I'm Finally Published (Insert virtual Ticker Tape Parade!)

 I first started writing some 22 years ago. 

At the time, it was a way of dealing with severe Postnatal Depression.

It was part of my therapy process. A way to heal. 

Over time these first words which my succour from suicidal thoughts and a darkness so thick, I couldn’t believe light existed, evolved. They became articles which I submitted to various Islamic publications.I even wrote for Islam Online. Today, many, many years later, some of these early pieces still exist on websites I’ve never heard of. The firm favourites seem to be the ones about In laws. 

You can find some here and here

But since human beings are not static creatures and we’re constantly growing, changing, my writing journey finally arrived at my first love. Fiction. Something I had set aside completely when I had my religious epiphany at 16, which saw me ditch school in favour of religious instruction. Aka Daarul Uloom. I remember the guilty pleasure I experienced, reading Leila Aboulela’s The Translator. Hers was one of the first works of fiction I picked up when I got back to reading with the kind of greed I’d only experienced as a child and teen.  

THIS was what I had been born to do, I decided. So I started writing fiction. At first, I wrote only Islamic Fiction. Short stories which were all, probably quite awful. But they were words meant to guide people, strengthen them in their conviction and faith. Islamic fiction was a burgeoning industry back then and my words found some appreciation, appearing in magazines and on websites, I even had a book of children’s poems about the 99 Names of Allah published. It is, sadly, out of print now. But is how it looked.

I’m not sure when the seed for my novel (which is FINALLY out in the world) was planted. E-mail exchanges with loyal friends who were willing to be subjected to the awfulness that is an early draft indicate that I had a version out in 2016. 

But I know I had an even worse version ready in 2010. And boy do I feel the readers of THAT particular load of drivel sorry!

If you were one of them, I really am sorry to have subjected you to that brand of logorrhea. But you helped make this book happen. And for that I will always be grateful. Your words of encouragement, those are what kept me going. Had you been brutally honest with me back then, I, most likely would have given up. Or not. 

I’m stubborn, like that.

When I tired of the process, felt it had been dragging on for too long, I made a deal with myself:

The final version HAD to be finished by the time I turned 40. 

That was a good six and a half years ago. I turn 47 in August.

I won’t bore you with the details of how Home Scar finally found its way between a beautiful cover, and how it’s going to be launched next Tuesday, and how I will be on a panel (a panel, dammit!- okay, it’s actually two panels 😀) at the Kingsmead Book Fair.

I will just say that if you’re in Jozi and if you’ve been reading me now and again on this here blog, and if my words have ever resonated with you, please come to the launch.

My awesome publisher, Modjaji Books, aka Colleen Higgs will be there. 

My awesome kids will be there and my wonderful but very tiny group of friends will be there.

And I will be there.

Come listen to me talk (and hopefully not trip over words) . I will be in conversation with the inimitable and super famous Qaanitah Hunter.

Come exchange your thoughts with me.
Let’s talk life journeys, and growth,. And becoming. 

Because at it’s core, that is what Home Scar is all about. 

And maybe, come buy a book? Or two?

I’m an optimist, like that.

See you next Tuesday.

Aameen!