I’m still a bit dumbfounded as I write to share this news:

I have been selected to attend the McCormack Writing Center’s Speculative Online Workshop this fall!

If you have not heard of the McCormack Writing Center (fka Tin House Workshop), let me explain why this opportunity is so momentous. The Tin House Workshop was founded in 2003 in Portland to “create a space that matched the rigor of more established East Coast workshops with a West Coast spirit that was more relaxed, non-hierarchical, and open to less-established writers.” Over the ensuing years, it earned such a reputation that, in the words of agent Danielle Bukowski:

Many people apply to this workshop multiple times before they get in, and so I have to be honest, this news feels unreal to me. I do not have an MFA, and I do not have a single byline to my name. The one bestselling book I contributed to is nonfiction, and is a completely different beast from the one I’m writing now. By every measure the literary world recognizes, I should have been a non-starter.

And yet… and yet.

This opportunity says otherwise. Every application was judged on the strength of the first 4,000 words. Which means, out of over 500 applicants, I was one of fifty chosen to attend, and one of ten invited to join the workshop led by Chana Porter, the award-winning author of The Seep and The Thick and The Lean. Over several weeks this fall I will be in craft lectures, writing / revising sessions, and I will workshop mine and my cohort’s pieces with writers working at the highest level of speculative fiction. I will also sit down one-on-one with a literary agent, something I cannot fathom (and which also adds a not-insignificant amount of pressure and prep prior to the start of the workshop!).

Four years ago I set an enormous, occasionally ridiculous-sounding goal — to write not just one Masala Romantasy novel, but a trilogy. This opportunity is the first external evidence that I am not deluded — and that I’m not a hack without talent. This acceptance means that I have real writing chops undergirding my gigantic ambition, and I do not intend to waste the opportunity. I am determined to make the most of every lecture, every question, every feedback note, and to be a credit to the McCormack Writing Center name — and to myself.

So what does this mean for you, Dear Reader?

So many of you supported me when I did my fundraiser for my book those years ago. Your faith in me is not misplaced. With this opportunity, I am one step closer to putting a finished book in your hands. I want you to feel my characters and their journey so deeply that when you finish reading this book, you’ll want to flip back to the beginning and read it again. To do that, my workshop cohort will help me uncover honest, specific feedback about my characters’ arcs and plot that I cannot suss out alone. I will incorporate those notes into my revisions to make The Navagraha Chronicles an even more compelling story.

I promise to send dispatches from the workshop; the more immediate behind-the-scenes will be on Instagram, but I will share another missive when it’s done.

What I’m reading now:

HEIR by Sabaa Tahir

What I read and recommend:

SPARK OF THE EVERFLAME by Penn Cole
THE THICK AND THE LEAN by Chana Porter

Next on my TBR list:

THE SEEP by Chana Porter
GLOW OF THE EVERFLAME by Penn Cole

SUBSCRIBE to Future Bestselling Author,
my podcast newsletter and don’t miss out when it launches this fall!

Welcome back to Masala Monday, where I share something related to South Asian culture with you. Today I’m delighted to share my Masala Romance review of A KISS OF CRIMSON ASH by Anuja Varghese.

“What is Masala Romance?” you ask? Well, I’m glad you asked! Have a read:

And now, onto the review:

In the words of the author, this is a marriage between Dungeons & Dragons and Bollywood fantasy. Set in the medieval-Indian-inspired Samjayan empire, A Kiss of Crimson Ash follows four strangers pulled into one another's orbits: Taara, the pious young queen of Abhaya, newly crowned and bound to a marriage of political convenience; Garjan, the prince of neighboring Nandapore, betrothed to Taara but in love with someone he can't have; Bhediya, the city's most sought-after courtesan, with a dangerous magic running in her blood; and Roland, a foreign thief attached to nothing and no one until he stumbles onto a plot to unearth a weapon that was supposed to exist only in myth. As a power-hungry king maneuvers to claim that weapon for himself, an ancient goddess calls these four together, sending them through brothels, temples, taverns, and palaces to lay a trap for the empire's most powerful men. Threaded through the political intrigue and the heat are sharper questions about duty, desire, and who gets to wield power, in a world that is grounded in Indian culture.

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤🟤 Jeera — Four leads in a world inspired by 14th century Vijayanagara empire. Setting and culture is foundational to character, conflict, and magic. Roland, the “token white guy,” is the lone outsider — the “one and only,” for once, throwing into strong relief how thoroughly South Asian everything around him is.

• 🟢🟢🟢🟢 Cardamom — Family is the engine of the plot: a princess duty-bound to produce an heir, a marriage of political convenience, and a prince bound in duty to his power-hungry brother. These family duties are central to the tension and are deeply, characteristically South Asian, where obligation to the family hierarchy outranks personal want.

