Is It Too Late to Return to 2024?
LA Wildfires & Evacuating to Argentina
LA Wildfires & Evacuating to Argentina
I don’t even know where to start with the past month. The most significant and devastating thing in my life was the LA Wildfires that began on January 7. There are so many stories that have come out of this tragic event, some good and some bad, but I’m sharing a part of mine with you today.
I live very close to the eastern edge of the Palisades Fire, and beginning on that day, I was kicked into survival mode and stayed there for a long time. I have lived in LA long enough to know there is now a “wildfire season,” and I normally don’t need to worry too much about my own home and welfare by virtue of living in a concrete jungle part of the city. I’ve been in voluntary evacuation zones before, but this was different. This time, the fires started amidst the highest winds LA has ever seen. This meant, that on January 7 and for a period of about 24 hours, there was no air support in defense of the fires whatsoever. The fires raged with embers being blown over a mile in less than a minute, and within hours, the Palisades Fire had engulfed about thirty square miles causing unimaginable destruction. Despite living in a residential area with a lot of concrete around me, for the first time, I realized the conditions were such that all the resources in the city weren’t enough to control or direct the embers from such a mighty blaze paired with hurricane force winds.
From my home, I stayed vigilant via news sources and the Watch Duty app. Other fires were burning across the city and it was unclear where would even be safe to go, because most of my friends were in the same precarious position with fires raging near them or evacuation notices in place. Throughout the night, new fires erupted both near and far, but those were fortunately contained quickly. By morning, the sky was dark with smoke, the smell of burning was everywhere, and ash floated in the air like giant snowflakes. It looked like Armageddon was upon us. But none of us could fathom what the true damage would be at this early stage. Previous fire seasons had not prepared us for what was to come.
It was impossible to sleep because fire alerts and evacuation updates kept going off every few minutes. But every time one buzzed, I had to check to see exactly where it was and whether I was impacted. My “go” bag was packed within a few hours of the first alert on January 7, and there is nothing more humbling than looking around your home and determining which items would make the cut for the carry-on suitcase I was ready to run with, if needed. And there is nothing more palpable than realizing how much we focus on material possessions when, in the end, they can all literally go up in smoke.
By January 9, the fires were in North Brentwood. From my deck, I saw this plume of fresh smoke rising that was clearly close—too close—and was filled with a sense of panic and dread.
By January 10, I had received a “Do Not Drink” notice stating that we should not consume, cook, shower or brush teeth with the water flowing through our pipes because it could contain fire contaminants. I rushed to the local store to get bottled water, and the shelves looked like they did in the first weeks of the pandemic. I grabbed what I could, and was trying to figure out what to do. Even if the winds had died down and it was unlikely that an ember could blow far enough to my home, the air quality was terrible, we were told the water was now contaminated, and there was really nowhere to go in the city where life could have seemed normal.
On top of all the trauma around me, I had a serious book deadline, but the stress and sleep deprivation made it impossible to work, let alone find any semblance of creativity. As I felt like the world was closing in around me, plumes of smoke coming in from all directions, it seemed the safest decision was to leave LA. So, I moved up my existing flight to Argentina, where I knew the air and water were safe, and I could sleep without the constant stress of alerts.
At the point when I got onto the plane on January 12, my eyes were itchy, my skin was dry, I was sleep-deprived, fully in survival mode, and the best word to describe my condition would have been raw.
I flew to Mendoza, Argentina, a place I had not previously been and had been the most excited to visit, but upon arrival, I looked around me and knew I did not belong there. People were on holiday, laughing and enjoying their time, and my heart was still in LA. So many people in my life and larger community were suffering, and there is a sense of survivor’s guilt that comes with getting out and knowing I wouldn’t be subjecting my body to the same distresses anymore. I had 5 days before I was already scheduled to be there, and meet 16 strangers that I was meant to be doing my Argentina experience with. I had 5 days to get myself to a place where I could interact with other humans and not burst into tears. I had 5 days to get my book done if I had any hope of making my deadline. There was a lot to accomplish in that short amount of time. I am someone who works well under pressure, and was convinced I’d find the strength I needed to get it all done.
But all I could do was sleep. The first day, I slept for 15 hours, remembering the luxury of sleeping without notifications. Each of the days after was around 12 hours. Work was still impossible, and for the first time in my career as an author, I asked for an extension. I am someone who has always found another gear when it came to my professional life, and for the first time, I couldn’t. I gave myself grace, as they say, but I felt like this is the best book I’ve written thus far, and I needed to be present to do it justice.
