Happy New Year 2018, All. As I take a short break from work, today, and rethink my place in the world, I realize how blessed I am to have what I have: my children, my friends, my readers (some of whom have become my friends). A New Year sale is on at this site, with prices of directly downloaded books slashed.

Also, appreciation to the creative minds from Akshara Theatre, New Delhi, who of their own initiative approached me for permission to turn my novel into a play, and staged it dozens of times in New Delhi and recently in Mumbai.

Good wishes, also, to the people in a small European country who published a translation of my novel and didn’t pay me royalties. Though I felt angry and cheated at one point, I’d like to say, now: It’s okay. What’s money, anyway? At least you managed to pass my thoughts on to a few new readers, in their language.

I also wish and thank my editorial clients, for keeping me alive, and sometimes for also becoming my friends.

And all who have loved me, who brought sunshine into my life, and revitalized me with transfusions of fresh blood and hope and laughter.

And the opportunity to write as much as I have, much of it incomplete or unpublished (possibly 10,000 pages), but continuing my commitment to the word and free and heartfelt expression.

Even though my sales make me feel it’s the Year Zero, I know enough literary history to know that sales are no guide to a book’s true worth. I write to make me happy, to fulfill the mission I was born to fulfill.  I’m happy to have the opportunity to face the challenge of a new year, and thankful for what I have.