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In this episode Leslie Karst and Lori discuss:

• Letting go of ego in order to follow your dreams.
• The importance of perseverance
• How the writing mindset for memoir is different from that of mystery.

Plus, her #1 tip for writers.

About Leslie Karst

The daughter of a law professor and a potter, Leslie Karst waited tables and sang in a new wave rock band before deciding she was ready for a “real” job and ending up at Stanford Law School. It was during her career as a research and appellate attorney in Santa Cruz, California, that she rediscovered her youthful passion for food and cooking, at which point she once again returned to school—this time to earn a degree in culinary arts. Now retired from the law, Leslie spends her days penning the Sally Solari culinary mystery series, as well as cooking, gardening, cycling, and singing alto in her local community chorus. She and her wife and their Jack Russell mix split their time between Santa Cruz and Hilo, Hawai’i.

You can find her on her website or follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Justice is Served

Leslie was a small-town lawyer who was good at a job she hated and had taken up cooking as a way to spice up the daily grind. Spice is exactly what she got when her offer to cook for Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg and her husband was accepted. Leslie was terrified – she had never thrown a high-stakes dinner before! 

What follows is a lighthearted account of Leslie’s journey following this challenge – including a new unexpected connection with her partner and her parents, an inspiring trip to Paris, mouthwatering recipes, Ginsburg’s transformation from Jewish girl from Flatbush to one of the most celebrated justices in our nation’s history, and the dinner itself. 

A heartfelt story of simultaneously searching for delicious recipes and purpose in life, Justice is Served is an inspiring reminder that it’s never too late to discover—and follow—your deepest passion.

If you decide to check out the book, we hope you’ll do so via this Amazon affiliate link where, if you choose to purchase via the link, DIY MFA gets a referral fee at no cost to you. As always, thank you for supporting DIY MFA!

Link to Episode 457

(Right-click to download.)

If you liked this episode…

Head over to iTunes, Stitcher Radio, Spotify, or Google and subscribe so you’ll be first to know when new episodes are available.

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Until next week, keep writing and keep being awesome!

The post Episode 457: Take the Leap: Chase Your Passion, Quit Your Job, and Write a Memoir – Interview with Leslie Karst appeared first on DIY MFA.

What I questioned was what did the family unit really signify, and how did we connect that to social justice issues, as it relates to my people.

I braided stories of food and traveling with indentured people, immigrants, and migrants with my own stories of my journey to America as an immigrant which was in turn, influenced by my parents’ own journey as refugees out of what’s now Bangladesh during the 1947 Partition of India. 

The reason I did that is because all our stories are intertwined and informed by the traumatic event of the largest man-made human migration in the world in the 20^th century. It influenced what we remembered, what we ate, and how we kept a record—whether it was oral, lore, or passed down the generations as stories so fantastic it could be a myth or real and there was no way of finding out.

But my work has been informed over the years by writing from South Asian authors, be it fiction or nonfiction, primarily because of the way we tell stories. Brought up in the storytelling style of folk katha, or story, there is drama, there is fiction, there is even speculative nonfiction that gives each essay and incident the masala it needs. I used food as the vehicle to showcase what it means to lose everything and how we regain what we think is precious to us.

For years, my writing has been heavily influenced by these books, which highlight family, lyric writing style but also a nod to India lore, myth, and storytelling, be it through activism, social justice rally cries, science, food, or adventure, to create a fleshed-out exploration of what makes for a delicious insight.

Here are five books by South Asian writers that talk about family and belonging:

1. Too Much and Not the Mood by Durga Chew-Bose

The title of this precise book of essays by Chew-Bose in 2017 is from an entry in A Writer’s Diary where Virginia Woolf wondered whether what she wrote or said was anything of value that anyone would want to listen to. 

Chew-Bose explores culture and identity in this group, but what she also does is ask us what it means to be part of a family and what is inherent in this structure. She writes, “A family is more than it shows. That the future’s unspecified terms provide a few recognizable basics, and that I might find, somewhere in me, a tension—the good kind—for tapping into what springs me forward, I reason, the hope.” 

