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A New Dawn is Here!

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The day of a book’s official release is not unlike the birth of a child. As a writer, I know it’s coming. This is what I’ve prepared for over the past few years and I am both excited and joyful with anticipation. I’ve even seen the previews through the edits and the cover design process.

Then, when I actually touch and feel the book, I am as proud as a mama with her new baby. This thing I hold in my hands is something I’ve created. And with the help of my editor and publisher, the product of my imagination has become a beautiful and real presence in the physical sense of the world. Such a wonder!

My new book, A New Dawn, has always been real in my head. Now, with the formal release of the book, the characters I’ve written aboutand lived with for the past few yearscan exist beyond my heart and my mind. They live in the pages of A New Dawn thus mingling with others, the readers the world over. Go! Go with blessings, my friends Usha, Raja, Arjay, Marcy and Veena and bring as much joy to others as you have to me. I will miss you, but you will forever be in my heart.

Pictures for the Imagination

The stories I read come alive in my head.

My mind does not merely read the words in a book. It form pictures in my brainof the characters, of their clothes and even their expressions. Crying and laughing with them, it’s as if I’m inhabiting their worlds, making me a shadow character with super powers that allow me to move from scene to scene, from character to character.

It’s a private world that I’d hate to have shattered, especially in terms of the characters with whom I develop a relationship. I’ve seen them and felt them as no one else can. I’m sure this is true for all readers.

But how about the settings, the locales where the stories are set?

My imagination can transcribe an author’s paragraphs, capture them in images. For example, I can visualize the fictional setting of Wessex in Thomas Hardy’s work. From more recent times, I can envisage the Ireland described by Donal Ryan in The Spinning Heart. Or I can picture the small town Indiana setting in Lee Martin’s The Bright Forever. All three are places (although Wessex is fictional) I have never visited and I rely on my intellect to draw the scenes for me, using the author’s descriptions.

There are times, though, when I’d appreciate a little prompt. A little nudge to my imagination that allows it to flourish, like a bit of yeast to help bread rise, without taking anything away from the my internal, confidential relationship with the characters.

Let me explain. My upcoming novel is set in the desert southwest of the United States. For those living in other parts of the world, the summer heat, the cacti with names like saguaro, ocotillo, prickly pearand dry landscapes will be unfamiliar. The main characters meet on the fifth floor of the large central library, a singularly beautiful structure.

It occurred to me, then, that a few photographs might help my reader, offering their already rich minds a tiny bit of extra fodder. With this in mind, here are a few images that will fit into the scenes of my upcoming novel, A New Dawn: the cacti, to convey the vibrancy of the desert landscape and the view from the fifth floor of the library, to capture where the protagonists first meet.

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Ocotillo
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Saguaro
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Prickly pear
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View from the library

Is the Stunning National Library of Finland a Library or a Museum?

I’ve been shushed by a librarian several times in my life, but never has a library rendered me speechless – until recently. The National Library of Finland, in Helsinki, is in one word – breathtaking. While this library is an architectural marvel, it is in some waystrue to all things Nordicunderstated. The sign on the door of this majestic building, for example, is tiny. The sign makes it hard to locate, but once I entered the imposing library any frustration that I harbored, fled.

I walked into the Cupola Hall, my eyes riveted on the intricate cupola above. And that’s not all. The hall’s other details included artistic pillars and awe-inspiring art. For some moments, I forgot this is a research library, my gaze captured by the sheer grandeur of the place. It might well have been a museum, or even a palace. But a glimpse of the shelves reminded me: this is a library.

The Cupola Hall connected to a second grand hall, the Rotunda, where I found a young man lucky enough to be surrounded by such beauty every single day. He was helpful in providing us with some details about the library.

Construction on the structure began circa 1840 and the library opened its doors circa 1845. A new extension was completed in 1903. This library, he told us, is the repository of every thing that’s been published in Finland. While I could see books stretching up the spiraling six floors, the bulk of the collection, he informed me, is stored in Kirjaluola (Finnish for Bookcave), an underground bunker ( yes, under the ground! ) drilled into solid rock, below the library.