Instead of seeing the city and indulging in local wine, I spent those 5 days cowering in my hotel room, continuing to monitor the Watch Duty alerts and check in on friends and neighbors. There were a lot of tears, a lot of food delivery, and a lot of mindless television. Trauma and guilt are a strange thing, especially when experienced on a mass scale like that. I didn’t lose my home (I know people who did), I had the resources to get myself far away to a place where I’d be safe (so many don’t have the privilege of prioritizing their mental and physical health in that way), and I have a flexible life and career such that I don’t need to return to LA until I feel it’s safe to be there (very few have that ability).
But there was still a lot to grieve and mourn. When I left, my outside areas were covered in ash, and it was hard not to think about what that ash comprised. It was the remnants of people’s lives: photographs, furniture, keepsakes, toys, and so much more. But a large part of the “more” was also toxic materials: car parts, paint, chemicals, and an endless array of plastic. This is what blanketed LA like snow. It’s hard to imagine what the rebuild will look like, or how many years or decades it will take. Humans were greatly impacted, but so were the flora and fauna of the area, which will now remain forever scarred and changed. It’s hard not to think about the short and long-term health ramifications that will come from this, especially for the first responders and everyone directly involved with combatting these fires. Then the next level would be everyone who stayed in the area and continued to breathe the air, use the water, and eat the food that has been sitting in smoky air or had ash settle around it. It is such devastation that, even in the best of circumstances, insurance wouldn’t cover the material cost of all that was lost, and that is not even counting the emotional damage. Cherished mementos that are now rubble, living only in memories.
At the time of writing this, the Palisades and Eaton fires were just fully contained a few days ago and the fires still burn within the perimeters. Sixty square miles that have burned for nearly an entire month. It is hard to even conceive of what that means. I cannot really fathom what it will look like when I return to LA and see what is left of the city I love. I had a nomadic childhood during which we moved every five years, and LA is the longest I have lived anywhere in my life. It is the first time that I have ever felt like home was a place rather than just being near my family. And I am anxious and ready to help build back the community I love.
Book 4 Update
I know this hasn’t been the typical newsletter, but it also has been a far from typical month. But there has been progress on my next novel. I did manage to turn in the draft a week later than expected, and I just found out that this draft that was completed in trauma mode has been accepted by my editors and is moving on to production. It means the heavy lifting of writing the story is over, and I have never been happier to receive such news. I am really proud of this novel, and feel like it is my most ambitious yet. It is bold and so is the US Cover, which I will be able to share with you soon. The Canadian cover is well in the works too and just stunning, and I hope to share them both within the next month.
Bookish People to Know
This month, I had the pleasure of chatting with Maya, who creates some amazing content on TikTok and Instagram that highlights the South Asian community, but also happens to swoon over many of the same books that I do. Her reels are so thoughtful and creative, and it’s addictive when you start scrolling through them.
Here’s a chance to get to know her better and pick up some of her favorite books (many of which also happen to be faves of mine too).
Maya, tell us a little about yourself, including something we might not otherwise know from your social media.
Hi! I'm based in Charlotte, North Carolina, where I love exploring used and indie bookstores. I enjoy advocating for more diverse bookshelves so everyone can see themselves and their stories represented. When I'm not reading, I enjoy spending time with friends and family and swimming laps.
As an avid lap swimmer myself, I can understand the calm that comes from being in the water. I only wish I could stream audiobooks while doing it, but it is meditative to completely unplug as well. Tell us what inspired you to start a bookstagram account.
When I was in high school, I remember hearing about booktok, and I went to check out the community for myself. Many of the most popular videos highlighted the same five books over and over, and I didn't see much content about the books I read and enjoyed. I was the resident person in my friend group for book recommendations, and I thought, if I can convince my friends to read my favorite books, why not the internet? I was really excited when I first started posting to discover a diverse and thriving booktok community that uplifted books by marginalized authors. The first few folks I met on booktok are still some of my close friends today!
It’s great to hear how social media has brought so many diverse book lovers together. What is a book that has stayed with you long after the last page, and what about it was so memorable?
One book that I really enjoyed was Kaikeyi by Vaishavi Patel. This Ramayana retelling is so special because it drew on the stories that I had grown up with, and it made me feel closer to my heritage and culture. I love the stories that are the foundation of Hinduism, but I think there are often problems with institutions that are never questioned or challenged. Kaikeyi is an exploration of unchecked power and the place of a mother in a Hindu society. I loved the critiques of Indian society, as well as the call to action to question the status quo. Reading a beloved story from a broader perspective is definitely a memorable experience – I think that's why retellings often stick with me long after I finish the last page.
