Ours was an arranged marriage, so he didn’t know I was a writer (or an aspiring one at the least), he had no idea that I had self-published a few e-books (at the time I’d published Chasing Pavements and PoisonBlood, Book 1: Revelation and PoisonBlood, Book 2: Absolution). And I didn’t know how to tell him. Since so few people in my life (and the whole world in general) knew Neha Yazmin, the indie author, it was extremely difficult bringing the topic up in everyday conversation with a man who I was just getting to know.
Deep down, I didn’t want to tell him. Not yet. Not until I had a bit more recognition for my work. Yet, I still wanted him to know about the books, read them, be a part of that piece of my life that was still secret from him. So I encouraged him to read Chasing Pavements. “I don’t have the time,” he replied. He wasn’t joking. I didn’t have much of that either. Between my full-time job, spending time with my mum in hospital following her brain surgery and partial paralysis (see previous posts When Life Becomes Stranger ThanFiction - An author’s story, Part I & II for more detail), my responsibilities to my family and new in-laws, my husband and I hardly had time for each other, for our new life together, let alone to huddle around my Kindle.
Since we didn’t have any time together during the day, we stayed up late every night, talked and laughed into the early hours of the morning, even though I had to get up at 7am to get ready for work each day. The late nights worsened the effects of the stresses of work, hospital visits, getting home late and trying to please every single member of my new family, but I was determined to make time for my life partner, so we could get to know each other, make a connection. Time didn’t exist for me anymore. Every second of the day I was doing something, very little for myself, but I was super-busy everyday and sleeping at night seemed to be wasting the only time I could give my new husband.
It was during one of our late night talks that I found myself telling him about how Mukti and Jamie met and before I knew it, I was telling their story. He seemed genuinely intrigued, and soon, engrossed by the tale of the two soulmates. When I got really sleepy and insisted we call it a night, he made me promise to continue the story the next night. I thought he was joking. I promised I would pick up from where I left off nonetheless.
What ensued was our very own, very short, version of Arabian Nights - each night, I would run through a few chapters of the book. This one time we were on the sofa in the living and he said, “Let’s go to bed, I want to know what happens after X event in the book.” He didn’t know I’d written it and so I knew his interest wasn't fake. What surprised me was how much he cared about the characters, Mukti in particular, feeling both sympathy and empathy for the tragic heroine. He visited the Needle In Tension (the iconic sculpture referenced throughout the book) and took pictures with it. I took him to Arnold Circus (a park featured in the book) and he muttered, “The author must have lived around here.” A part of me thought he had figured out that I was the writer but didn’t want to say it because I hadn’t admitted it yet. Another part of me wondered whether he was that slow.
This post continues here.
Thank you for reading this post. If you're interested in my debut novel, click the image below to learn more about it:
Like all my other books, it's also available on:
iBooks | B&N Nook | Kobo | Smashwords
And the first two books in my urban fantasy/paranormal romance series, the Poison Blood series, can be downloaded for free via:
Amazon US| Amazon UK| iBooks US & UK | B&N Nook Store | Smashwords