C: Clarification, Conscience And Confidence - IWSG

The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day for participating blog owners who may be professional or amateur writers. (All you need is the passion and output, published or not). Started by Alex Cavanaugh the author of the sci-fi space opera CassaStar and sequel CassaFire, it is a means for writers to talk about their fears big and small. It is also an opportunity to connect to other writers who may have conquered these or are sailing in the same insecure boat as you.

I ddin't join the A-Z bandwagon this year, not with the temperatures up in the 100s (37 C) and climbing. But, if I had, this would have been my entry for C. It could also fall under P:Paid reviewer.

C: Clarification Now, before you rush to the comment tab to bombard me with your opinions, hear me out, especially if your thoughts are in sync with this gentleman.

To read more on this, read this link 
http://www.thebookdesigner.com/2012/08/should-authors-pay-for-book-reviews/

Yes, I have recently joined a company that pays me for reviewing books. And, no, it doesn't mean I will never review books for free as I won't be getting more than one or two assignments a month.
I will continue to do 4-5 free reviews every month, a review a week. I will stop reviewing for the said company the day they they ask me to pad up my reviews. I have been honest all my life and I am not going to sell my conscience for a few dollars.

C: Conscience
Those who have been with me on this blogging journey know me fairly well. Those who have read my reviews know that they are detailed analysis of the book in question with my inputs as a reader. When I joined this book review group, I had some questions twirling in my mind.

My checklist was :
Will I be allowed to post honest, unbiased reviews? Yes.
Will I be expected to bluff and fluff up my review? No.
Will my review be worth the money? Yes. The authors may differ on this, but my reviews are as detailed and honest as before and long ones too.

The Company's FAQ

What do you guarantee?

We are going to monitor the site and we randomly select reviewers to monitor and track their jobs and check quality of reviewers if they don't get the reviews in a timely fashion.

We want to be clear that we do not guarantee a positive review. In no way will we tell the reviewer what to write. We want our reviewers to have the freedom to be honest and xxxxx will not work under unethical conditions. Also, we can't guarantee a 5 star review. We ask the reviewer to give their own personal thoughts and opinions of what they read. Remember, it may not be exactly what you wanted or expected but it will be from your reading audience. Honest reviews go much further with the readers than a fluffy, raving review. You can earn our "seal" of approval on your book when the reviewer rates it with 5 stars. Our seal can be used on the author's site or blog or be posted directly on your review.

We do not assign books to the reviewers; you choose the reviewer to review your book(s). Carefully evaluate the reviewers, look at their prior reviews and check out what they like to read to ensure it's a perfect match. If you have questions, you can send them a message on the portal. Reviewers have been encouraged to keep an unbiased outlook on all reviews.

xxxxx highly recommends you ensure the reviewer will be a "good fit" for your book by reading their bios and looking at their samples thoroughly.

C: Confidence

What are the benefits of entering a controversial arena? 
Kirkus's paid freelance reviewers and paid newspaper reviewers are respected but not an individual reviewer who  rarely finds opportunities to be compensated for  the time and effort spent reading books, and some really bad ones at times.

I get paid for doing something I like, something that keeps me mentally stimulated.
I get a entire day off from writing blog posts and web articles for money - to read other books  and my own collection - and provide free reviews for bloggers, indie authors who can't pay, with two such reviews - as an Indian earning in dollars.

It may not be Kirkus or Publishers Weekly that I am working with; it isn't even 1/10 th of what they charge an indie author for a negative, bashing blurb they call reviews. What it does is supplement my income, and keeps my insomniac mind at ease knowing that neither am I a generic five-stars-for-all-books kind of reviewer nor a sock-puppet for an author bashing up another's book.

Don't believe that honest paid reviews are possible, just wait till my review gets posted.

The only thing I can guarantee with both types of reviews is that the book will be read without any bias. Free reviews of three stars and above will  continue to get posted within one-three months on this blog, and I will continue to beta read when asked to and have no time constraints. 


PS: Did you know which one of my review samples got me this assignment - my review on CassaStar.

If you choose to unfollow me or stop visiting my blog, you are free to do so.

