But first, let me say a few words about the book
release. I would have loved a physical launch – sign
copies for friends and interact, but it was not to be. Given the times we were
living through it was unthinkable. Nevertheless, the online launch was
altogether a new experience and rewarding too, in a different way. And thanks
to technology, it was good to see that many outstation family and friends could
join, which otherwise wouldn't have been quite possible. Above and beyond the
impressive remarks from a few (publisher, literary agent and others), I think,
the line "Bless my homeland forever" from the song
"Edelweiss" (a soundtrack from the movie "Sound of Music")
sung by my daughter Debbie captivated many that day. It was interesting how
listeners chose that particular line (as it rhymed in the chat box) and added a
sort of nationalistic/sub-nationalistic flavour, in tune with an important
theme from the book.
The rugged road to being noticed
Let me start by saying the book was not a
"lockdown project". Many people assumed it was because it appeared
during the pandemic. On the contrary, the pandemic even delayed its arrival by
at least half a year! What many don’t know is that publishing in India is not
easy. Harder still if you’re a debutant. Only writers or aspiring writers would
understand this. Obviously, publishers wouldn't want to take a chance on you,
after all, it's business for them! What is the guarantee that it will sell
well? Besides other risks, the stake is quite high for publishers. I bet I
would also be playing the same role, if I were in their shoes.
Of course, there is the option of self-publishing.
And many are taking that route. The sprouting of self-publishing services tell
a lot about this growing business. With a growing population of English
speakers, the country offers a lot of people who think they can be good
writers. I can imagine publishing houses piled up with unread manuscripts and
their mail boxes spammed with proposals! And in most cases, there will be just
silence, not even a courteous ‘no’. The wait can be deadening... I’ve been
there!
One thing is for sure – it takes a lot of
patience. And along the way, it is important to have people who believe in you!
I was fortunate to have a few who constantly offered encouragement, otherwise,
I would have given up midway. Believe it or not, I wrote the skeletal of the
novel one summer vacation about seven years back (yes, seven!), and kept adding
flesh to it for the next few years. Then I thought it was ready to be launched
to life. So I started my “novel journey” by sending to publishing houses. But
after half a dozen of rejections, I thought it would never make it. In fact, I
kept it buried for a couple of years! However, a few persistent ones forced me
to resurrect it. I owe a lot to them!
So, there it is – I finally got published! For me, in the end, getting published by a reputed name means that you are guaranteed of a strong media/publicity team. Unexpected or pleasantly surprising reviews from different corners tell me of the wide reach and influence of the team. Honestly, I’m honoured to be reviewed, even though some were not quite of a good taste in its entirety! Nevertheless, I take it as a learning experience and something I could keep in mind for my next novel, if ever I happen to stumble upon an idea! All in all, the reviews have been enriching, offering fresh insights to the novel.
Who are my readers?
One
of the most interesting reception of my novel was the children’s readership.
When I started writing, I must admit that I didn’t quite have children as my
readers in mind. On the contrary, I was writing on some serious themes which
would suit the serious mind, or so I thought. Did the kids pick it up because
it started with a ten year old Rakovei? Or were they appealed by the conflict
situation mentioned in the blurb? It was my ten year old daughter who was one
of the first to read it at home! Then I began to hear from various families too
that the kids were the ones to read it ahead of the adults at home. I wondered
how they were able to process all those stories of pain and anguish which, of
course, were narrated alongside the beauty and innocence of country life.
In
this experience, I also began to understand that often it is the adults who
often define what should be children’s story and which shouldn’t be. I’ve
taught theories of children’s literature to students of literature, but until
this time I didn’t realise (in practice) that the child is often not consulted
what her taste is or what would be suitable to her. Of course, I’m not saying
that adults aren’t capable of making sensible choices for children. But
children’s mind can process much more complicated stuffs than we think. They’re
certainly much more imaginative and their young minds can certainly process
subjects that might be challenging to the adult minds!
But this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have an audience in mind. What I stressed on was that there could be surprising reception, even from unthought of locations. In fact, I’m happy to hear feedbacks from various corners on some important issues that I had hoped to raise through the novel. And the reviews testify to this.
Why I write
Everyone
has stories to tell. And I also wanted to play my own part – telling stories of
what I’ve heard, seen and felt. And stories that I didn’t want to be silenced
or vanish into the past. Some are beautiful and of unforgettable experiences;
some are heart wrenching and violent. Nevertheless they all form a part of
history that I thought shouldn’t be forgotten. I wanted to tell of growing up
in a small town whose innocence has dissolved by the fast paced changes of
modern life. And of the travellers’ road strewn with due drops on the blades of
tall grasses in the woods as people walk to their villages. My stories are of
the recent past, just few decades old, but with the winds of change blowing as
fierce as hurricane, they are slowly disappearing without a trace. Worse still,
they are being forgotten. I tried to tell a bit of this in my piece in The Hindu.
Let
me end with a thought on the title. Most readers would be able to read into the
word “waiting” and connect the many stories in the novel. The wait for a
solution to the protracted Indo-Naga conflict comes as a major point, but there
are several others that awaits peace – people as well as the land. My only
prayer is that it will not be an endless wait. And to those who hear, I hope it
helps you see things at a micro level.