This essay collection explores ways by which we immigrants assert our identity and what remains when one moves to another land in terms of culture. What happens to the family and how we hold together as a unit.

2. Southbound: Essays on Identity, Inheritance and Social Change by Anjali Enjeti

Ambitious in scope, thoughtful, fierce and refreshingly direct, Enjeti’s book and her activism and passion for social justice has influenced my own writing for decades. In particular, the first section on identity informs us of what it means to be of mixed-race growing up in the American south, but also highlights her relationship with her doctor father and how he conducted himself while working under racially charged situations in the southern states. 

A reflection of what we think we understand as children of immigrant parents, and what we eventually do once we grow up, Enjeti’s work shows not only her mastery of the form, but helps us, the reader, understand how complex intergenerational South Asian relationships are. This in turn is an exploration of those relationships as they wax and wane in intensity over the years. 

But it is Enjeti’s activism and how she uses language that shake us into paying attention—a superb manner of waking us up, and asking us to react. In the title essay, she writes, “Like places, we too must take responsibility for our relaxed complacency and intentional obliviousness. We can be targets of racism while also upholding and benefitting from white supremacy.” We South Asians can be racists while we may also be victims of racial attacks.

3. Azadi: Freedom. Fascism. Fiction. by Arundhati Roy

I consider Azadi, or freedom, a battle cry for the India we love. This call, a protest slogan used by Kashmiri activists to protest against what they consider Indian Occupation of their lands, is now a call used in all activist rallies throughout India to protest against Modi’s fascist and inherently Hindu nationalist government. 

This book isn’t a reflection of South Asian family dynamics but more a reflection of what has changed in my country of birth and why it’s imperative for us to keep asking the questions that have made it into an us-versus-them nation filled with zealous nationalists, pro-Hindu violent mobs. 

I still consider this writing about South Asian families, because it is about what’s happening in the country as we speak. In “There is Fire in the Ducts, The System is Failing,” Roy writes, “What we need are people who are prepared to be unpopular. Who are prepared to put themselves in danger. Who are prepared to tell the truth. Brave journalists can do that, and they have…And artists—beautiful, brilliant, brave writers, poets, musicians, painters, and filmmakers can do that. That beauty is on our side. All of it. We have work to do. And a world to win.”

4. In Other Words by Jhumpa Lahiri

While Lahiri’s fiction is what draws most western readers to her lyrical style and masterful storytelling, I’ve always found her deep intense love for Italian and her navigation of that language fascinating. 

An American born of Indian immigrant parents, who moves to Italy to master Italian, writes in that language while challenging herself in asking what changes when one starts to write and then ultimately think in a different language. 

This is a reflection of “otherness” and what it means to be foreign in so many different ways. She writes, “I write in order to break down the wall, to express myself in a pure way. When I write, my appearance, my name have nothing to do with it. I am heard without being seen, without prejudices, without a filter I am invisible. I become my words, and the words become me.”

This isn’t a social justice cause, but truly a reflection of what it means to be othered in America. What happens when you’re brought up knowing English and Bengali and yet, you’re foreign in America and when you go back to India, they speak to you in English because the assumption is why would you know Bengali? The othering happens in multiple ways and regions. 

How Lahiri challenges the expectation of understanding and knowing languages and why, as an immigrant, breaks many walls of preconceived biases, and notions.

5. When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

There really aren’t words to explain what it is one feels reading Kalanithi’s memoir on his lung cancer diagnosis, as a surgeon and physician and his eventual demise. There is loss, and tragedy even before one reads this memoir, but his scientific objectivity even when he’s looking at his own MRI scans, biopsies, and liver enzyme reports tells you we are watching a brilliant scientist who cannot give up on his patient. And that patient is him. 