A Multicultural Romance in the Making - A Review

Love Comes Later -  Mohanlakshmi Rajkumar
Publishers - Amazon
Genre - Contemporary - romance - realistic fiction - women's fiction
Novel - Ebook - 262  Pages
Price: Price $ 0.99

Available at Amazon Kindle Store

Blurb:

Hind is granted a temporary reprieve from her impending marriage to Abdulla, her cousin. Little does anyone suspect that the presence of Sangita, her Indian roommate, may shake a carefully constructed future. Torn between loyalties to Hind and a growing attraction to Abdulla, Sangita must choose between friendship and a burgeoning love. 

A modern quest for the right to pursue love and happiness, even when it comes in an unconventional package, LOVE COMES LATER explores similarities between the South Asian and Arab cultures while exposing how cultural expectations affect both men and women. Identities are tested and boundaries questioned against the shifting backdrops of Doha, Qatar and London, England.


A contemporary romance with elements of realistic fiction. The story has a strong Qatari flavour blended with South Asian and offers a tantalising view of student life in London as a bonus.
A refreshing tale of love and friendship that overcomes cultural, religious and racial barriers. It starts out in the plush interiors of an affluent family in oil money endowed Qatar, seeking the remarriage of a widowed, still grieving son Abdulla who wants anything but that. The culture is primarily seen from the eyes of Abdulla and Hind, and later on through Sangita - Hind's Indian American room-mate and friend. It's their reluctance to follow traditions, and Hind's impulsive demonstration of independence and adventure that sets off Abdulla's and Sangita's worlds into a collision course of first, tentative friendship and later on love.

The characters and the situations have been created skilfully and their interaction comes off as real as possible. The author has tried hard to give an accurate picture of Qatari life and attitudes, specially towards South Asians who form the blue collar workforce without sounding preachy or condescending.

Abdulla, a strong character, comes across as inflexible a couple of times but redeems himself as a modern, religious Muslim. I really enjoyed his opening up to the world around, specially to Sangita and his adopted sister Luluwa.
 Hind - a tad selfish and Sangita are well etched, and I found myself amused when the Indian girl who advises her friend to play safe goes on her own adventure, risking everything.
The secondary characters of Luluwa and Hind's sister Noor, often two extremes were ones I found interesting. While I loved Sangita's brother - idealistic but lovable character Ravi, it was Grandfather Jassim and Hind's father - uncle Saod who were a revelation in sharp contrast to the other elders in the family.

Now for the nit picking -
In my opinion, Abdulla and Sangita's romance did not have the time to develop enough for her to burn all the bridges...it kind of ends up as an arranged marriage. But, then, they didn't fall in love at first sight and the author, to my delight, refrained from gushing descriptions of the protagonists beauty. A plus.
The Indians in the book, Sangita's parents came close to being caricatures.

The timeline was a bit confusing in some places.  A couple of dialogues were responses to an original action or comment that had been edited out. A revision if possible would enhance the book.

All in all, it was a pleasurable read and one of few romances I have truly enjoyed reading lately.
The book is well written, flows smoothly and the use of Arabic words in the story and the end notes are a nice addition.

I recommend this book to romance lovers, to those who enjoy realistic fiction set in the Asian and Arab world with ethnic characters, to generally anyone looking for a good book to immerse in.

I give this a 4 rating for simply being a good old fashioned romance story and a multicultural book.

Personal Disclaimer: This book was received for the purpose of review, hence the post in entirety is my basic impression after reading the book. It is not based on intervention by the author, publishing house or the blog review forum.

Time And Tide Wait Not For This One - IWSG

The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day for participating blog owners who may be professional or amateur writers. (All you need is the passion and output, published or not). Started by Alex Cavanaugh the author of the sci-fi space opera CassaStar and sequel CassaFire, it is a means for writers to talk about their fears big and small. It is also an opportunity to connect to other writers who may have conquered these or are sailing in the same insecure boat as you.

My insecurity is a simple one - a race against time that seems to move in just one direction - forward - atleast in our space dimensions. 

There are dozens of stories floating in my head with little time to capture them all. I don't quite know how others manage it, juggling so many different roles in life.

