October 16th, 2010

10/16/2010 ~ In the mines

People are crazy and times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

– Bob Dylan, Things have changed

How many people a day are diagnosed with “mild-to-severe” depression? Don’t know, but some of us have always known we are on that list of what a friend of mine calls the walking dysfunctional. I’d call myself walking depressed, but I’m a lot more than walking – I’m laundry doing, dog walking, cat wrestling, curry making, child cheering, child rearing, child pick-up-and-drop-offing and drop-off and pick-upping (takes concentration and focus to remember this stuff- they call them schedules around here), grocery shopping, carpet vacuuming, porch sweeping, poo lifting, cock sucking… oh now come on, depressed people don’t do that, do they? Oh what, they don’t? oh well then. Well. Anyway. I’m writing Carnal Prose, remember, these things slip in.

I watched the 33 being reborn from the birth canal pierced through the skin and flesh of earth, she held them in her womb, dark and hot. Or was it a prison she had locked them into because they stole from her, again and again, tearing through her body and soul, wounding and killing her slowly by tearing off pieces they didn’t even need anymore…   I guess I’m being fanciful. They were just men, poor miners, with women and children. They worked hard for a hard living, and I was thrilled and moved to see that metal cylinder emerge from the ground with an intact human being in it. I cried.

Will these miners, having been as low in the depths as a man can get, always be happy now? will they forever after appreciate life and love and time, having come so close to being buried alive, and left slowly to die? Will they choose not to ever go again into the physical depths, but also the metaphorical ones? or is it not a matter of choice at all? do we all just succumb to life and chemicals? Serotonin, dopamine, melatonin? (Something comes to mind about free will, but I’ll let it go.) And, when it isn’t possible to keep up the look of function anymore, do we then go looking for some solution – a pill, an herb, a practice, love in changing times? It’s true, and gets truer every day – I used to care, but things have changed.

October 11th, 2010

10/11/2010 ~ Bob Dylan, Tallahassee Fl.

Bob Dylan is, as always, apocalyptic and epic and announces the end of the world. I feel times are not changing, they are almost gone. He tells me, “it’s going to end, and it’s going to end badly…”  Makes me want to hurry up and write, love, sleep, play, be. I have listened, sometimes unwillingly, to Dylan since I was seven. I was uncomfortable when I was younger and did not understand what he was talking about, I probably had an inkling of what I would understand when I did. Now that I do, I am even more uncomfortable. The moment he says, “how does it feeeel…” I tear up and break down.

I went to the Museum of Sex in New York city. My companion and I discovered that Hedy Lamarr’s were the first breasts seen on celluloid, and that eyes are not the only organs exaggerated to excess in Japanese cartoons. When I was much younger and spent some time in Japan, I remember thinking the Japanese cartoon characters were the only ones that bled. I’m not sure, but they may also be the only ones, or at least the first, to have sex.

There were sculptures and science exhibits (sexuality in animals) and funny stuff and kinky stuff and of course sexy stuff. I got to compare the body parts of the latex covered ‘real dolls’ to the real thing – from memory – the latex man was cool and a bit sweaty. He did nothing for me and my companion other than make us laugh.

My fourteen year old was not allowed in to the Museum of Sex. State law does not allow anyone under eighteen in. At seventeen you can enlist in the army with parental consent. So state law allows parents to decide if  kids can go out to kill or be killed. But their sex ed? The state decides the appropriate age for that.

And now, it’s back to work. I guess it will be inappropriate for my children to read my books. Maybe they will be sold in the Museum of Sex.

September 30th, 2010

9/30/2010 ~ Writing this…

Working on another brutal deadline, and I upped the stakes for myself by taking on the editing for “Madhouse: True Stories of the Inmates of Hostel 4”. This was a wonderful project, and I am very glad I did it. But boy has that got me in the weeds… Still, I will be on target, and deliver my next book by the end of the year.

Some thoughts on writing it:

Why is it hard to write erotica? For sure, it’s hard. A friend asked me, joking, if I am “scared by my own ghost story.” The answer is, it takes so much concentration, such focus on the physical-mental-emotional state of the characters in each story that I forget myself. So no, I am not scared by my own ghost story. Or, to be clear, I am not turned on by my own erotic story. For me, writing sex and sexuality is very much a mind exercise, more than any other kind of writing I have done thus far.

