It’s so nice when you come across perfect strangers who have read your book and liked it enough to say so. I know I’m being disgustingly vain now, but what the heck – my two seconds of fame, I might as well enjoy it.
First, my publisher tells me that my book has sold over a thousand copies.
Then, I get more appreciation from someone I don’t know at all.
And then, there’s this review.
Granted that this review was written by Chris, one of my closest and dearest friends; but to insinuate that that has anything whatsoever to do with the review would be laughable to anyone who knows Chris.
Right now, it doesn’t look like things could get any better. 🙂
My publisher finally sent me the entire list of stores that will stock my book! Just as I was beginning to think that maybe they didn’t plan to put it in any brick and mortar shops at all. I’m thrilled to see the whole list!
Ok, the bad news – in Bangalore, Gangarams doesn’t figure. Also, my publisher being mainly north-centric, Crossword and Landmark don’t figure. At least Strand is in the list. (And Sapna, of course.) Also sad to see that Calcutta doesn’t figure at all – and this book would generate a lot of interest there.
But the initial report I have just received indicates that 750 copies of my book have been placed in 102 book shops in 23 cities in India. Wow! Now I feel like an author.
Don’t get me wrong – I don’t hate doing the ironing. In fact, it is the household task that I least dislike. I won’t go so far as to say that I actually enjoy it, but if any housework were to be bordering the enjoyable, it would be ironing.
But that doesn’t mean that it figured prominently in my dreams. Whenever I dreamt of what exactly it would feel like the day I became a published author; whenever I thought of how excited I would be and how I would celebrate; strangely enough, none of those times did ironing figure in the dreams. But that’s what I spent the evening doing. And as for the champagne I mentioned – it didn’t happen. Not a sip. Not even a whiff. All I got was a couple of bites of fairly foul lactose-free, gluten-free chocolate that I had been driven to spend Republic Day making. Considering I’ve never actually tried to make slab chocolate at home before (why bother, when you can make fudge frosting which is – if possible – even more delicious?), to try making it without one of the key ingredients (icing sugar) was foolish, but that only testifies to the level of desperation one can sink to after two whole weeks on a strictly lactose-free, gluten-free diet which eliminates all forms of commercial chocolate. (And to be told afterwards that icing sugar is gluten safe!)
But I digress. The point remains that, the day my book became available online, which nowadays can be considered to be at least as significant as the day it becomes available in brick and mortar bookshops, I spent the evening not celebrating, but doing ironing.
Why? You may well ask. Not by choice, obviously. But we are having domestic help issues. Our all-in-one domestic help is having marital problems that involve an errant and philandering husband, unscrupulous lawyers, and intractable judges. All of which doesn’t leave her with much time to organize the running of our house. The result is, not only did I spend both Sunday and Republic Day cooking, I spent my turning-author day ironing a vast stack of children’s clothes. With all their favourite clothes waiting to be ironed, I could well have had mutiny on my hands on Friday morning, had I not buckled down and done the deed on Thursday night.
Ok, but one can celebrate on Friday evening instead, can’t one? One could have and indeed, one intended to… but somehow or other that celebration fizzled out and wound up in a small tub of vanilla ice cream. I’m discovering, in fact, that it’s quite difficult to celebrate anything when all you can eat is rice, veggies, and chicken. And no beer.
So most of my celebration has been online, with virtual friends, a virtual book launch, virtual autographing, and a virtual promise of cake. The ironing I did was all real, though.
…and definitely don’t judge this book by the cover photograph! I’m not such a bad photographer, but I’m not so good with mobilephone cameras, flat objects, and bad lighting. However, for what it’s worth, here’s the cover (ta-da!):
If you like the cover, and especially if you don’t, let me assure you, it gets better once you open it and start reading (there’s a time and a place for false modesty and this is not either).
I still don’t know which bookshops it’s available in, but you can buy it online from uRead.com. It’s on the home page, complete with picture of the cover, so you can’t miss it. And they deliver internationally too, to several countries.
And I’m an author… at last. In case you didn’t catch it in the comments on my previous post, the title of my book is:
Worth Every Gasp
It’s published by Prakash Books, and the author’s name is… ? Anamika Mukherjee (taking a bow)!
This is the closest thing to a launch that we’re going to get, folks, so go buy your copies and tell me how much you enjoyed it. Yes, you can get it online, on flipkart if you search by author and on uread.com (right on the front page now; they have a picture; and they deliver internationally as well).
Autographed copies? Seriously? Well, I suppose I can courier you a copy. Leave me a comment and I’ll contact you over email.
Ok, now I’m off to find a bottle of gluten-free champagne to open.