 I work from home, am single with limited social obligations/opportunities, and yet, I can't seem to find time to put together a small book. When I do make time for the stories that my heart longs to reveal, I end up with a blank page.

Do I deserve to be called a creative writer when I have hardly written in the last six months? Poetry has eloped from my mind garden with Dreamer. I see her sometimes, just a wisp of thin air that drifts away when I utter her name.

Is time alone to blame or is there a dark force at work that I am blissfully unaware of?

So many questions and fewer minutes to answer them.

Love Eclipsed? - Romantic Friday Writers

Time for another round of  RFW - Romatic Friday Writers February Challenge

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings among other things in this fan fiction spoof are the property of Stephanie Meyer, author of the Twilight series of books. The original characters and original plot are the property of author Stephanie Meyer. This author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material pertaining to the Twilight series of books or the Twilight motion pictures. No copyright infringement is intended in this fan fiction.

*A disclaimer for my readers...this follows the first person account of Bella and uses long, extraneous sentences as found in the original books. The setting is towards the end of the second book - New Moon where Bella, Edward and Alice are held hostage by the Volturi - the vampire royalty while in Italy. Bella's knowledge of the existence of vampires threatens their secret existence in the world. Unlike her beau and his family of vegetarian vampires, these are true, cold blooded vampires who prey on humans.*

We stood in the red room - Alice and me, not Edward - as you will find out soon enough, surrounded by red eyed men and women who looked more like diminutive porcelain dolls that  licked their lips every other second. Yes, I have been keeping count, nothing much to do as usual for me. I turned around at the noise as Felix snarled/smirked at me. I can never tell the difference with these pale, stoned faced monsters even after spending all my spare time with a similar pack of seven back home.

Hush! Bella! these are not monsters. 
I caught Alice's eyes long enough to find disapproval there and I rejoiced, only to be dejected a minute later for the glare in her golden eyes was directed at me.
I tried to erase my thoughts but it was too late, reminding me of the disadvantages of living with a seer, a sore point with Edward. He claimed and I had counter argued, and now I realised what how right he had been.

He had proclaimed to be a monster, not good enough for me. He was no monster, my Edward, he had proved it today, falling into an silent, unsightly heap on the floor diagonally across from me, no match for Aro's boys. I see him for the first time, his true self, an ageless but delicate, sparkling creature that called itself a vegetarian vampire.

Boy, was he way off when he said, "Bella, you are not good for me.'"
The bright smile flashed and my heart ached to see "him" in person once more. 
When I get out this mess alive, I am making amends to Jake. Will he take me back?
Edward was cold and icy to hot bodied Jake. His kisses, duh, if you could call those pathetic attempts one, fleeting, neither here nor there. 
Am I glad these pale faces cannot read my mind.

"There you go again," The wolfish smile on Alice's face said it all. I let myself be content with images of Jake tinkering with my bike, and being held in his hot, sweaty arms.
"Dream on, Bella. Edward is a classic stalker boyfriend who will not leave you alone now." She said to me, her voice so soft I could barely hear it. "I am sorry, Alice." 
"You owe me one." her words as cryptic as Aro's smile.

****
All I remember is being dragged through the dark, damp tunnel that went on and on.
"My heart hurts." I said to no one in particular.
"Sorry Bella, I forget my vampiric strength sometimes," The pixie looked very happy. "Let's go shopping."
I groaned. "You owe me one, remember." "Where is Edward?"  I had to ask out of sheer politeness, not that I cared.
As the door bell rang, she muttered, "Just in time." "I'll pick you up at 3. Have something, I can hear your stomach grumble." She vanished as always, not before yelling, "Don't wear your grandma clothes!"
Jake stood at the door. I caught my breath. I was going to faint. He held me, a little too tightly for comfort.
He sniffed the air angrily. Was Edward in the house?  I looked around, afraid and irritated. 
He turned to me, "Tell your leech friend, all the perfumes in the world can't hide her stink from us."
I relaxed and grinned when he whispered,"Just the two of us now. He's gone, that leech of yours."
"Where?" A stab of guilt tore at my heart. "He chose to be Aro's bodyguard." 
***
 My life was no longer dark. .A streak of blinding light illuminated my twilight sky. Bella was not that streak of light as I has long believed, Renata was. Bella's brain held no secrets. Renata, my partner, had shown me that. I had made a promise to Alice and I kept it. Bella was not my first kill, someone close to her had been. Jake was in for a nasty surprise when he went home tonight.
***
666 words (suprising isn't it?)