It is very hard to stay where I want to. I don’t want the focus of any of my stories to be on sex or sexuality in an overt way – it has to be part of the story, of the people in the story. And sometimes the characters don’t play along. They do what they want, and sometimes they don’t want to be sexual. Maybe I should not have committed to write to such a narrow spec. But I have, and it’s interesting, to say the least.

This is the first post about writing, I may do more. It is interesting to pay attention to the process this time, something I haven’t done before…

The first thing I did was name the kind of writing I intend for this book. So after I finished my first story, I did just that: I named the book. It helps me to keep this in mind, it keeps me where I want to be.

It will be called

Slither: Carnal Prose by Urmilla Deshpande

Yes, Carnal Prose. My own genre. I am delighted by my own brilliance. I hope it doesn’t end with the title.

September 28th, 2010

9/28/2010 ~ Review Kashmir Blues

http://simplyani.wordpress.com/2010/09/26/book-review-kashmir-blues/#comment-1810

September 20th, 2010

9/20/2010 ~ Curious Book Fans interview

http://www.curiousbookfans.co.uk/2010/creative/4271/urmilla-deshpande-talks-to-curious-book-fans

CBF: How did you suddenly decide on Kashmir as the main setting for this novel? Was it because of the current political crisis?

UD: I didn’t suddenly decide on “Kashmir” as the setting. This book was written in 2003-2004, not recently. I was interested in individuals who decide to stand against a power much greater than themselves, such as a government. I didn’t know much about it. The other thing I would like to say is that no matter how closely fiction is based on, or resembles reality or the real world, it is fiction. The Kashmir in my book is no more real, I think, than is the Alexandria in Durrell’s quartet or the London that Sherlock Holmes lives in.

CBF: The theme of wealth for protection is unusual. How did you happen to decide on that?

UD: Wealth, power, and distribution of resources is how the world works. Most rebellion takes place where there is an unequal or inequitable of resources. Anywhere in the world, the group with the most wealth has the most protection. I don’t know if it is an unusual theme for a novel – I don’t think it is – but it is certainly not an unusual theme in the scheme of things!

CBF: As most writers are asked, are any of the characters in Kashmir Blues based on people you know?

UD: Every character is based on people I know, or have read about, or have encountered in life, movies, even heard about. Most are composites of all these, and myself       too. Leon is the one I identify with most. Naia, slightly aloof, impenetrable, a catalyst more than a doer, came out just right for me. Many readers complained that she was a “cold, unlikable protagonist” – but that’s how she is, cold and unlikable. And I don’t think the book has a single protagonist. But she represents many people I have known, and found hard to reach, or just plain disliked.

CBF: What inspires you most when you start to write? Is it a person, a newsflash? What?

UD: Hard to answer this question. I think all through life we watch and absorb and think and react – and all of that comes into a book as it gets written. Usually I start a book because of a feeling I have. I’ve written just two, and the starting points for both were quite different. The first – Kashmir Blues – I just wanted to tell a story. The second, A Pack of Lies, had a lot of my own experiences as a starting point. The nextbook I’m working on is almost a challenge from my editor – she wanted me to edit an anthology of erotic short stories – and I said, after hearing what editing meant, “seems easier to write it myself” – and she said I should! I have just finished editing a book of anecdotes from the students of IIT Bombay about their life there in the ’80s – and am starting on the short stories. It’s not easy… but I am enjoying the work. And, I have to deliver the manuscript by the 30th of November.

CBF: Who are your favourite authors?

UD: The list is long, I’ll make it short – Jane Austen, Kurt Vonnegut, Borges, Marquez, Jane Austen, Steinbeck, Asimov, Lawrence Durrell, and – did I mention – Jane Austen!


September 19th, 2010

‘Kashmir Blues’ reviewed on a new site for book lovers (the reviewer didn’t like it much!)

CURIOUS BOOK FANS

Everyone knows a Kashmiri shawl wala or carpet seller – they arrive with the coming of autumn carrying treasures of colour in their autumn leaf brown bundles. And then they disappear with spring for months on end and you occasionally, reading about disturbances in the Valley, you wonder whether they will reappear. At the heart of Urmila Deshpande’s novel is Samaad, a carpet seller who speaks the Queen’s English because he happened to have been educated in England. He is a man with a mission – he has discovered a mineful of priceless Kashimiri sapphires, the Kashmir Blues of the titles and he wants to use the sapphires to ensure peace for the part of the Valley in which he lives….