Kaikeyi is a personal fave of mine, too, for all the reasons you said, and Vaishnavi did such a good job showing us another angle of the classic myth. What book have you read that makes you feel the most seen, and what about it resonated most with you?
When I read The Candid Life of Meena Dave by Namrata Patel, I felt seen as a South Asian woman who has often struggled with not feeling "South Asian" enough. This novel follows Meena, a young Indian woman who has been adopted by white parents but then moves into a building full of nosy Desi aunties -- and a cute Desi boy! I loved watching her get more comfortable embracing her identity, and also viewing South Asian culture as someone with one foot in and one foot out. That's often how I felt growing up in a community without a lot of connections. My family didn't grow up regularly meeting with the other South Asian families in our area, we didn't go to the temple every week, and we didn't have much family around. Growing up in the South can already be an isolating experience, even more so when you feel like you don't fit in with the predominantly white community or the niche South Asian "in-groups." Many of the chapters in The Candid Life of Meena Dave are filled with self-reflection, and her voice often echoed the one in my own head during middle and high school.
Two things: (1) Namrata Patel is a good friend, and I adore this book, and (2) I also grew up in predominantly white spaces and can relate to all the the things you mentioned. We could talk for hours about that, but for now, what is a book you wish more people knew about?
One book that I think is really underrated is Late Bloomers by Deepa Varadarajan. This book is about a dysfunctional Desi family, and all four of them are finding love while also navigating really awkward and uncomfortable family dynamics with each other. The novel is laugh-out-loud funny while also revealing some hard truths about our Desi culture.
I felt the same about Late Bloomers. Loved it, and wish more people would pick it up. What was the last book that made you laugh?
I absolutely loved Margo’s Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe. Margo was a hot mess, but she never failed to make me laugh. Her desperation and determination were constantly rubbing off on each other, and the novel was a poignant story about what it's like to be a twenty something who is constantly vying for more, more, more. In this day and age, I think it's incredibly difficult to make ends meet, and this book is all about the rise of the side hustle, and how far one woman will go to provide for herself and her family.
I did an event with the Rufi Thorpe and she’s just as funny in person. Switching gears, what is the last book that made you cry?
Farah Naz Rishi will never fail to write a book that pulls that the heartstrings. Her recent nonfiction memoir, Sorry for the Inconvenience, made me sob like a baby. Sneakily disguised as a romance about how Farah met her match, it's actually about her thorny relationship with her family. Many of the personal anecdotes mirrored those from my own life, especially her chaotic relationship with her parents. I also loved how she wrote about finding love, especially the transition from platonic love into romantic love. Farah Naz Rishi actually wrote this book in response to a viral TikTok about how they met their husband. It's incredible how the overwhelming response to a single video turned into an emotional and raw bestselling novel. Farah is an incredibly masterful writer, and this book is a testament to the fact that she is able to craft a story while also factoring in reader interest and input.
I haven’t read this one yet, but it’s immediately going on my TBR. I had no idea about the TikTok background to that book. What types of books would you like to see more of on the shelves?
I'd love to see more South Asian romance and coming-of-age novels that are not centered around arranged marriage or complicated mother-daughter relationships. I think those two tropes are pretty tired and overused, and I'd love to see tension created by something other than marital pressure on a daughter. I recently read I Might Be In Trouble by Daniel Aleman, and it's a fun, campy, satirical, queer contemporary novel that explores one failing writer trying to hide a dead body. A South Asian thriller about a confused girl trying to hide a dead body would be very much up my alley, as would more literary fiction about Desi girls flailing in their career and making bad decision after bad decision. Maybe even a South Asian sentient romance....? Probably not, but a girl can dream.
Recent Read
This was my first novel by Rachel Khong, and I cannot wait to read more. This story had a plot twist that I didn’t see coming and really made me think. It deftly deals with race, immigration, assimilation, multicultural identity, and genetics in a way that is both sweeping and profound as it discusses three generations of a family. At a time when the US government seems to be questioning “Who gets to be American?”, stories like these need to rise to the forefront, and I hope you give this one a read.
Thank you all for your support as I navigated the wildfires and this latest book deadline. Your messages to make sure I was safe meant so much to me during such a time of crisis. I am writing this newsletter from Ushuaia, Argentina, and today, I’m departing for a bucket list trip and I can’t wait to share more about that with you next month.
xo,
mansi
Sending you thoughts of comfort and peace and rest during this terrible time.