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠🟠 Haldi — Medieval Indian epics, myth, and an ancient goddess are foundational to the worldbuilding and the magic system. The author treats misogyny, power, and queerness as lived experiences — researched and woven through.

• 🌶🌶🌶🌶 Chili — Explicit/high heat, and it shows up early (sex inside the first 10%). Courtesan-and-brothel setting, queer and straight — truly a “masala dabba” with spices of every variety.

• 💛💛💛💛💛 Saffron — Forbidden love (twice over), marriage of convenience, chosen-ones-summoned-by-a-goddess, found family, forbidden magic, sapphic awakening. A trope to satisfy every Romantasy reader.

Blend: 🔥 Garam Masala — hot, bold, culturally foundational, zero apologies for the spice.

For readers who want: an unapologetically Indian adventure that balances political intrigue with the spice, with casually woven queerness and a real perspective on men and power.

From SHY GIRL to the Commonwealth Short Fiction Prize to the NYT article equating Fabio with Claude (talk about fallacious and clickbait-y), it seems every day brings a new AI scandal in the book world. And while some “authors” (I use that term loosely here) have admitted to an over-reliance on Gen AI, the daily accusations have taken on the eerie pallor of the Salem Witch Trials. Anyone with half a brain can understand that purported detection tools are incredibly flawed because they themselves plagiarized the same works that form the basis of LLMs. For example, Pangram has flagged Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as generated by AI because, guess what?? They’ve all been trained on the same classics in the public domain!

And yet this glaring loophole with “AI detection software” has not stemmed the tide of folks throwing around accusations in the hope of increasing their own social media follower count. Non-authors especially have made a bloodsport of accusing debut writers of using Gen AI, destroying their future careers. Creativity needs freedom to flourish, people! The muse is “skittish like doe;” it’s hard enough to get one’s butt in the chair every day and gently coax her to appear. She absolutely refuses to emerge from her hiding spot when faced with the fear of reputational damage.

To protect themselves, several authors have taken to screen-recording when they work, or even to inviting folks to watch them work on a zoom. Good for them! I’m glad they feel comfortable exposing their creative process to the elements. However, despite my many years on stage, my experience has not transferred to my muse (let’s call her Jain) — she has a terrible case of near-constant stage fright — so neither of these options are good for me. Therefore, I am taking a page out of Soman Chainani’s substack, “Diary of a Novel,” and adding more behind-the-scenes to my missives.

In the wake of the SHY GIRL scandal, Gotham Ghostwriters has developed “AI Guidelines for Ghostwriting,” who’s goal is to “Provide clear guidance for professional writers as we adapt to and navigate the challenges created by AI and large language models (LLMs).”

Now, to be clear, I am NOT ghostwriting my book. I will proudly display my name on the cover of my book as the author of the whole novel. I will thank my early readers in the Acknowledgements (possibly even you, dear Subscriber!), whose feedback is invaluable to shaping the final story.

Part of Gotham Ghostwriters’ guidance recommends a writer “disclose the nature of their AI use.” They go on to list three areas of disclosure:

1. Utilitarian and Administrative Uses

2. Research, Analysis, and Collaboration — including “Performing AI-augmented web search,” which is the topic of this missive.

3. Generative Uses.

I’ve decided to follow their guidance and be transparent about how I use AI in my writing process.

NOTE: I said I use “AI.” I did NOT say I use “generative AI.” Read on to understand the difference.

With the advent of generative AI and its insidious pervasiveness throughout every digital tool, it is almost impossible to avoid AI entirely. The “five dudes” who run the world have made deals amongst themselves to implement it everywhere, so unless you are truly off the grid, you have used AI, often without even realizing it.

Share

As a writer of Masala Romantasy, I am creating characters, plots, and worlds that live in speculative fiction, and certainly beyond my own lived experience. And my internet search history correlates with the WILD depth and breadth of my brainstorming. If you are also a writer, you’re probably nodding as you read this. Every writer’s internet search history can be used against them in a court of law. From “how long does it take for a bunny to drown” to “what drugs can cause hallucinations of XXX type,” if you’ve ever had a terrible thought, however fleeting, guaranteed a writer has googled and used some form of the results in their writing.

And again, because Google is run by one of those five dudes, they are shoving AI down our throats have incorporated AI into their general search engine, called Gemini. So even though I have turned it off from my G-suite (docs, where I write, and gmail) it still returns my first results when I use the Google search engine.

For now, I’m okay with this. Gemini as the Google search engine is not generative AI. Instead, it is “a multimodal AI tool, which is focused on understanding and processing different types of information. Its goal is to comprehend and reason across various data types (modalities) like text, audio, video, images, and sensor data.” In other words, it takes the information from across the most popular results of your query and amalgamates it into a cohesive response, complete with citations.