Read the review at

http://www.curiousbookfans.co.uk/2010/fiction-books/4164/kashmir-blues-urmila-deshpande

August 21st, 2010

8/21/2010 Deccan Herald Interview/Review

Lead review
Cinematic imagery
Monideepa Sahu
Urmilla Deshpande’s ‘Kashmir Blues’ is a story written with deep compassion and even the darkest characters are humane, says Monideepa Sahu
Kashmir Blues takes in its expansive narrative sweep the characters’ lives from southern California to the seedy streets of Mumbai, to the charmed circles of India’s rich and powerful, and to Kashmir, strife-torn vale of guns and flowers. Insurgency, socio-political unrest, smuggling, drugs, espionage and conflict cast their shadows. Yet this is a story told with deep compassion. Even the most potentially evil characters can startle by revealing positive human and humane facets. As the author says, “I don’t think either sapphires in my book or diamonds in West Africa are the basis of strife. Nor is religious fundamentalism. It is the inequitable distribution of resources, structural poverty, that sends people into conflict and civil war. Institutionalised injustice.”

Author Urmilla Deshpande began writing relatively later in life, though she always wrote and told stories. “Living in America without a work permit, between doing laundry, cooking, dishes, driving kids around, my mind wandered into strange territories. Writing may have been an escape from the intense grief of my mother’s death, and slow acceptance of her non-existence. Kashmir Blues is an escape, totally unrelated to my own life. It distracted me, yet gave me purpose.”

While there is no direct connection between the author’s life and the book, she chose to write about Kashmir and the divide caused by growing religious fundamentalism. “Maybe it wasn’t flashes of inspiration, “she explains,” but observation, experience, memory, everything I see and read and hear that is fodder for stories. I have to suppress fear of disapproval and consideration for peoples’ feelings and just write. I have been a photographer, but not like Leon, and I have smoked ganja on occasion but didn’t have a drug dependency, I was not adopted or stolen nor did I lose my parents, or child. And, I have never been to Kashmir. It’s a made-up story. Maybe living in post 9/11 America, or editing a book on civil wars had something to do with it, but these are all fragments of what’s around. I guess I just steal from everything.”

The unique Kashmir blue sapphires, the legendary tears of Shiva; the beautiful Kashmiri carpet symbolic of the land and its unravelling with growing strife; the ubiquitous brown dog which seems to follow Leon everywhere; the importance of taking, or breaking free from the spell of drugs; myriad enduring images bind Kashmir Blues. Urmilla Deshpande’s writing displays a cinematic quality. “While writing I feel as if I follow the action,” she says, “in the minds of characters and what happens around them. Like watching a movie and taking notes. I’m not saying it is mystical and ‘comes to me’. More, it’s free association of memories and experiences coalescing into a narrative. I find it hard to go back and say why something happened a particular way. I had to make the changes and address flaws my lovely editor pointed out, but I go back reluctantly. Because then I start reading it as a reader, and inconsistencies and doubts pop up.”

The ‘tears of Shiva’ is made up from stories Urmilla’s mother-in-law told of sapphires bringing bad luck. While the author herself isn’t into religion, superstition, or jewels in real life, she found these ideas interesting.

“As for the brown dog, he’s always around, isn’t he?” Urmilla quips with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Naia and her deep bond with Leon, the photographer with the urge to self-destruct; Samaad the well-educated and far-sighted carpet dealer and warlord in the making; Frank the addicted German wanderer; Viren the diplomat; Saroj who mourns the public loss of her daughter and the private loss of sexual fulfilment; the main players in the story are clearly and credibly portrayed. However, there is an odd note in the rather filmi melodramatic way in which Naia is adopted.

“This incident was one of the major changes I made in the editing process” Urmilla says.“I would have loved to leave it vague with not much explanation. But that might have led to different questions about inconsistency! It’s hard to write for everyone, and I don’t do that. I have to be clear myself. I love that you find it filmi—maybe someone will make this into a filmi film—starring Jeremy Piven as Leon (It has to be Jeremy Piven). Writing is a delight and a pleasure in itself. But it’s short lived. After that, my fulfilment comes from readers’ interpretations. People bring themselves to the books they read—and I am always surprised by what they come up with.”

