100 Books Like The Private Life of Mrs Sharma

I am an Indian-American writer who moved to the U.S. for graduate school over thirty years ago. Growing up in a conservative Indian family, I witnessed women bound by unspoken rules, for example, expectations of modesty enforced not by law but by societal norms. And, of course, I encountered daily indignities, euphemistically referred to as “eve-teasing.” Only in adulthood, as my world expanded beyond those confines, did I begin to question and resent them. While I live in the U.S., where women’s circumstances are better, though not perfect, I remain deeply interested in how life for Indian women has changed and avidly seek out books set in India.

I am an Indian-American writer who moved to the U.S. for graduate school over thirty years ago. Growing up in a conservative Indian family, I witnessed women bound by unspoken rules, for example, expectations of modesty enforced not by law but by societal norms. And, of course, I encountered daily indignities, euphemistically referred to as “eve-teasing.” Only in adulthood, as my world expanded beyond those confines, did I begin to question and resent them. While I live in the U.S., where women’s circumstances are better, though not perfect, I remain deeply interested in how life for Indian women has changed and avidly seek out books set in India.

I am an Indian-American writer who moved to the U.S. for graduate school over thirty years ago. Growing up in a conservative Indian family, I witnessed women bound by unspoken rules, for example, expectations of modesty enforced not by law but by societal norms. And, of course, I encountered daily indignities, euphemistically referred to as “eve-teasing.” Only in adulthood, as my world expanded beyond those confines, did I begin to question and resent them. While I live in the U.S., where women’s circumstances are better, though not perfect, I remain deeply interested in how life for Indian women has changed and avidly seek out books set in India.

I am an Indian-American writer who moved to the U.S. for graduate school over thirty years ago. Growing up in a conservative Indian family, I witnessed women bound by unspoken rules, for example, expectations of modesty enforced not by law but by societal norms. And, of course, I encountered daily indignities, euphemistically referred to as “eve-teasing.” Only in adulthood, as my world expanded beyond those confines, did I begin to question and resent them. While I live in the U.S., where women’s circumstances are better, though not perfect, I remain deeply interested in how life for Indian women has changed and avidly seek out books set in India.

About thirty years ago, I spent three months on an Indo-American Fellowship in Varanasi taking notes on daily life in this holy city where my novel Sister India is set. That winter felt like a separate life within my life, a bonus. Because all there was so new to me, and it was unmediated by cars, television, or computers, I felt while I was there so much more in touch with the physical world, what in any given moment I could see, hear, smell…. It was the way I had felt as a child, knowing close-up particular trees and shrubs, the pattern of cracks in a sidewalk.

I love reading history that is told in an experimental, interesting manner – history merged with travel, fiction, magical realism, etc. I began my writing career as a travel writer, bringing together history with travel but increasingly I have begun to experiment more. My book Walking with Nanak brings together 4 genres. One intellectual question that I have pursued through my writing is challenging modern notions of national, religious, and ethnic identities. I see my writing style as an extension of that pursuit, breaking away from the neat compartmentalization of genres. 

I am the granddaughter of an American boy who grew up in India at the end of the British Raj. I have a personal interest in the time period because of this, but I wanted to see more books about the Raj that weren’t from the British perspective. I wrote my own novel from the unique angle of Americans in India. During my historical research, I specifically looked for books that represented Indian opinions and mindsets of that period. As the saying goes, history is written by the victors, but with this reading list, I want to help shed light on the other side of the story.

I’ve been writing about science and the environment for over 20 years, but always I find myself gravitating to the non-sciency, non-naturey part of stories. My favorite part of my first book, on the American chestnut, was about how people in Appalachia loved and relied on this tree that was largely killed off in the early twentieth century. For Plastic: A Toxic Love Story, I was as fascinated by the cultural and psychological effects of plastic as its environmental and health impacts. One of the things I’ve learned is that some of the most powerful things shaping our lives – for better or worse – are ones we don’t notice or see. 

I’m a novelist and game designer from Bangalore. I’ve been a lifelong reader of science fiction and fantasy. Growing up, I almost never encountered futures that included people like me—brown women, from a country that isn’t the UK/ US, and yet, who are in sync with the rapidly changing global village we belong to. Over the last decade, though, I've found increasing joy in more recent science fiction, in which the future belongs to everyone. The Ten Percent Thief is an expression of my experiences living in dynamic urban India, and represents one of our many possible futures. 

As a child of a worker in the boot and shoe industry of the English Midlands, I have written for more than half a century about poverty in its many guises – from the want and misery of early industrialism in Britain to the modernised poverty of a form of affluence which mimics prosperity without providing either satisfaction or sufficiency. Writing about the landscapes of poverty in the 1980s, I went to India and Bangladesh, and saw there in patterns of urbanization familiar echoes of what we in Britain had experienced. It seems to me that poor people are always poor in the same way, although this may be hidden behind differences in culture, tradition, ethnicity, and faith.