Hi folks, I am attempting a story after two long months...don't be too hard on me.

I was the guest at Nutschell's blog for Wednesday Writers Workspace...Do visit to know about my writing habits and a bit about me.

Writer's block or Writer bollocks- IWSG

The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day for participating blog owners who may be professional or amateur writers. (All you need is the passion and output, published or not). Started by Alex Cavanaugh the author of the sci-fi space opera CassaStar and sequel CassaFire, it is a means for writers to talk about their fears big and small. It is also an opportunity to connect to other writers who may have conquered these or are sailing in the same insecure boat as you.

A month has passed since I lasted updated this site and Google gave me a thumbs down for my so called writer's block - they called out on my bollocks (bullocks if that makes you feel less threatened) by downgrading my page rank from 3 to 2. Not that I mind, as this blog was a personal outlet for anger and frustration - which turned into a sort of showcase for my limited talent. Just that the freelance writer can no longer point out, with a fair amount of pride, to this beautiful home production on professional networks for quite a while.

Which brings us to the moot question, does writer's block really exist or it just an imagined state of mind used as an unwilling, unwitting scapegoat to cover up our laziness or preoccupation with other areas of life?

Can't I just say, I am so tired from writing crap copy for little more than peanuts, maybe dates, that my brain pretends to have a stroke when it comes updating this blog, forget about working on my fiction or poetry?
Truth be told, I have been missing this baby like a heroin addict just out of a failed rehab effort. While writing in isolation is still mandatory, blogging in isolation is no longer an option, not when I have a supportive community of writers that I call friends.

Relocating from cool Bangalore to pleasant for now Chennai hasn't been easy either, more withdrawal symptoms and then the farewell gift - finding that your best friend from college no longer wants to meet you in person.
The questions come pouring in, do my blog friends want to me meet me via these pages, do my characters miss me, and then Eureka, it hits me...do I miss all this?

I do, I do and so...before I chase you away, there is no writing block, not for me, just a matter of carving an hour or two and  pressing some buttons or keystrokes till something gives. A blog schedule helps too as does creating this toon...

By Rekha Seshadri | View this Toon at ToonDoo | Create your own Toon

A New Beginning

Sunset at Bangalore 31/12/2012 5.50 pm

IWSG - A Rejuvenated ME

The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day for participating blog owners who may be professional or amateur writers. (All you need is the passion and output, published or not). Started by Alex Cavanaugh the author of the sci-fi space opera CassaStar and sequel CassaFire, it is a means for writers to talk about their fears big and small. It is also an opportunity to connect to other writers who may have conquered these or are sailing in the same insecure boat as you.

My first post in over two months.

No insecurities just some blog changes given my two year journey.
I am at a better place than I was when I started out two years ago, I have never written more words- fiction or otherwise even in my so called heydays or heady youthful days.

I no longer fervently aspire to get some hard nosed Ezine to publish my work or despair at my lack of productivity in terms of a published book.

I am publishing, and on my blog (full creative control, if you ask me). I hope to make it a proper outlet with a domain name et al...have more guests telling their stories, doing more book reviews and goofy/smart musings on the quirks of life and thought.

Enjoy this Bangalore Sunset while you are here.