While we were visiting Japan, we took a Samurai training class and I learned about female samurai. Their preferred weapon was a defensive polearm called a naginata — something I now recall seeing in the TV series “Shogun.” I did not wield a naginata during my Samurai training class nor have I ever seen one in real life (something I will remedy on my next visit to The Metropolitan Museum of Art). I was so inspired by the tales of these women that I changed the weapon my female main character (FMC) wields in my opening scene to the naginata. (It also works as an allegory for my character — in the beginning she’s defensive and keeps everyone at a distance. When she has to change to let people in, her arsenal will become augmented).

So, given I have absolutely no experience with this weapon, or fighting with any weapons in general, I needed help to understand how a naginata is used and, for my specific scene, how my FMC would fare against an opponent wielding a battleaxe. This is my exact search (notice I spelled naginata incorrectly) and the results:

Notice Gemini asks me if I want help “Describing specific, dynamic choreography" for this duel.” It’s a good next step but my “Spidey Sense” went off and I didn’t want to be fed potential generative AI lines. Instead, I started a new search:

Okay, great, so now I had some ideas of how a naginata and battleaxe could strike, counterstrike, and deflect blows. However, these descriptions alone are not enough to paint the picture I need to write realistic(-sh) action scenes. So I went down the rabbit hole with the citations, including some YouTube videos to understand terms like “passing step” or “stepping offline.” Movement is much easier to understand in (moving) pictures rather than in words.

In the end, I did not write with this much detail because it would have bored my readers to tears and taken them out of the story. But it did give me enough information to feel this a bit in my body so I can conjure all sorts of scenarios that demonstrate my character’s interiority — what they want, what their plan is to get it, and how they deal with the obstacles. I will probably write a few more scenes with the same weapons, and I’ll need to do similar research for the many other weapons that my FMC and other characters will wield. But for now, that two hours of online digital research led to this golden passage in my book:

Yup, dear readers. THAT was what I wrote after reading and further researching Google Gemini’s results and citations on my query. This is why it takes SO LONG to write a good book!

I’d love to hear what you think about my process. And if you’re a creative, how are you using AI in your process?

Welcome back to a belated edition of Masala Monday, where I share something related to South Asian culture with you. I’m a day late because today is release day of The Tapestry of Fate by Shannon Chakraborty, and I am thrilled to share my Masala Romance review.

“What is Masala Romance?” you ask? Well, I’m glad you asked! Have a read:

And now, onto the review:

The Tapestry of Fate is the sequel to The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, a historical fantasy adventure series set in a magical reimagining of the medieval Indian Ocean — a sprawling trade world where South Asia, the Arabian peninsula, and East Africa played thalassic telephone (often via spices, and also literally via mythology that encompassed multiple iterations as it spread across geographies).

Note: If you haven’t read The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi yet, do that first — while the sequel does work as a standalone, you’ll get more out of the crew dynamics with book one under your belt.

The Tapestry of Fate stretches the definition of a Masala Romance: while South Asian threads are “woven” throughout the story (see what I did there?), the dominant cultural elements are Islamic and Arabian. So if you came expecting some superficial Kama-Sutra-coded romantasy, please stop here (and never return). If you came for a badass pirate-mom-captain solving impossible problems on the high seas while navigating an ambivalent marriage to a discord spirit named Raksh (whose name comes straight out of Sanskrit rakshasa via Persian), then come sit next to me for a spell.

• 🟤🟤🟤 Pan-Indian Ocean cast; Amina herself reads Arab/Muslim, but peris, Raksh, and a wider rogues’ gallery keep South Asia firmly woven into the story (haha!)

• 🟢🟢🟢🟢 Motherhood is the engine of this book — Amina’s bond with her daughter Marjana drives every decision she makes, and her crew functions as deeply textured found family

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠 Chakraborty did the homework, as she always does. The mythology, geography, and trade-world details are deeply researched, and weighted more toward Islamic and Middle Eastern traditions than specifically South Asian ones

• 🌶 Glimpses and longing rather than scenes — This is firmly fantasy-adventure with a complicated marriage humming in the background, not romantasy

• 💛💛💛 Reluctant marriage to a chaos demon, found family, woman-on-an-impossible-quest, mysterious sorceress antagonist

Blend: ☕ Chai Masala — The idea of a tapestry invites curling up on the couch with a warm cup of chai, only to be startled by the complex masala (storytelling) on the tongue. This is the kind of multi-layered storytelling you sink into for a weekend. Best for readers who want an adventurous heroine, deftly woven mythology, and an emphasis on family.

BOTTOM LINE: READ THIS BOOK IMMEDIATELY.

