Who, Me?

Recently a friend sent me this link: 5 Indian Authors that Your Child Must Read. “You’re on it,” she said.

Who, me?

Turns out I am indeed on that list–which was nice. Although it felt funny to see myself described as “a relatively new author.” Mind you, I suppose in comparison to Rudyard Kipling or Anant Pai, “relatively new” is just about right.

No problem, I’ll accept the validation!

The other day, I received an email from a child reader who wrote that her mom just gave her a copy of The Broken Tusk and she was enjoying the stories. Every writer has a book of the heart. This was my second book, edited by the wonderful Diantha Thorpe at a marvelous small press, Linnet Books, with a history of intelligent, interesting acquisitions–military history, literary reprints, and folk and traditional stories. Diantha taught me to write boldly, not to pull back when the going got tough. The message reminded me that this year, The Broken Tusk will be 10 20 years old. That’s right, 20! I can’t count, can I?

Just some of the fun stuff that happens when you’ve been at this business a while.


4 thoughts on “Who, Me?

  1. Dear Uma,

    I was delighted to see the cover of A Broken Tusk? in your blog. I first came to know your work through this book, which a former student gifted me when my son was born 17 years ago. So I was surprised when at the end of the post you write that the book is almost 10 years old. I’m sending this note to let you know there is a typo there (it should be 20, no?) in case you want to let others know of its two decades of existence!

    Warmest wishes from a fan,



  2. Thank you, Sara, and of course, you’re right, that was either a slip of my mental faculties or my typing finger, I can’t exactly remember which. Either way, thanks for your kind words and for reminding me how warm and fuzzy it feels to think of my book having been in readers’ hands for such a good long time.

  3. It is for me too, Katherine. I am so glad that years ago, I decided that since there seemed to be no market for me to write for, I’d just write what I wanted to, send it out in the world and see what happened. A quarter century later, here I am, so grateful for this work.

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