Thanks to everyone here who made me feel special...this blog will go on as long as I can write words and entice or entrap a few visitors along the way. ;P

Magic Realism And Three Women - A Review

Fractured Legends -  Kranthi Askani
Publishers - APK Publisher
Genre - Speculative fiction - Contemporary fantasy - magic realism - women's fiction
Novel - Paperback - 200  Pages
Price: Rs 192
Available at Flipkart.com/Indiaplaza.com  (India)

Blurb:
We are like the moths that follow invisible spiral loops to go round and round a flickering flame before jumping into the center leaving in their wake, a glowing red sore in the eye of the flame,” says the narrator, a temple slave. Priyambada makes up her mind to leave the temple where she melt into flesh at night and froze into statue by the morning. She renounces her immortal chalices, the temple facades, for a mortal life, for a life in flesh... But the tangles of life in flesh – marriage and bearing children – thrust her into a world of tribulations that cast her off into the past, sealed past, frozen past...
Nandhini, a professional assassin, is plagued by an assignment to retrieve a mysterious manuscript that is smeared with a rope of blood across its pages. She finds herself in the midst of a complex game of deceit and rivalry between two factions... Pravalli is drafting a very long letter to her mother. She is grieving, glowering, repenting, atoning....
Fractured Legend is the story of these three women who are sailing away from their turbulent pasts, the denouement puzzlingly curling them all together into one tight ribbon of hope...

This narrative follows the lives of three women - Priyambada who as a temple slave is immortal, but forgoes it for a human life and goes through the cycle of marriage & childbirth. Though she can't make a clear break from her past; she is happy in her new life. Nandhini is a trained assassin eliminating people for a price. She is entrapped by a close relative to kill someone related to her job, and for the first time in her life wonders at the futility of it all. Pravalli, on the other hand, is estranged from her mother Priyamvada over the secrets of the past, and is writing a letter of forgiveness and trying to come in terms with her mother's behaviour. The story progresses through the eyes, actions and reactions of the three female protagonists.

I liked the use of magic realism to get the tale across. That the book is based on a female perspective focusing on the trials and tribulations of Indian women (some of these aspects have universal connotation) makes it interesting enough to plow through the slow first 1/3 of the book.

The author had tried to portray the heroines (each of them is one in their own right) in a humane, understanding and empathic manner. He has attempted to infuse a vintage feel to the grey of contemporary realities. The concept is intriguing enough, and comes as breath of fresh air among all the college romances and chick-lits floating on the Indian book scene. It shows a side of India, applicable to many regions of the world, where women are struggling to assert themselves, while being bound to often well meaning but grossly misused traditions and customs.

 If you can leave aside all rational expectations of the world we inhabit, the book has the ability to move you with the sadness, pain and loneliness of the three women. The secondary characters, especially the husband - Priyamvada’s and son - Nandhini’s stand out, though their presence in the book is limited. The women move back and forth through their memories, dream a lot and often traverse between the real and surreal world. The author has left us with an open ended story, maybe a sequel is in line. 

 On the flip side, the author uses a dry narrative style of storytelling throughout the novel. The lack of dialogues makes it a very distracting read. For someone used to books, even long winded classic ones, with flowing conversations, this can be a difficult book to attempt and read through. The sentence structure  is awkward, and the overuse of adjectives and adverbs could have been avoided.

I am not sure I could recommend this book to a reader in its current version despite descriptive and detailed analysis of the lives of contemporary women and use of magic realism. A major review of the language usage and a rewrite would do wonders for this book. 

I would give this book a 3/5 rating basically for the debut effort, for attempting a book without the prejudices of the male point of view and for choosing a difficult women's related story.

Personal Disclaimer: This book was recieved for the purpose of review, hence the post in entirety is my basic impression after reading the book. It is not based on intervention by the author, publishing house or the blog review forum.

One Sigh Too Many

 I forgot my IWSG post this month, and I almost forgot this...having been away from my blog for over two weeks. 

 Before I proceed my Friday Guest post at Misha Gericke's  Blog sylmion.blogspot.com - guest post friday-rekha seshadri.html. Do  check it out. My first one. :)

RFW Challenge No 44 for Featured Writer/Runner Up titles . Post Any genre, any POV. Remember the romantic element. 

 My attempt at Prosetry for the prompt.

Wish I had kissed you then
When Chance hovered around, flapping her multi coloured wings. We were no longer just friends, but maintaining the status quo. So afraid of saying the word, so guilty of holding back.  
Now, empty words, emptier dreams, and emptiest memory that I alone drag along.