I absolutely adore Amina al-Sirafi! This story was so well set up and the ending deliciously satisfying. And the very ending absolutely stopped my heart… I’m already dying for the next book! Well done Shannon!

The Tapestry of Fate is out now. Order it here.

Welcome back to Masala Monday, where I share something related to South Asian culture with you. Today I’m delighted to share my Masala Romance review of The River She Became by Emily Varga.

“What is Masala Romance?” you ask? Well, I’m glad you asked! Have a read:

And now, onto the review:

A scholar by day, a relic-thief by night, a conquered kingdom hemorrhaging magic into the soil, and a cold-eyed fae captain on the other side of the river. Emily Varga’s Pakistani-inspired romantasy duology opener is The Mummy meets The Cruel Prince with a side of anti-colonial rebellion — and, crucially, a heroine who gets to be smart on the page. (Reader, do you know how rare that is?)

So how does it rate on the Masala Dabba?

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤 Jeera (South Asian Centrality): Yaseema is our solo SA protagonist — scholar, thief, rebel — and she carries the book. The fae love interest isn’t explicitly south-Asian-coded, but Yasmeena is brown enough for both 😜
  

• 🟢🟢🟢 Cardamom (Family Relationships): No meddling-parent-matchmaking chaos here, but both protagonists are moving entirely because of what they owe their people. Motivation by inheritance.
  

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠 Haldi (Cultural Authenticity): Pakistani mythology–inspired worldbuilding where colonial erasure of magic and relics is the plot — not aesthetic dressing on top.
  

• 🌶🌶 Chili Peppers (Physical Intimacy): YA, closed door. Yearning, charged silences, restraint as a love language. No on-page steam — but the tension is hottttt 🥵.
  

• 💛💛💛💛 Saffron (Romance Tropes): Enemies-to-allies-to-lovers, forced proximity, dual POV, hidden identities, forbidden love across colonial lines, quest romance, scholar FMC with mysterious magic (chosen-one adjacent). Gimme gimmee!!!

Blend: 🍋 Chaat Masala.
Tart and flavorful — rich cultural and political stakes, layered tropes, low heat. For YA readers, the anti-colonial-fantasy heads, and anyone who wants a smart romantasy that engages your hearts and minds.

Would I hand this to my daughter? Absolutely (well, in a couple of years — she’s only 11). And I’ll definitely recommend this to YOU, dear reader, and all my friends who like their romance reads to actually have plot and story.

Welcome back to Masala Monday, where I share something related to South Asian culture with you. Today I’m delighted to share my Masala Romance review of Dance of the Asuras by N Patel Baxi.

“What is Masala Romance?” you ask? Well, I’m glad you asked! Have a read:

And now, onto the review:

Niya is Khoya’s most celebrated dancer. Bound by contract, she’s counting down to the freedom she’s bled and bargained for. One last performance, and she gets safe passage to a life she chooses. Then Zehan, Prince of Hell, makes her through her veil, claims her as his Chosen, and hauls her into the realm of demons, where they strike a new bargain for her freedom.

Running it through the Masala Romance dabba:

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤🟤 Jeera (South Asian Centrality): Dual South Asian leads in a wholly South Asian-inspired world. Niya, Zehan, the ensemble, the moral framework itself. Zero tokenism.
  

• 🟢🟢 Cardamom (Family Relationships): Family lives mostly off-page. Though Niya has been severed from her origins, her found-family carries the weight. If you’ve come for meddling Illumin-Aunties, ask the aunties in your life to read Dance of the Asuras and discuss it with you. (Hai Ram!)
  

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠🟠 Haldi (Cultural Authenticity): Culture is embedded into this story from the foundation up: Asuras, Devas, anti-gods with their own internal logic, a cosmology where “Hell” operates on Dharmic terms (which matters enormously when your love interest is its prince). The dance hearkens back to classical Bollywood. Dance of the Asuras is culturally responsible in the way I keep begging the genre to be.
  

• 🌶🌶🌶 Chili (Physical Intimacy): Open Door slow burn, with a He-Falls-First MMC doing plenty of the restraint labor. The tension earns its payoff. (Willing to recalibrate up to 🌶🌶🌶🌶 on a reread.)
  

• 💛💛💛💛💛 Saffron (Romance Tropes): Forced proximity, morally grey MMC, captor-captive leaning toward enemies-to-lovers, hidden powers / chosen one, forbidden love (human × demon prince), he-falls-first, slow burn, prophecy. Yes please!

Blend: 🍋 Chaat Masala. Tart, complex, balanced. Culturally-rich worldbuilding, a slow burn that actually burns, and an FMC whose mouth gets her into all sorts of trouble (relatable).

Pick this up for your weekend read and a copy for your bestie. Believe me, you’ll need to talk about it with someone after!

