Certainty and Control? Who Needs That?
From Entertainment Lawyer to Novelist + Launch Highlights + Book Recs
A Busy Launch Month
I want to start by giving a heartfelt thank you to everyone who has supported A Good Indian Girl. All the social media posts, reviews, requests from your library or bookstore matter and each one is appreciated. This was a different kind of launch because I was with a new publisher, had my first ever in-person launch event, and am embracing the fact that I am finally starting to own my identity as a writer rather than a lawyer (on most days, as you’ll see below).
I would really like to thank everyone who braved the LA Heatwave and came out to cheer me on. Here are some of the highlights from my launch event:
From Entertainment Lawyer to Novelist
As many of you know, I was an entertainment lawyer for the majority of my adult life. Being a lawyer was something I had worked hard for and was proud of. Having a senior position at major studios, well, I beamed when I got to share that. It was a dream come true and a very socially accepted career path. I didn’t have any pressure from my parents to choose that profession (to this day, they don’t know what my actual job entailed but liked knowing it was “lawyer”). Being a lawyer was something I wanted for myself. It was a huge part of my identity. I worked for well known studios (Warner Bros., HBO, and NBCUniversal), and there was a certain stature and acceptance I knew I’d feel walking into a room of strangers and stating my profession.
There were a lot of reasons that I gravitated toward the law: a generally outsized need for justice, a love of the written word and clear communication, and an aptitude to solve puzzles (which is what every case boils down to). But the largest and most salient reason that I moved toward that career was a desire to be financially stable and have a linear path for getting there.
My childhood was similar to that of many immigrants in that financial security wasn’t guaranteed. There were years that were more comfortable than others, but there was never a day when we weren’t thinking about or stressed about money in some capacity. Unlike so many others in America, we were fortunate that we always had our basic needs met: food on the table, a roof over our heads with plumbing and electricity, and a vehicle to get us where we needed to go. It was material things that weren’t always there: clothes from the stores the “cool kids” in school shopped at (during my days that was Maurice’s at the local strip mall), the trendy shoes (couldn’t afford the Keds and instead had the knockoffs from Payless), and the part that was most coveted by a book loving child like me, new books from the Scholastic Magazine that the teachers passed out in school.
Every time the teacher passed out those brightly colored magazines, I would go through each page and circle the ones I wanted. I didn’t ask my parents to buy them, but for those moments, I could dream a little. I could pretend I was one of the students who would be handed a big stack of books when the shipment arrived. That I’d be able to smell the new paper and feel the spine give way as I opened it for the first time. (Carefully, of course, because books should be pristine and I would be horrified at a crease on the spine.)
Children absorb so much and one of the things I recall most as a child was knowing not to add to my parents’ burdens. Especially with problems that could be solved on my own. We were a practical family, and the reality was that every book I had circled in the magazines would be available at our public library. So even a young version of me understood that it didn’t make sense to divert money that could otherwise be used for groceries, gas, or those precious-but-expensive long-distance phone calls to India, to have the privilege of owning a book rather than borrowing one. At a young age, I knew the burdens faced by my parents were different than those of my friends’ parents. Every family goes through hardships, but I saw that theirs were unique. Theirs involved being in a country they didn’t fully understand, one in which they weren’t fully accepted, and having their support networks and cultural comforts a world away. As I a child, I only knew that I had to lighten the load in whatever small ways I could. As an adult, I know I will never fully comprehend their burdens because they sacrificed so much to make sure I wouldn’t.
Those experiences shape children profoundly, and they certainly shaped me. I felt a sense of responsibility to myself and my parents to make sure we could be free of the worry of financial insecurity. I knew that by virtue of being raised in America and having learned its customs, my ability to earn would exceed theirs. And I was fortunate to have always had a solid public school education, and to have parents who supported my education as best we could. SAT and ACT prep classes were out of the question given the costs, but we made room in the budget for workbooks so I could learn on my own. I’d been raised to value education and invest in that area of my life, so I did. I believed that if I worked hard, then a career in law would eliminate many of the financial strains we’d had while I was growing up.
I followed the path set out by many others before me: undergrad, law school, prominent internship, fancy law firm after graduation, segue to an in-house job. Each step had been carefully crafted and felt attainable. I felt like I had control over whether I would reach the next stage, and that it was a function of how I had performed at the level preceding it. I craved and loved the control and certainty over my future.
Writing is the opposite of that. You can work really hard and not make a dent in your career. You can work less hard and something will take off. There is no correlation between effort and success, and it is both exhilarating and infuriating.
Embracing this lack of control over the direction of my career is hard. It’s about doing work solely because of my love for it and not because I think it will help me reach any professional milestones. The lack of predictability frustrates a logic-minded person like me. I’m someone who likes meritocracies and defined goals. But I’m learning to rewire my brain and embrace my new normal, because this wildly unpredictable life that often stresses me out also has given me more purpose than any other work I’ve done.
When I get stressed about the future of my career or the performance of a book, I always come back to who I am when I’m writing. A good writing day makes me feel productive, and at peace, and like I’m living in alignment. And that is a different way to think about a career and success than I have in the past. I’m grateful for every book deal, and every opportunity to share more stories with the world. I take nothing for granted, and know nothing in publishing is guaranteed, and I really try to embrace that the only thing that I can control are the words I put onto the page. From there, a million factors determine who, how, when, and even, if, anyone will see those words.
