those of you curious or who may benefit from my mistakes—ahem—experiences. They might help you! Maybe?
American Betiya took many years to write, amid teaching and family and just…life. Its early draft clocked in at 165,000 words—approximately twice the appropriate length for a young adult novel. (My long-suffering writing group and beta reader read and critiqued every page of that lengthy draft, so an ode to them is long overdue).
If there’s one thing I’d stress regarding publishing the traditional route, it’s this: Once you’ve done all the things to get your manuscript ready for others, it’s not cocky or audacious or delusional to apply for awards or query top literary agents when seeking representation —it is, in fact, the logical next step!
So let me give you a sneak peek into the torturous—I mean, exhilarating world of publishing. For starters, what exactly do I mean by all the things…?
Read widely, including outside of your genre, and write daily I know this isn’t earth-shattering news, but it’s amazing how much you learn by reading great works while settling into a writing practice that works for you (that includes consistency). Read and study strategies used by the author, including voice, characterization, narrative arc, etc. Create reading and writing goals for yourself—and hold yourself accountable to them.
Join national writing organizations. Organizations like the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) are amazing resources for writers. Research which organization fits your needs/genre, become a member, attend conferences to learn from and connect with publishing professionals, and meet other writers. Everything began for me once I joined SCBWI. So change out of your pj’s, leave your house, and talk to other humans about writing. It’ll make you stronger.
Join/organize a writing group…and meet regularly. I happened upon a fantastic local writing group by serendipity: At a Coffee & Kids gathering at the local church, I befriended a wonderful woman, Lauren Fox, who unbeknownst to me, was secretly working on a novel. When she learned that I, too, was secretly working on a novel, she invited me to join her writing group, and the rest was history. (See what can happen when you leave your house?) My writing group has been meeting for over a dozen years now, once monthly at a coffee shop, where we give constructive feedback on each other’s pages (no more than 15 per person, sent ahead of time through email). The group is wonderful—supportive, thoughtful, brilliant—and one of my favorite things about being a writer.
Before sending it out to agents/awards, ensure that your manuscript reflects your best work. That means not just copyediting, but having many others read and critique it for characterization, structure, and pacing. Here’s the painful part—be sure to revise it based on that feedback. Your manuscript is representing you, so top quality is key—and you need others to tell you how to improve it. Following the advice of my critique partner, I whittled American Betiya down to 84,000 words (oof), revised the story from past tense to present tense (ugh), and finally submitted it to the national Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Emerging Voices Award (ahhhh!), a recognition created to support writers from diverse backgrounds. Which brings me to my next point…
Apply for writing awards/grants Look up regional and national ones. I’d never applied for awards before—I was too busy writing a double-sized book, apparently—but I needed a deadline, and felt that American Betiya might just fit what the SCBWI award committee was looking for. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured…why not me? If, in the slim chance I win, what better way to stand out in the query slush pile? Getting the call that my manuscript did indeed win was one of the most shocking, memorable, and game-changing moments of my life. Do your research, and if your piece fits what they are looking for, then what the freakin’ freaks are you waiting for? Apply already!
Register for a Publisher’s Marketplace Membership For $25 a month, you have access to the updated list of the top agents in each literary category, their recent book deals, and hard numbers related to these deals. You can easily discontinue the membership once you land with an amazing agent, but until then: This access helps you determine which specific agents to research, ensuring that they would be a good fit to represent you and your work.
Create a list of agents to query. Scan the acknowledgments page of the novels you love/feel are similar to yours in order to discover the agents behind those titles. Check out Twitter’s #MSWL, and learn about the kinds of stories specific agents are looking for will help you finetune your list of whom to query. Include a mix of agents—those that are top agents, but also those newer agents looking to build their lists. These “young-and-hungry” agents can be wonderful in that they have more time to devote to you and your manuscript, and some of the most insightful feedback came from these newer agents—agents who rejected me but whose spot-on feedback I utilized to tweak both my query letter and my first 10 pages before querying others. Aim for a list of 10-12 agents to start.
Get that query letter in top form. A query letter is designed to grab the attention of an agent, so pitch the premise of your book with the aim of highlighting what makes your book stand out. You also want to be sure to tailor each query letter to the agent, mentioning why you chose them: an online interview you’d read, what ways the stories they’re seeking align with yours, etc. Also, be sure to include word count, plus some comparative titles to give the agent an immediate sense of your story.
Join Query Tracker. This is a wonderful, free online resource that allows you to track where your query is located in the agents’ queue of bazillion other queries. This means that after sending your query to an agent, you can stalk them quietly as you wait without feeling like a freak—hell, it’s literally designed for stalking where the agents are in their reading/responding process, so no guilt whatsoever!