It’s been two weeks since my family and I made the pilgrimage to Naoshima Island in Japan to experience site-specific artworks and Tadao Ando’s architecture, and I’m still processing this immersive, full-body experience.

Heretofore my only Ando building was Wrightwood 659, an extraordinary space in Chicago, where I was honored to be the inaugural executive director and oversaw its opening in 2018. Ando worked within the existing envelope of a four-story 1930s apartment building, completely gutting and re-envisioning the interior in his signature stark concrete, which can be glimpsed from the windows of the brick shell.

As a scientist, art historian, and art conservator, I had been trained to gather data before making any inferences about an artwork or built environment (or people, for that matter). But academic knowledge cannot replace experience, and what I learned at Wrightwood 659 is how Ando engages us, body and soul, before our minds fully comprehend what we are experiencing. Naoshima provided the opportunity to visit five more Ando buildings — and learn from juxtaposing those experiences. I purposely avoided my usual full-on research of the spaces before going. I wanted to take in each building with no preconceived notions or expectations — to allow Ando to teach and surprise me.

And surprise and delight me he did. There were so many moments in each building that stuck with me… this missive would be a tome if I tried to describe them all. Highlights will have to suffice.

Sunday: Benesse House Museum

We arrived in Naoshima and immediately headed to Benesse House Museum, the only one open on Sunday. I was beyond excited to visit. Once inside, we were rewarded with picture windows into the circular atrium. I instantly knew I had to climb the stairs that led to nowhere. At the top, I had to laugh. Ando had made that spot the perfect vantage point from which to spy the reception desk through a perfectly placed picture window. I could almost hear him whisper, “Here’s your reward for climbing these stairs.”

I heard Ando whisper something else: “I’ll reveal the sea when you’re ready for it.” Ando framed the view of the Seto Inland Sea with curved concrete walls, on which are displayed Hiroshi Sugimoto’s “Time Exposed” series — photographs of liminal seascapes that are perfectly offset by the gray concrete walls as they lead your eye to the real seascape in front of you. Looking at his photographs and then the sea, I could feel my body floating in the water.

For details from Benesse House Museum and the rest of my Japan travels, follow me on Instagram.

Monday: Into the Ando-verse

Monday brought total immersion: four Ando buildings that took us deeper into the earth, and his world.

Ando buried the Chichu Art Museum underground to preserve the island’s natural landscape. From the sky, it looks like a didactic puzzle that teaches toddlers their shapes (parents: amirite?). The aerial view reveals that Ando designed each gallery to be lit by a single, precisely calculated light source — geometric skylights that transform the interiors as the sky changes overhead.

After walking through a slightly darkened and narrow corridor, we were shunted into an open courtyard. The only way to go is up an integrated staircase at the periphery, into the upper floors. There the first of three experiences greeted us. We were asked by the visitor assistants to remove our shoes and wear slippers before entering a single room edged with slivers of daylight from above. And hanging in all their glory are five versions of Monet’s Waterlilies. I gasped in surprise.

The family and I studied those paintings as best we could in the gray daylight before moving to the second highlight, Open Field by James Turrell. We stood at the base of stairs gazing at a blue projection. After a few minutes, the exceedingly hospitable visitor assistants encouraged us to climb the stairs and then, amazingly, step into the light. It was not a screen but in fact a cavern. It felt like entering a sacred tomb. I held hands with my kids as we watched the ethereal light cycle through the rainbow.

But it was Walter De Maria’s Time/Timeless/No Time (2004) that was my absolute favorite highlight.

De Maria’s installation tickled my art-and-science heart in the most delicious ways. It hearkens back to classical and Renaissance canons with its specific references to sacred geometry and mathematical precision. The gilt wooden posts scattered around the room are each shaped in cross-section as triangles, rectangles, or pentagons, arranged in specific combinations that felt both random and inevitable. The giant orb at the center reflect these geometric forms, lit by the daylight masterfully filtered by Ando. As my daughter adroitly observed, they looked like windows in a church clerestory.

Standing there, I felt like we were in a modern temple. It felt sacred and glorious — the combination of De Maria’s mathematical precision and Ando’s choreographed light creating something that bypassed intellectual understanding and hit my senses directly. I wanted to stay there forever.

If Chichu offered an intimate, ethereal experience, the Naoshima New Museum of Art was the complete opposite. As with Benesse, Ando buried two of the building’s three floors so the outline barely disrupts the terrain. He uses his signature concrete as well as black plaster, glass, and pebble walls to integrate the architecture with the surrounding nature. The galleries are expansive and well-lit, whether by artificial or natural light, in keeping with the museum’s dedication to contemporary Asian art.