Wish I had kissed you then
A piece of You forever with me -precious and sacred, my secret visitation.
Nothing more than a Kodak moment,  a rarely visited spot on the shelves littered with books and stuff - your bored eyes proclaim. Is the spot taken by more significant others, old friends relegated to a rusting steel almirah at your parents retirement retreat?

Wish I had kissed you then
 Lost - the charmer, idealistic and innocent to the wolfish ways of the world. 
Found  - the expert rat racer, flipping through your black berry, revealing the unbridgeable chasm that separates us.
 Choosing what you once said never mattered, hollow words.  I see her by your side - tall, slim, vivacious yesterday as she was a decade ago, our proclaimed rose queen - every valentine.
Did you secretly wish to send her those 1001 roses her boyfriend deemed then, his exclusive right?

Wish I had kissed you then
Seeing you hand in hand -  in love? So easy for you with her, impossible for you with me. Was it me who keep you at a distance, or was I just an available backup while you waited for a chance with her?
Wonder if that ex boyfriend nursed hidden wounds in a dim lit pub, as I did in crowded escalators of the latest mall in the Metro.
I could never be her then, do I wish to be her now? Do I dare find unpleasant answers to  these mocking questions swirling all around me?

Wish I had kissed you then
These seven years past seem like seven lifetimes, the gulf between what we were and what you are, plain for unblinkered eyes to see. People change, it's oft said, oh, they do, not quite like you.
The real You before me in all his glory, kept well hidden from our unsuspecting hearts then, a pretender and a master of disguise? The simple, care free boy no longer, this one I'd rather not know.
Your smile is the same, but leaves no tugs on my heart strings, much to my surprise. Is it because I see with fresh insight, the smile of an all knowing flirt?

Wish I had kissed you then
On that watery night, taking refuge from knee high, black, muddy pools. The monsoon and her electric backdrop, sending shivers of a different kind amid much discomfort. 
Wished I had seized a stolen moment, that stolen kiss. 
No meaningless memories,  not wasted years of longing.  
My heart wouldn't have known betrayal. 
What we were - laughed way with tears of regret. 
What we could have been - unsolved mystery no more.
What we are - not evoking one sigh too many.


WC - 495  FCA

A Magical Journey

My  late...late entry for the WHAT IF? Fairytale Madness BlogFest! 
·          Best Love Story

Sadat seemed pleased as he turned to me. His long, delicate fingers created butterflies in the air and as usual in my gut.

"The Sultan, may the merciful one give him long life, has agreed to annul our wedding. But..."

I knew it! The greedy, 'honey with noodles' loving character hadn't changed in all of my 17 years on this dwelling of humanity. 

Sadat, my gazelle eyed beauty, was harping about the other crook in our lives, his father - the vizier. 

"Two marble palaces with walls encrusted in precious stones?"  Did I hear that right? The ethical djinn world was restive as it is with the marked lack of Arab spring out here. 

Sometimes, I wish I hadn't found the lamp. At least, Jasmine was out of Sadat's life. What was she thinking, flirting with my boyfriend in a transparent two piece?...Shaitan forbid, even my djinn has picked up her silly song as his welcome tune. I linked my coarse, browner hand in Sadat’s and sighed...

His face was adorned by an enchanting smile that revealed his pearly whites. Time to wake up the 'A whole new world' guy.  Rubbing the magical lamp never felt so good.

***

"Well, well, well! What have we here?" Imhotep ran his fingers over this shiny, bald pate. The crystal had revealed more than he had hoped for. His naughty 'nephew' was alive and the magic lamp--so near and so far. His eyes took on a glassy look, his pupils dilated and he drew a sharp breath at the sight of the pretty boy seated next to the thief.

'The temple of Anubis would be barren without this jewel.' He rubbed his ring. 
“My Akka, your wish my command." 
“Kublai Khan's Palace,” resonated through the empty chamber.

***
*Shaitan - Satan *Akka - Master 
* Imhotep -  High Priest, Egyptian architect, engineer and physician elevated to demigod, given evil traits in novels and myths.  "A greedy immortal here".

*Kublai Khan - Grandson of Mongol Leader Genghis Khan, created the Yuan Dynasty of China and played host to the Italian traveller Marco Polo.

*

Wc 290
* Got tired of writing hetero romances...