When Kalanithi’s wife, Lucy gives birth to their daughter, Cady, he writes, “The cancer cells in my body would still be dying or they’d start growing again. Looking out over the expanse ahead, I saw not an empty wasteland but something simpler: a blank page on which I could go on.” 

The idea of death and dying in a family that welcomes a child at the same time highlights exactly what it is that makes us human, and how can we be objective about death at that time.

Madhushree Ghosh is the daughter of refugees, an immigrant, a woman of color in oncology diagnostics, and an activist. Her nonfiction has been published in The New York Times, Washington Post, Longreads, Bomb Magazine, Catapult, Guernica, The Kitchn, Serious Eats, The Rumpus, and others. Her work has been awarded a Notable Mention (Best American Essays in Food Writing), Pushcart-nominated, an Oakley Hall scholarship, and a Sirenland Positano residency (2020-21). Editorial roles have been in gastronomy (Panorama Journal) and international fiction (Del Sol Review). She actively mentors women leaders in science and hosts food and discourse events at her home in San Diego. Madhushree has a Ph.D. in biochemistry and a postdoctoral fellowship in molecular biology from Johns Hopkins University. She is also certified in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion from Cornell University as well as in Conflict Management and Global Negotiations from Thunderbird University, AZ. You can find her on her website and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

The post #5onFri: Five Books by South Asian Writers on Family and Belonging appeared first on DIY MFA.

Confronting the Past

My story begins with the sudden death of my brother, Lawrence. He was twenty-three at the time; I was fourteen. He had been my True North and all at once I was catapulted into the world without a compass. Shortly after his accident, I became a Christian and found hope and a path forward. 

A few years later, I graduated high school, moved away from home, and began taking a path of my own. I believed in Jesus, but following Him was a different matter. So off I went, doing my own thing. 

For years. I never lost faith. I believed. I just wanted to do faith my way. And I tried, and failed, time and again.

As I wrote, my memoir began to evolve into the story of my journey back to faith. I stumbled upon dark, painful memories that I had a hard time facing. I’d tell my writing coach that I dread writing this next chapter. I’d procrastinate, take naps, read—anything to avoid writing down the awful things I’d done. 

As I began to remember, I fell into shame. How on earth could I face my past, much less share it with the world?

I’d pray, and finally, type something into a blank Word document. Why am I doing this? Because I must. Still, shame persisted.

The Grip of Shame

I thought I knew a lot about shame. I’d been following Brené Brown’s shame research for several years. I’d read her book, Daring Greatly. I’d even taken her COURAGEworks class, where I spent weeks learning about shame. Brown defines it this way:

“Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging. It derives its power from being unspeakable. If we cultivate enough awareness about shame to name it and speak to it, we’ve basically cut it off at the knees. . . . Language and story bring light to shame and destroy it.” (Brown, Brené, Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead.) 

So I began to push through those painful memories, one sentence, one paragraph, one chapter, at a time. 

I would finish an especially difficult passage and take a few days off. 

A week later, I might stumble on another unpleasant memory and think, “I can’t write this. It’s too embarrassing. What will people think?” Then I’d remind myself that I’d survived the last terrible thing I’d written about. I was still here, sitting in my chair, slowly chipping away at my manuscript. I’d survived.

That’s when something began to change. Not only with my writing, but with me. First, I realized I’d been walking around with baggage I didn’t even know I had. Secondly, I began to see my shame for what it was: something that was keeping me small and afraid. Opening the doors of my memory released that shame and brought it to light, where it could no longer survive. In the process of discovery, shame lost its grip on me. 

The Power of Story

For many years I have been a fan of author and theologian Frederick Buechner. I’d heard him interviewed once about writing his memoir, Telling Secrets, the account of his father’s suicide—and it’s fallout— when Buechner was twelve. 

Quoting a meditation from his novel, The Final Beast, Buechner says, “I walked back through my memory, as though it was a long hall. I asked God to open all the closed doors, and bless whatever he found inside.” 

I’m a visual writer and I was captivated by that imagery. So I did the same.