The inaugural installation, “From the Origin to the Future” (still on view), consists of site-specific large-scale installations, and we were gratified to immerse ourselves in so many great artworks. There was a sense of fear and urgency as we walked through Cai Guo-Qiang’s installation of “Head On” (2006). Murakami settled a family debate that had been raging since we visited Nijo Castle in Kyoto two days earlier: could ninjas actually breach those walls? Murakami’s monumental work included that exact scenario (see image), and we burst out laughing as our kids proclaimed victory. Part of Do Ho Suh’s “Hub/s” (2025) recreated a NYC apartment (specifically, 455 W23rd St, apt 15C) that was so similar to our own Brooklyn place, right down to the peephole security box on the door. And there was pride in seeing South Asian representation with N.S. Harsha’s “Happily Married Life” (2025) in the cafe. Despite standing in a foreign place, NNMoA gave us a sense of belonging, confirming that we are not just New Yorkers, but also global citizens.

Minamidera was designed by Tadao Ando to house another work by James Turrell, “Backside of the Moon” (1999). It is located in an area that was once home to five temples and shrines and the ruins of a castle. The name “Minamidera” (“southern temple”) pays homage to the temples which once stood here. As we queued for our entrance time, the visitor assistant gave us instructions on how to navigate the space. Use your hand on the wall to guide you. Find the bench. Sit down and look straight ahead. Unlike the other Turrell experiences, this one is in total darkness. I was nervous. I could smell the wood facade as it baked in the sun. Gradually, I became aware of near-infrared lights rotating over us to help eyes adjust. They created the eerie sensation of being spotlit in an invisible performance, or an interrogation room.

And then, a faint blue rectangle appeared, as if out of nowhere. Though I had been preparing for a moment of revelation from the moment I sat down, it still made me gasp out loud. The visitor assistants invited to approach the color field. Once again, the field was not two-dimensional, but another cavern, this time at midsection height. We extended our hands into the blue. The air was cooler, the tannic smell of sun-baked wood absent. I felt as if I was vibrating with the light’s wavelength.

Our final stop was the Ando Museum. Here, Ando had inserted his concrete volumes into an existing structure — this time, a traditional Japanese wooden house… an intervention that felt deeply familiar after Wrightwood 659. There were surprises at every corner. A slanted wall, a stairwell with a mere horizontal slit of a window, a silo in the basement where our voices echoed. And the subtle transition from the scent of pine to petrichor as we descended, imbedding the memories even more deeply.

Concrete and Light: Art as a Full-Body Experience

In reflecting on our visit to Naoshima, I am reminded of what Morpehus says to Neo in The Matrix (1999): “Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself”. This is absolutely true for so many of Ando’s buildings and the art they shelter: true understanding requires direct experience rather than just theoretical knowledge.

To quote Ando, “Architecture must be felt from within. It’s a physical experience.” I hope you get to experience his “Matrix,” too.

And yesterday I eagerly devoured her missive as usual — and was stopped cold by an announcement included in her email.

At first, I thought it had to be a joke. Maybe satire? Maybe someone was doing something clever?

But no.

The “Namaste Expo” trade show is coming to town, folks. It’s being launched by Texas Bookman for “New Age, Metaphysics, and Spirituality” publishers and wholesalers.

But wait, it gets worse.

And yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. That little “Ⓡ” next to “Namaste” means they trademarked it.

Let me say that again: They. Trademarked. Namaste — a Sanskrit greeting that millions of people around the world have been using for thousands of years.

I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in.

What “Namaste” Actually Means
(No, it does not mean “you’re hot” in yoga-speak)

Yet again, here is a historically marginalized person of color from the impacted community doing the work (I’m looking at you, Texas Bookman).

“Namaste” (नमस्ते) comes from Sanskrit. It’s a respectful greeting that translates roughly to “I bow to the divine in you.” It’s used across South Asia in contexts ranging from casual hellos to deeply spiritual acknowledgments of shared humanity.

It is not:

• A brand name

• A catch-all term for “exotic spiritual stuff”

• Your intellectual property to trademark

And yet, here we are.

My Culture Is Not Your Commodity

Here’s what really gets me: According to their promotional materials, this expo is for “New Age, Metaphysics, and Spirituality” — which is apparently code for “we’ve taken a 5,000-year-old civilization’s philosophical and spiritual traditions, stripped them of all context and meaning, and repackaged them for wholesale distribution.”