As for the ideas and inspirations behind the characters, Urmilla shares how her mother once said that characters write themselves. “I thought her a bit mad, but find (as we do about our parents) that she was right. Once characters come to life, it’s hard to make them act in inconsistent ways without putting them in situations where they would break character, or reveal some unseen part of themselves.” Once Urmilla began to write Anne, her depression, her infertility, her fascination with babies and her distress over the street children in Bombay all led up to that moment when she did what she did. One of her favourite people  in the book is Saroj.

“I felt her, heard her voice more than any other. Odd, because I have almost nothing in common with her. I am unable to explain where these people come from or why they do what they do. It is a fast process for me, the actual writing of a novel, but I think life and experience should be counted as part of the process. In which case I would have to say, I’ve been preparing every day of my life to be a writer, and when I was ready, I wrote!”
Urmilla plans to go back to two unfinished novels as soon as she is done with erotic short stories that she took on almost as a challenge from Prita Maitra, her editor. Though she has never written erotic before—not intentionally as a genre anyway – she’s found it “fun so far.” She has also completed editing a book about IIT Bombay’s Hostel four.

August 15th, 2010

Skimmer

I was at the beach with a dear friend who is one of those modern, connected people who keeps his friends and family in touch with his every hour. As I sat in a tired heap on a beach chair after a dose of sun and deliciously warm gulf water, a pod of dolphins rolled by us, displaying their fins and re-energizing us all. I saw a black skimmer slice the water looking for food.

I am in a writing slump – this is not writer’s block really, more of writer’s  laze. I thought a day at the beach would bring me back to my senses, and it did. There is something about the ocean that is both validating and terrifying at the same time – and maybe they are one and the same thing – the simplicity and smallness of being human. We who live on or near the gulf don’t take it for granted anymore, if we ever did. So there is an added pathos to that beauty. I am constantly aware that it is not so large or robust an environment that an act of human greed could not damage it irreparably. I pay greater attention to every little thing, I treat each beach day as if it might be my last.

I returned home and told a neighbor excitedly that we saw dolphins. “I know”, she says, I read it on such and so’s face book page” (she means the friend who was with me at the beach). I am disappointed. I have no beef with the people who transmit their lives to their friends and family, it is a form of communication for them, and they are welcome to it. But I would like the choice to communicate my life in the way I want. I don’t know the solution to this – I am not disturbed by it enough to designate myself a Facebook Free zone, but I do wonder if it isn’t a kind of invasion of my privacy. I mean, there may be people to whom I want to describe my experience myself, and there may be some I don’t want to know that I was even at the beach instead of home trying to meet my deadline.

For those of you who might wonder what a skimmer is – here is a photo. Black Skimmer, Rynchops niger. The skimmer is one of the oddest birds I have ever seen, and one of the most elegant too.

Black Skimmer

August 8th, 2010

Nice review, full of spoilers, and an odd illustration…

http://www.deccanchronicle.com/tabloids/valley-deep-emotions-995

July 30th, 2010

About to write…

Saint George Island

So, even though I am not writing at the moment, I assure myself that I am collecting material. Looking, seeing, smelling, tasting, eating, listening – it’s all data collection. It will, I tell myself, churn about, or maybe just sit there and ripen, and surely and quickly turn into a clever, or dour, or exciting, or, most hopefully, erotic stream of words that will get me to my deadline. Working/not working – toward a collection of erotic short stories. Erratic.

Kashmir Blues and A Pack of Lies are sitting on Amazon’s shelves collecting cyber dust. I write because I want to. But I do now wish for my writing to be read. I would give it away free, but then, in this world it would be judged as worthless. Also, potatoes and health insurance don’t come free, or art and literature would be too. I’d write for my own delight, and then for the thanks and praise after (abuse would be fine too, it would mean the abuser read my writing). And I’d eat potatoes and be well.

There’s no oil on the beach where I was working last week. They said it was a hundred miles to the west of us, and probably wouldn’t make it there. Trucks and booms lay ready and waiting though, just in case. I collected a lot of sand and salt wind and serenity. Monday morning, there will be words.