"The Space Between Us"

"The Space Between Us" by Thrity Umrigar.

I am silently drawn to books written about Indian culture. (Like Mumbai, India Indian culture.)

I'm fascinated by the descriptions of things I've never eaten or places I've never been. Indian authors (or the 2 I have read thus far- "A Fine Balance" by Rohinton Mistry was another) have this uncanny ability to transport their readers into the streets of their stories.

I can actually taste the dust in the "jhodpadpattis", smell the urine running through the streets, and feel the greasy heat. Hell, they even trust their readers to define their Indian words. A jjhodpadpatti is a slum, I think.

I recently finished Thrity's book and true to form, she wrote and I got to travel with her.

I read Bhima's story but above all, the "About the Author" pages is what I really want to share...

I might not know what a Parsi is vs. a Hindu, but I do know that Thrity the author is a smart woman.

Excerpts from her "Words to the Wise to the Would-Be Writer":

#1 : "Remember, it is possible to have a perfectly happy and balanced life without ever writing a book. You can take up less dangerous pursuits such as snowboarding, or skydiving, instead. In other words, give yourself permission not to write."

2: " If you are a true writer, you will find what I said laughable. Because for you, writing is a way of surviving in the world, the medium through which you make sense of your life."

#7: "Saying that you don't have time to write is an excuse. The fact is nobody has time to write, other than the miniscule number of writers who make their living from writing full-time. Most writers make the time to write. Their lives are no easier or less busy than anyone else's. They too have dentists appointments and kids who need trips to the emergency room and pets who puke in the kitchen and gardens that have to be watered and weeded. The difference between writers and non-writers is just that writers write. Non-writers talk about wanting to write."

I really want to have lunch with this woman.

FaceBook and Fynn

Perhaps after 2 glasses of merlot, I should not be posting but...

A.) I am waiting for my teenage daughter to tell me she's safe and sound (homecoming this weekend). and

B.) I feel like ranting. (So, please bear with me or skip this post and read on Monday.)





I recently succumbed, as is usual, to the social pressure of joining Facebook. A social networking sight? Sure, I'll give it a shot. I signed up. I saw faces I haven't seen in years-my curiosity piqued. But then, I wonder.....



1. Does anyone feel as if they are collecting friends? I feel a bit as if I'm collecting Garbage Pail Kids again--whoever has the most wins???



2. I've no interest in sipping virtual martinis, owning an e-pet, that yes, demands to be walked just like the real thing. I've got two breathing dogs that if they could talk would complain like hell that we don't do it enough.



3. I'm really not sure what to do with it. (And I'm pretty positive that I'm not going to post what I'm thinking every hour for everyone to see....) If I haven't talked to someone in 15 years, do they really care to hear how I'm feeling today? Probably not.



4. Has anyone's life been significantly affected by FaceBook? Seriously, I'd like to know.



5. We fall out of touch with people for one reason or another, I get it. But ponder this..I don't live anywhere near my parents but yet, somehow, they always know where I live and the general sense of how my life is going. Why? Because they care about me enough to know where I am and what I'm doing. Hmmm???



6. Ok, so why don't I just choose not to particpate? Well, I like to see the family pictures of those I've kept in touch with. You're right, I'll stop bitching and just go with it.



And so we get to the other "F" word in this post...Fynn.






Another baby is born which gives me an excuse to sew. (Been wanting to try the scalloped edges from "Bend the Rules Sewing"-mine got a bit cloudlike but..I didn't buy the book and was trying to use my memory. Yes, good luck with that.)

Fynn, as you may have guessed, is the baby. I forgot how much fun it was to back stitch. (Wow, really livin' up over here..) but there is something to be said about creating a row of stitches by hand.

It soothes me in some strange way. ( I can hardly recall what my issues with FaceBook were..oh yes, collecting friends.)

Ok, so I'll think of it as a way to get back in touch, to see where our lives have taken us. I will still, however, refuse to drink or trade martinis.

I'll backstitch in my head and consider just taking it for what it's worth.