South Asian culture is not yoga mats and crystals. We are not your aesthetic. We are not the backdrop for your vision board. We have:

• Multiple major world religions that originated on our subcontinent

• Dozens of classical dance forms

• Hundreds of languages

• Thousands of years advancing philosophy, mathematics, chemistry, astronomy, literature, and art globally

• Complex histories of colonization, partition, diaspora, and resistance

But sure, slap “Namaste” on your trade show and call it a day. That totally captures the depth and breadth of our cultural contributions. 🙄

The Audacity of That Trademark

How exactly did they secure a trademark on “Namaste”? Did they consult with any South Asian cultural organizations? Did they consider that this word belongs to millions of people who’ve been saying it for millennia before Texas Bookman decided to monetize it?

This is textbook cultural appropriation: taking elements of a marginalized culture, stripping them of meaning, and profiting from them — all while the people from that culture continue to face discrimination, stereotyping, and erasure.

This is “Sabzi”-gate all over again. I almost want to open a cultural center next to this… abomination… with the same name and use the lawsuit to get them to change their fakakta name.

The Irony Is Epic

Let’s talk about the leadership behind this expo, shall we?

The show is being spearheaded by Crystal Reyes — note the Hispanic surname — whose LinkedIn describes her expertise in “Trendwatching” and “Pop Culture.” (Ah yes, South Asian spiritual traditions: so hot right now! 🔥)

Here’s a thought exercise, Crystal: What if you’d named this expo “Hola“? After all, it’s a greeting! It’s welcoming! It’s... oh wait, would that feel weird? Would it feel like your culture was being reduced to a trendy branding opportunity?

Yeah. That’s what this feels like to us.

The other key players listed — Mark Wren, Jeff Hudson, Patrick McNelis, Kathryn Williams — don’t appear to include a single South Asian person. Not one. And yet they’re building an entire commercial venture around packaging and selling “spirituality” that is heavily drawn from (read: stolen from) our cultural traditions.

“New Age Spirituality” Is Doing A LOT of Heavy Lifting Here

Let’s be clear: the modern “New Age” movement has made a lucrative business out of cherry-picking from Indigenous, Eastern, and South Asian spiritual practices — often without credit, context, or compensation to the cultures of origin.

Yoga became a $12 billion industry in the U.S. alone, largely disconnected from its Hindu and Jain roots. Ayurveda gets reduced to turmeric lattes. Sacred practices become “wellness trends.” And actual South Asian spiritual teachers are often sidelined in favor of white “gurus” who took a weekend certification course.

So when Texas Bookman launches a trade show called “Namaste” for the “New Age, Metaphysics, and Spirituality” market, what they’re really doing is creating a marketplace for cultural extraction. They’re not honoring South Asian spirituality — they’re commodifying it.

Respect What You Don’t Understand

Look, I get it. The organizers probably think they’re being respectful. They probably think “namaste” is a beautiful word that captures the spirit of their event. They probably had no idea this would be a problem.

But that’s exactly the issue: they didn’t know because they didn’t bother to learn.

If they had reached out to the South Asian community — to cultural leaders, spiritual teachers, the South Asian community in Texas, or any of the millions of people for whom “namaste” is part of their actual lived experience and heritage — they would have learned that this is offensive. They would have understood why this feels like yet another instance of our culture being mined for profit while we watch from the sidelines.

Instead, they just... did it. Because they could. Because “namaste” has been so thoroughly appropriated in Western contexts that I guess it seemed like fair game to build a commercial enterprise around it. To reduce millennia of tradition to a trade show brand.

Cultural respect isn’t about having good intentions. It’s about doing the work to understand the significance of what you’re borrowing, engaging with the communities of origin, and asking yourself: “Is this mine to take?”

In this case, the answer is a resounding no.

An Olive Branch (Because I’m Feeling Generous)

I’ve spent nearly 20 years researching South Asian art and culture. I’ve worked as a cultural consultant for Hollywood films, museums, and major corporations. I co-authored a Wall Street Journal bestseller on diversity and inclusion. I know this terrain inside and out.

So, because I am a South Asian Cultural Consultant and have given numerous talks on how to avoid cultural appropriation, I’m offering Texas Bookman a way forward.

If you — Crystal Reyes, Texas Bookman, anyone involved with this expo — genuinely want to create a respectful event that honors the spiritual traditions you’re centering, call me. Hire South Asian cultural consultants. Bring South Asian authors, publishers, and spiritual teachers into leadership roles. And most importantly, consider renaming your event something that doesn’t appropriate our language.

And maybe — just maybe — ask yourself whether the “New Age, Metaphysics, and Spirituality” market needs to be centered around South Asian cultural elements at all, or if there are other ways to frame your event that don’t require extracting from cultures you don’t belong to.

Crystal Reyes and Texas Bookman, if you want to do better, I’m here. My DMs are open. Let’s talk.

