Every novel has a backstory arising from the author’s experience, imagination and research. Because there are several plot threads in Temple Dancer, there are at least three backstories. In this 3-part series, I'll review the backstory that led to the emergence of Saraswati as a character in an Indian village in 1938. Goddess Yellamma Reaching Out On the day I stood in C. S. Lakshmi’s office in Mumbai, looking at a calendar created by “Reaching Out,” a group of Indian feminists, my eyes locked on the eyes of a little girl who gazed into the camera. Rohini stood holding her mother’s hand. She was six. She had knotted hair. Her mother said that she was going to [...]
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So far Liz has created 4 blog entries.
Dears Ones, do you know how hard it is to release your first published novel (Temple Dancer, September 8th!), especially in a pandemic? These days, I’m immersed in the hard part—promotion. What keeps my head above water is that I feel I’m fulfilling a promise I made 26 years ago. After a second sojourn in India, I received a gift from an eight-year-old girl, born in India in 1930—Saraswati’s voice. Saraswati became a temple dancer (devadasi), auspicious and then later disgraced. When I learned about the decimation of the devadasi culture, I knew I was given her story for a reason—it was meant to be shared. Birthing a Book It has taken me twenty-five years. Those years included writing books [...]
This unfamiliar pause in our ordinary lives has been a time of loss and also a time of birth--my daughter gave birth to a son, Shalom Raphael, three weeks ago, and I am about to deliver my first novel, Temple Dancer. I'll be live on Facebook for a reading and brief talk. I hope you'll join me here tomorrow, May 21 at 4pm PT, 7ET. Temple Dancer is now available for pre-order and will be officially released on September 8. Here is s bit about my journey... Before my first visit to Kripalu in 1989, I was a fiction writer suffering from depression. I wrote from a dark place of angst and from my deep curiosity about the “why” questions—the [...]
Thirty-five years ago, I was drawn to the line of sea and sky. It seemed an intimate call to oblivion masked as eternity. Now, although my eyes still dwell on the horizon, it's a demarcation, not an invitation. The great wanting windy mama I was called to join in my darkest days has joined me.