“So, can people check books out of this place,” I asked the young man since it didn’t seem likely.

“Yes,” he said, “Books published after 1950. But you can study or work on research here as well.”

 Not a bad place to do that, I thought.

I had to ask him this, “How do you bring people into the library?” I meant not to just look around. as a tourist would, but to really use the services of the library. These days, with so many electronic sources, fewer people seem to go into a library.

“We have events,” he said and directed us up the stairs where an impressive exhibition on the life and works of Finnish philosopher Georg Henrik Von Wright unfolded.

Upstairs, computers hid in quiet corners behind the shelves, a subtle reminder of the times we live in.

I’ve tried to capture the many facets of this gem with my camera, but I’m afraid I do it little justice. If you’re ever in Helsinki, even if you’re not a bibliophile, this library is well worth a visit. Had Usha, the protagonist of my new novel, A New Dawn, worked in a library like this one, she’d have been ecstatic.

Knowledge Should be Free

As far back as I can remember, libraries have been a part of my life. They evoke several emotions: wonderment, knowledge, comfort, warmth, and an escape into the hitherto unknown.

I recall walking to the little corner store called the library, in India, at age ten. Clutching the fifty paise my mother had given melosing it would mean I wouldn’t have a book to read that night—I would enter my hallowed, but dusty heaven. From the higgledy-piggledy piles I’d choose one book, delighted to borrow the passport that would open new worlds.

They called it a lending library. My parents paid for a membership and in addition, we paid every time we borrowed a book. If we kept one beyond the seven day limit, a fine accrued. Never mind that the books went through so many hands, they were dog-eared, scribbled upon, cover-less, or in tatters. The lending library meant business to the shop owner.

The owner may or may not have read the books and he certainly didn’t organize them alphabetically. Still, he knew them all: the authors, the subject matter and the summaries. Some of the high-demand ones went on a wait lista ledger into which he inscribed names. If you paid him a little extra he could move you up on the list.

At school, from the relatively paltry library collection, we were allowed to take a book home on library days. The school didn’t have a large library but they did treat their books with a little more respect than the owner of the lending library.

When I got to college for my undergraduate studies, I got my first glimpse of a real library imposing, and hushed, where patrons paid homage to the universe of learning, knowledge and possibilities. Still, we mostly spent brief periods of time inside the library with reference books, using them to write essays.

Later, when I came to the United States for graduate work, the university library took my breath away. It wasn’t just the size and the limitless access that astonished me. I marveled at students spread out on the library lawns, reading, eating lunch or relaxing in the shadow of the library. And then, there were those inside. It amazed me that students would enter a library and find a spot simply to do their homework or study there, as if to spend time with booksnot to borrow themhanging around them like they were friends. Knowledge transferred by osmosis, perhaps? I learned then that libraries furnish more than books: they offer solace, quiet, peace, and room for reflection.

And best of all, it was all free, the books and the serenity. I now possessed an actual card and I didn’t need to pay to borrow anything.

The concept of a library has metamorphosed over the decades. In my lifetime, I’ve seen the corner lending library, the school library, the college library, the university library and the wonderful public libraries that populate every county in the United States. With the advent of the Internet, as a member of a public library, I can now download books on to my Kindle, or Ipad. Online borrowing is here to stay.

Today’s libraries bring you much more than books: music, movies, magazines, events, workshops, readings and authors. Long, long ago, in Hindi class, I had to write an essay on a famous quote (the author’s name escapes me):Sahitya Samaj Ka Darpan Hai. Roughly it translates, literature is a reflection of society. I extend that concept to include the library it, too, reflects evolving society.

While in elementary school, my daughter, upon hearing some adults comment on the high cost of college, remarked, “Knowledge should be free.” We laughed, then, at her precocity. Now I wonder, was that wisdom from a child’s mouth? The public library makes that happen for all of us, it offers free knowledge. In addition to so many other things.

Libraries have been a part of my life as long as I can remember, in many avatars. Small wonder I’ve chosen to set my next book, A New Dawn, in a public library.