Each day as I would sit down to write, I would close my eyes and ask God to walk with me down the halls of my memory, open each closed door, and bless whatever was waiting there. When I began asking God to enter with me into my shame, that’s when it not only began to be exposed, but destroyed.

The Gift of Time

What I’d find behind those doors wasn’t always heart-rending. To my surprise, I’d often discover a beautiful memory I’d completely forgotten. A hug from my mother. A moment of childhood bliss. 

This process became the path to my healing; these forgotten memories became gifts. 

“The sad things that happened long ago will always remain part of who we are,” said Buechner, “ … but instead of being a burden of guilt, recrimination, and regret … the saddest things can become … a source of wisdom and strength for the journey that still lies ahead.”

Madeleine L’Engle once said, “I am still all the ages I’ve ever been.” I believe that’s true. All my actions, and their associated memories, are part of me. 

But they are not me. The older, wiser woman who wrote Untethered is not the carefree—and willful—young woman I spent two years writing about. And there is comfort in that. 

We can certainly learn from our past. Writing about mine set me free. 

Tell us in the comments: How have you dealt with difficult emotions, like shame or fear, in your writing?

Laura grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina, the daughter of a journalist and a teacher. She has been an advertising copywriter, newspaper columnist, staff writer for an international relief agency, travel writer, blogger, teacher, communications director for several nonprofits, and personal assistant to a New York Times bestselling author. Laura is passionate about her faith, books, travel, nature (especially the beach), social justice, and her family. 

Her memoir, Untethered: Faith, Failure and Finding Solid Ground publishes on April 5, 2022.

You can find her on her website or follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

The post Facing Shame: Healing through Writing a Memoir appeared first on DIY MFA.

In this episode Helen and I discuss:

• How blogging and memoir classes got her the feedback she needed to develop her manuscript.
• What is healing about writing a memoir and how it can help you cope with confusing, painful, and difficult personal experiences.
• Why she didn’t always use pseudonyms for her characters.

Plus, her #1 tip for writers.

About the Author

Helen Zuman is the author of MATING IN CAPTIVITY (She Writes Press 2018), a memoir of her five years, post-Harvard, at Zendik Farm, a neo-hippie cult with a radical take on sex and relationships. MATING IN CAPTIVITY received a starred review from Kirkus, was named a Kirkus Best Indie Memoir of 2018, and was a finalist in Creative Nonfiction for the Community of Literary Magazines and Presses’ 2019 Firecracker Award. Born in London and raised in Brooklyn, she currently homesteads with her husband on a steeply sloped quarter acre in Beacon, New York.

You can learn more about Helen by visiting her on Twitter and Reddit.

Mating in Captivity: A Memoir 

When recent Harvard grad Helen Zuman moved to Zendik Farm in 1999, she was thrilled to discover that the Zendiks used go-betweens to arrange sexual assignations, or “dates,” in cozy shacks just big enough for a double bed and a nightstand. Here, it seemed, she could learn an honest version of the mating dance—and form a union free of “Deathculture” lies. No one spoke the truth: Arol, the Farm’s matriarch, crushed any love that threatened her hold on her followers’ hearts. An intimate look at a transformative cult journey, MATING IN CAPTIVITY shows how stories can trap us and free us, how miracles rise out of crisis, how coercion feeds on forsaken self-trust.

If you decide to check out the book, we hope you’ll do so via this Amazon affiliate link, where if you choose to purchase via the link DIY MFA gets a referral fee at no cost to you. As always, thank you for supporting DIY MFA!

Link to Episode 323

(Right-click to download.)

If you liked this episode…

Head over to iTunes, Stitcher Radio or Google Play and subscribe so you’ll be first to know when new episodes are available.

Also, remember that sharing is caring so if you know anyone who might enjoy this podcast, please tell them about it or leave us a review so other listeners will want to check it out.

Until next week, keep writing and keep being awesome!

The post Episode 323: The Importance of Composting in the Writing Process – Interview with Helen Zuman appeared first on DIY MFA.