Anyway. Above are the steps I followed before I ended up receiving three offers of representation from top agents! It was amazing (and also, um, super stressful to choose one, but that’s a post for another day).
The most important thing, I believe, is to write your story, the one you wish you had had to help you navigate this beautiful, heartbreaking world. Write the stories that scare you, the ones from the darkest corners of your heart, or the ones that enlighten us amid their levity. The world is waiting, and we need you, so get flying. (Speaking of flying...the above image is a painting by the amazing Saqiba Suleman.)
I’d love to hear from you! Post below any questions, or suggestions on anything you’d like to read about in future posts.
All my best,
Anuradha
December 23, 2019
The Good, the Bad, and the Scary: Taking Risks in Your Writing
When I was in my teens and twenties, I was obsessed with bold, cutting-edge haircuts. Short, piecey, layered works of art that always required a lot of blow-drying, product, and maintenance. Never mind that these sassy cuts didn’t really suit my face or lifestyle. Or that my hair back then was straight and thin and therefore required an unnatural boost, usually in the form of perms (UGH). As a grown adult who can no longer deal with high maintenance hair, I’ve stared at old photos in the past and wondered: What was I doing?
Today as a writer, it dawns on me: it was the risk that drew me. What easier way to indulge in risk than a cool cut?
I loved the sense of possibility as I perused magazines in search of that funky new style. I loved the rush of sitting in the hairdresser’s chair with fragrant, salon-washed hair, my heart hammering as the shears snipped away my locks. I once chased down a woman in the street to inquire who cut her hair, so smitten I was by its funky, irreverent style. Now that I think of it, the process of getting a new haircut had all the makings of a great story: intrigue, bravery, falling in love, reimagining, a reckoning with identity…
Taking risks is actually a huge part of being a writer. Each time you sit down to write, you are taking a risk. You risk seeing your deepest thoughts splayed out on the page. You risk feeling. You risk the reality of exploring everything dark and honest that burns within you. You risk others observing and judging that honesty, that darkness, those inner truths. You risk letting people into your heart.
Writing AMERICAN BETIYA definitely felt risky. It’s a story that I wrote at first for myself, one that challenges preconceived ideas about immigrants and the diaspora, sexuality, stereotypes, and identity. It is also the book I wished I had when I was a teen.
Now that I’m in its revising and editing stage, it’s transforming from a piece written for myself to one written for you. I can’t wait to introduce you to the fictional world of Rani, her family, and Oliver—one I hope will resonate with you.
In the writing of AMERICAN BETIYA, I’ve utilized the insights of my amazing editor and her assistant at Knopf, my stellar writing group, and several thoughtful sensitivity readers. All offered different queries and perspectives. All encouraged me to further examine my motivations, the responsibility of cultural representation (which I will explore in an upcoming post), and the nuanced themes filtering through this story. All have encouraged me to continue taking risks in my writing.
Risk-taking in your creative pursuits can be terrifying and filled with angst, but is also a straight up dopamine-flooded rush. Pushing past perceived boundaries—whether content-wise or style-wise— underscores what’s really happening beneath the surface of your personal experiences. Risk-taking in your work reveals your hopes, your fears, your pain, your joy, your redemption. It means producing pieces that are iconoclastic and fresh, and founded in personal truths.
So I advise that you take risks in your creative endeavors. Dig deep. And if that sounds too terrifying and you need to go baby steps, maybe start with a hip new haircut.
Happiest of holidays to you,
Anuradha
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November 6, 2019
Connecting with Jacqueline Woodson, Author of RED AT THE BONE
“Iris.
She had just turned twenty-five and was living on the Upper West Side in an apartment owned by the parents of some friend from Oberlin. A pied-a-terre they’d abandoned for full time life in Florida.
What the fuck’s a pied terre, Iris? What the hell are you talking about?
Pied-a-terre. An extra apartment. She gave him that how can you not know this look that burst into shame inside his chest.”
--conversation between Iris and Aubry, main characters from Red at the Bone
I had the opportunity last month to hear acclaimed author Jacqueline Woodson at Boswell Books speak about her new book, Red at the Bone. Hearing her read aloud from her latest, I was reminded of Another Country by James Baldwin, the book and author that first inspired me so many years ago to become a writer. Woodson’s prose, like Baldwin’s, reflects such a deep love and understanding of the human heart. I learned that Baldwin was actually one of Woodson’s earliest influences, in addition to Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and Langston Hughes.
Woodson told us: “The idea of generational wealth within communities of color [helped inspire this book]. What does it mean when economic classes collide? There is a deep shame to being poor, and a deep shame to being wealthy. I hoped to investigate the intersectionality of it.” This statement struck a personal chord: I, too, explore this theme in my upcoming novel, American Betiya.
