Monday, September 1, 2014


It's LABOR DAY! The end of summer. My excuse train just left its last station and won't stop now for two months, come high water or Hagrid. 

What happens in the next two months? Well, PLAN A is that I FINISH LUHU, my work in progress, whose protagonist I am finally...finally...have made nice with. So, crossing fingers, Peeps, this will go smoothly.

My issues with LUHU were many: plot question-marks, my utter bewilderment with its characters motivations, my protagonists lack of focus, destination, or drive...which wasn't such a bad thing but wasn't sitting well with me. 

Not NORMAL, I kept thinking. This book is not normal for me. First time I'm attempting First Person POV. First time it may not be a Happily Ever After. First time the sense of the book is melancholy. (I don't do melancholy well.) Which is great in real life but frustrating in LUHU-land.

Hence, the heavy delays in writing. But, as I get to know Simi (THE PROTAGONIST) better, I'm getting over many of the above mentioned hang-ups. Hurrah! 

And now its BACK TO THE SPINNING WHEEL, for me.

I'll leave you with an excerpt. Be sure to check in here or on my FB page and/or Twitter for regular updates about LUHU. Plus, do sign up for my NEWSLETTER. I generally send those out twice a year but am thinking I might do them share news of my writing life and yippee, contests. With prizes! :) 


I loved that Dr. Archer spoke directly to me. He addressed Nirvaan only sporadically. Childbearing was a woman’s prerogative, after all. Though in my case, I’d hardly use the word prerogative. Coerced would be more apt.

I took a deep breath and let it out. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. Not yet. Maybe I’d never be. The thought of being responsible for another person’s health and security scared me like nothing else. Nirvaan knew that. I’d thought of children as waves crashing over a distant horizon. I’d discussed…or no, we’d never discussed having a baby, Nirvaan and I. Not before we got married. Not after. Not until Nirvaan was diagnosed with cancer and the option of freezing his sperm before his first chemo came up—a treatment that had left him irreversibly sterile.

I didn’t want to deny my husband this wish. But I do not want a baby. Not now. Not when our lives were in flux again.

“Well, that’s a lot of information to sort through,” said Dr. Archer, winding down at last. The walls in his office weren’t the calming colors of the Pacific Ocean. They were the no-nonsense white of his doctor’s coat. “Meanwhile, we can start monitoring your cycle. You need to come in for a detailed consult next week, Mrs. Desai. We’ll do some more blood work, a preliminary ultrasound. Narrow down the best route for you. Prescribe medications for maximum ovarian stimulation and so forth.” He glanced at his desktop monitor. “I have Monday afternoon and Thursday morning open. Or, you can call my assistant for later dates.”

“Monday’s great,” replied Nirvaan when I pretended to scroll through my largely appointment-less phone calendar.

Monday was only three days away. I could be pregnant by the end of the month. My husband might be dead by this time next year.

My breath turned to stone in my lungs. The white walls of the doctor’s office shrank, pushing at me. I thought I’d finally scream.

“Call whenever you’re ready.” Dr. Archer’s words were kind. His pale blue eyes were kinder. “Call if you have any questions. Any doubts. Your youth really is in your favor and its not infertility that we are dealing with in your situation but extenuating circumstances. Even though we have a limited amount of your husband’s sperm to work with, we have an excellent success rate, Mrs. Desai. Rest assured.”

Hysteria bubbled up in my throat. He thought I was worried this wouldn’t work. How do I confess to him, to anyone, that I was petrified that it would?

I'm glad I didn't quit this story. What does thee think, Peeps? 

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