I have two accents. One Indian. One American (thanks, bullies). And they take turns depending on who I’m talking to or how tired I am. I’ve spent a really long time straddling the line between my two cultures, trying to make sense of both.
I’ve always had an overactive imagination and a mild allergy to reality. As a kid, I filled the margins of my grandmother’s recipe books with stories inspired by the nightmare-inducing X-Files episodes my mom loved. That’s where I learned how powerful stories can be, how they can pull you out of reality and drop you right into another world. It’s also where I picked up my pop-culture addiction and my totally rational fear of bugs.
Fun fact about me is that I can’t do basic math to save my life, but I can recite TV quotes like scripture. I love learning about things that are fascinating, irrelevant, and completely useless. Which, ironically, makes them perfect for writing.
Just os happens that writing is how I make sense of everything. It’s where my two worlds, odd interests, and restless imagination meet and somehow, they always find a way to get along (for the most part).