The impact of a couple’s differing socio-economic backgrounds on their budding first love is woven throughout American Betiya. Protagonist Rani and her boyfriend Oliver come from not just different cultural backgrounds, but socio-economic ones as well. My story traces how their differences both deepen and darken their relationship over time. I rushed home with my newly signed copy of Red at the Bone, and studied Iris and Aubry’s relationship as I read, seeking strategies on how she manages their complicated journey with such fluidity.
Woodson excavates deep truths within a relationship between two people from vastly different worlds who find themselves forever connected by a teenage pregnancy. I was blown away by this book. It is heartbreaking, honest, and so sensitively rendered. Woodson has a gift for drawing the reader in, getting us to care about her characters with profound immediacy. Her prose is poetic while also somehow staying accessible, and her characterization is pitch-perfect: Aubrey is a character I will never forget. I love how she manages to weave history into the plot, incorporating the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, where mobs of white residents attacked black residents and businesses of the economically booming Greenwood District in Tulsa, Oklahoma (also known as “Black Wall Street”). Throughout the novel, she utilized intergenerational points of view, ending with a blindsiding twist that took my breath away.
Red at the Bone also touches upon intergenerational trauma—the idea that different types of trauma can be passed from generation to generation in some way. This concept is also handled in American Betiya: My protagonist, Rani, finds her daily life impacted by the past history and struggles of her parents and grandparents. Their immigrant experiences and traumas bleed into Rani’s daily life and colorwash her teen world, including her burgeoning love. Anyway, go read Red at the Bone. It will transform you.
So grateful to have had the opportunity to learn from this legendary author. Hearing her speak jumpstarted new ideas regarding the writing process, reading like a writer, how to connect kids to specific titles that will resonate (an issue especially close to my heart as a mom and educator), and so much more—all of which I’ll be sharing with you in upcoming months. That second picture is me getting lost in Red at the Bone right after Woodson's talk while wearing a shirt that matched the cover of her book (not planned, but I mean…)!
I’d love to hear from you! What authors/makers have you seen lately whose work and wisdom got your creative hum humming?
September 11, 2019
Society of Children’s Book Writer’s and Illustrators (SCBWI) Emerging Voices Award!
Just before my birthday last year, I learned that my debut manuscript, AMERICAN BETIYA, had just won the national Society of Children’s Book Writer’s and Illustrators (SCBWI) Emerging Voices Award! This is definitely my most prized bookish possession yet. I was shocked and overjoyed that this crazy book I’ve been writing for so long was finally wrapped up, sent off, and WON this amazing national recognition (along with fellow winner, Lakita Wilson!) WHATTT??
The prize led to multiple incredible agents offering representation, signing with the best one for me, a book deal with my dream editor & pub house, being flown to LA for the SCBWI LA conference for the award ceremony, and having an invaluable consultation with the brilliant #tweetpathi. To say I was stunned and honored is an understatement. Deep in edits on the manuscript now, I keep close the wonder of this award, humbled by how much it still means to me.
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The Inspiration for AMERICAN BETIYA
Years ago, I set out to write the kind of story I’d wished for as a teen: one that detailed an interracial love in all its beauty and honest complications, one that featured an ambitious Indian American teenager and her first-generation immigrant family…one that would feel fierce and unvarnished. After some tinkering, self-doubt, and false starts, I wrote a short story whose title was simply “Beginnings.”
“Beginnings” would be the story that, thanks to the encouragement of my fabulous writing group, was a true beginning: I’d flesh it out over the span of several years into what is now titled AMERICAN BETIYA (pronounced BAY-tee-uh, meaning “daughter” in Marathi). A young adult contemporary novel about an 18-year-old named Rani and her passionate boyfriend, Oliver, AMERICAN BETIYA details the desperate desire to escape into your beloved’s world and culture: what follows are heady highs, cultural misunderstandings, and the surprising emergence of one’s own identity. This novel delves into the complexities between Rani’s and Oliver’s relationship as well as Rani’s immigrant family, and all that happens as the two become interwoven.
AMERICAN BETIYA is a work of fiction. I drew upon my reading, research, and personal observations in creating Rani’s and Oliver’s world. I sought to discover what happens when two cultures collide in the form of feverish first love, and how we as a society might best support such relationships; how can we uphold and preserve our cultural heritage while viewing our differences as a boon, rather than a liability?
As I wrote AMERICAN BETIYA, I came to see how a couple’s cultural differences might intensify, strengthen and challenge their relationship, all on the same day.
