tales for dreamers
tales for dreamers: standing still
In which we consider the surprising delights and challenges of stillness.
Latest
on writing
dying wishes
My latest novel, 'Dying Wishes', is out now! It's up on Amazon [https://www.amazon.com/Dying-Wishes-Anitha-Krishnan-ebook/dp/B09169CLPP/] (both ebook and paperback versions), and also on Kobo [https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/dying-wishes-4]. I'm working
life, unadulterated
moments of respite
There it was again. That feeling. Despondency. Desperation. That feeling of being 'stuck' in the same place for far too long. That need to run away. That temptation to burn up that sensation in smoke, or stuff it down with chocolate, or fall into some fantasyland on Netflix
life, unadulterated
when I try to juggle and all the balls fall down
I struggle with being a mother and a writer at the same time. When D is at home, I find it impossible to get any writing done. When he is at home, I want to spend time with him. But after a few hours of being with him, something starts
life, unadulterated
on self-love
This past month has been difficult. We've all been in some state of lockdown for so long now that I assumed I had gotten used to it, more or less, that I had figured out a way to cope with it and make the most of it. I
on writing
the end!
At exactly 12:08 PM this afternoon, I wrote these words 'The End' on my WIP. My second book but my first ever novel! A tome of about 135,000 words. I treated myself to a nice long walk in the snow and a long soak in a
life, unadulterated
being our own champion
I have only one word to describe this past week: Rich. Rich in terms of learning and understanding. I spent several nights reading The Broken Circle: A Memoir of Escaping Afghanistan [https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/42945699-the-broken-circle] written by Enjeela Ahmadi-Miller. She recounts her family&
on writing
making choices and making mistakes - deciding what matters in 2021
Sometime last week, a trip to the optometrist finally laid to rest all the questions I had had these past several months (since March actually, since the beginning of the pandemic lockdown here) about the incessant headaches and phases of blurry vision I'd been having. Armed with a
on writing
antidote to a nagging discontent
I missed posting an update last Sunday, not because I didn't remember to but because I couldn't bear to look at my laptop screen any more than I already had that week. My feelings this past fortnight have ranged from complete elation to utter dejection and
on writing
crossing a milestone by 'failing forward'
I started work on my current WIP in January 2019. I jotted down ideas in general along with a plot outline and even wrote a bit I suppose, until a phone call from a family member in February completely derailed me and took me away from the WIP for several
on writing
starting over as an author-entrepreneur at 40
I turned forty two weeks ago. My birthday itself was a pleasant occasion and I celebrated it with my husband and four-year-old and cake. Wishes poured in from family overseas, and I remember feeling loved and content in the moment. But in the weeks leading up to my
life, unadulterated
happy birthday to me!
Another year has passed. Another decade. A good four decades, in fact. And I am already loving it here. All the roads unfurl ahead of me. It's as if I have only just begun.