I am apprehensive walking into a room and saying I’m a writer rather than a lawyer. That is a combination of the value society places on creative careers as well as the way I’ve internalized many of those beliefs about what careers are considered “prestigious.” Admittedly, it helps me feel more secure that I have published books that people can google and find, but I am working on owning for myself that this career is just as prestigious as my old one. Without a doubt, it is a more significant emotional commitment. Every word counts. Every interaction with a reader matters.
As I look at both of these careers, I’m reminded of what we already know about life: Nothing is perfect. We often must make choices, and I had to choose between continued financial gain (more is more) and personal fulfillment (less is more). So, I asked myself what matters most to me and the answers were: my health, my relationships, making a difference in this world, and feeling productive during my days. For me, all of those things are better accomplished as a writer, so I left my lawyer life and dove into this new career, knowing the skills I had learned as a child about how to stretch a dollar and focus on needs versus wants would come into play now more than ever before in my adulthood.
I recognize that it’s a privilege for me to even have those options in the first place. I know that I wouldn’t be where I am today without having had such a solid and steady legal career before this. I’m grateful for the path that led me to living out my childhood dreams…even on the days when it feels uncertain and scary, and I’m even more grateful to you readers who stick with me for each book and give me the space to continue to grow and evolve as a writer and person.
Some author humor
If you’ve read this far, we could use a change of gears. Here’s a photo of me trying to do the smirk and side-eye from the cover.
Bookish People to Know
One of the highlights of my writing journey has been connecting with people who share a love of books and are trying to spread that joy to the rest of the world. This month, I’m very excited to feature bookstagrammer extraordinaire Saadia Ahmed.
I first came across Saadia in the lead up to my debut novel The Taste of Ginger. She reviewed the book and then was one of the first people to reach out to me directly. Since that time, she has supported each and every book I’ve written, including driving several hours in the worst heatwave Southern California has experienced in recent history, to attend my outdoor book launch event for A Good Indian Girl.
Through Saadia, I’ve learned about so many authors and books. She is an advocate in the community for lifting other voices and her book recs are always spot on, especially if you are someone who likes a bit of romance in your reading. Here’s a chance to get to know her better and pick up some of her favorite books.
Saadia, tell us a little about yourself, including a fun fact we might not otherwise know from your social media.
Currently living in San Diego, I’m a Pakistani American bookstagrammer and writer. Prior to San Diego, I’ve lived in Los Angeles, Arlington (VA), and Karachi (Pakistan). Besides being an avid traveler, I love going to the movies and watching plays, stand up comedy shows and musicals.
What inspired you to start a bookstagram account?
I wanted to rave about books I loved!
What is a book that has stayed with you long after the last page?
Dear Edward by Ann Napolitano. It’s such a unique and beautiful story of loss and grief. The way it made me feel still gives me chills. I literally sobbed while reading the book because I could feel the pain of the main character so vividly. I wanted to reach out and hug him.
What book have you read that makes you feel the most seen?
The last book that made me feel the most seen was Wild Eyes by Elsie Silver because it felt like the author took my biggest fears and insecurities and poured them into the main characters.
What is a book you wish more people knew about?
Maya’s Laws of Love by Alina Khawaja - it’s the first Pakistani contemporary romance I’ve read and I absolutely loved it.
What was the last book that made you laugh?
The Truth According to Ember by Danica Nava. It had accounting jokes, which cracked me up.
What is the last book that made you cry?
Wild Eyes by Elsie Silver. As a romance reader, I knew it would end in a happily ever after, and yet I sobbed uncontrollably while reading the third act breakup because it felt too real.
What types of books would you like to see more of on the shelves?
I would love to see Pakistani American contemporary romances on the shelves.
Recent Read
There is nothing better than discovering a fresh new voice, and that is how I felt after I read Linh Li is Doing Just Fine by Thao Votang.
I went into this book head first (like the woman on the cover), having seen it posted on social media, but I didn’t read the synopsis or any details about it. I like starting a book with no knowledge of the story, and seeing if it can grip me, and this one definitely did. Linh Ly’s deadpan humor and sharp observations about the people in her life and the world around her kept me riveted, and I found this one hard to put down. Writing smart humor is hard. Votang makes it look easy. That is the gift of a talented writer who has something to say.
Votang allows the reader to take a fresh and brutally honest look at the world around us. She doesn’t shy away from hard subjects and while the title implies there’s going to be a discussion of mental health issues within the pages, it was handled in a way that was far different from what I was expecting. The MC is very anxious and overprotective of the people she loves, especially her mom, with whom she has the complex and nuanced relationship that many of us (especially immigrant kids) can relate to with our parents. While I didn’t go to the extremes that the character in the book does, as you saw above, I resonated deeply with the responsibility an immigrant kid can feel with their parents. We want to protect them from the cruelties they might find in their new chosen home.
Growing up, I knew my language and social etiquette skills for the country my family called home were better than those of my parents. It is a push-pull relationship of being embarrassed by their social faux pas, understanding why they were occurring, and also being fiercely loyal to them and not wanting anyone outside of the immediate family to makes jokes, poke fun, or diminish them. Votang handles the nuance of these intergenerational relationships with grace and sensitivity.
Oh, and the main character plays tennis and that just warms my tennis-loving heart.
I don’t want to give up too much of this book, but I think every reader can find relatable topics within the pages.
Thank you all for joining me on this journey…I still can’t believe that I get to do this work and it wouldn’t be possible without your support. I’ve got some exciting travels coming up, so I’ll be reporting to you from various places around the world in the coming months.
xo,
mansi