What You Can Do

If this makes you as angry as it makes me, here’s how you can help:

1. Share this newsletter. Let’s make sure the publishing community knows what’s happening here.

2. Contact Texas Bookman directly. Let them know this isn’t okay. Here’s their contact page.

3. Support South Asian authors and creators. Buy our books. Amplify our voices. Hire us as consultants. Our culture is not a trend — we are here, creating, and deserving of being centered in our own stories.

4. If you’re planning to attend or exhibit at this expo, reconsider. Or at the very least, ask the organizers: “Where are the South Asian voices in leadership? How are you ensuring cultural respect? Why did you trademark a sacred word?”

Sandhya Jain-Patel is a fine art appraiser and advisor, South Asian cultural consultant, former Christie’s VP and Senior Specialist of South and Southeast Asian Art. She is also an author and currently writing “The Navagraha Chronicles,” a masala romantasy trilogy that centers South Asian culture with respect and depth. She is available for cultural consulting work and can be reached by email or found at Jain of All Trades.

It’s been weeks since I’ve written or published anything. I haven’t had the energy and, to be honest, I’ve been asking myself, “What’s the point? Shouldn’t I be doing something else with my time? Something that saves the world?” Everything feels so heavy than ever right now. My heart grieves for the loss of loved ones, and for our children who may have nothing good left to inherit. It is easy to feel paralyzed, to give up any joy that sustains us.

But I keep thinking about that line from Rogue One: A Star Wars Story: “Rebellions are built on hope.” And hope needs sustenance. So instead of thinking about what to give up this year, I’ve thought about what I refuse to surrender.

More specifically: I’ve thought about what I refuse to surrender to you.

This is what I’ve been sitting with during these weeks of silence: You, dear reader — my first members of the Devata Circle — believed in this work. You supported it, funded it, championed it when it was just a promise and a prayer. You placed your faith — and often your money — in a story that didn’t exist yet, in me, a writer still becoming.

That faith is not something I take lightly. And the question that’s been haunting me through these dark weeks is this: How do I honor your investment when the world is demanding I put my resources elsewhere?

The answer, I think, lies in an old story.

The Golden Circle

Early in the Ramayana — one of India’s ancient epics — when Ram, Sita, and Laxman are living in exile in the forest. Ram and Laxman must leave Sita alone in their hut while they pursue a mysterious golden deer (spoiler alert: the mysterious deer is actually a demon in disguise). Before leaving, Laxman draws a protective circle around the hut and tells his sister-in-law: “Stay within this boundary. Whatever happens outside, do not cross this line. Inside, you are safe.”

The circle is called a Laxman Rekha — a boundary drawn with intention, a line that says: This far, and no further.

Unfortunately, the demon tricks Sita. She steps outside the circle’s protection, and he abducts her, setting into motion a narrative of epic proportions — of a war between good and evil, encompassing all the chaos that makes it one of the world’s greatest stories.

I keep thinking about that circle. About proactively drawing a boundary and saying: Inside this line, I protect what matters most.

We named our son after Laxman, The Protector (one of many of his noble qualities). And our son has taught me what his namesake understood: the circle protects not just me, but all of us within it. In the face of chaos in the outside world, this boundary gives my family room to flourish, to grow into people who will leave the world better than they found it.

So in a world that is on fire, I’m drawing my own golden circle. Amongst the treasures this circle is protecting inside it is the work you believed in.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope

As a caregiver — a mother, a wife, the person who keeps the hearth alive — I know the deep-seated instinct to put others’ needs first. But you, dear Devata, did not invest in “Sandhya the Mother” or “Sandhya the Wife.” You invested in Sandhya the Writer. In the person who crafts stories rooted in mythology and modernity, who knows brown women deserve to be heroes, who believes fantasy and romance and cultural authenticity can live together in the same epic narrative.

Staying inside my golden circle isn’t selfish. It’s essential. I cannot write the book you supported if I step outside and let myself be caught up in the chaos. So I’m keeping Sandhya the Writer safely ensconced in the golden circle. Protecting her work, and the promise I made to you when I asked for your support.

Inside this boundary: reading, writing, the small rebellions of joy and wonder and hope. Daily work in the London Writers Salon Residency to which I was recently accepted. (More on that later — it deserves its own missive.) Research that feeds the creative capacity you believed in.

Outside this boundary: everything that would drown me and my creativity in despair.

Rebellions aren’t built on despondence. They’re built on hope — and hope needs to be fed to stay alive. You fed it when you believed in this work. So this is my promise to you: I will stay inside the circle. I will continue to feed that fire. I will protect what you believed in.

What are you protecting, Dear Devata? What did you invest in — creative or otherwise — that needs its own golden circle?

I want to know. Drop a comment below so I can champion you in return.

The universe is vast, love transcends worlds, and our best stories are still being written.

Wishing you fire, salt, and magic,
Sandhya

As we close out 2025, I’ve been thinking about what I want to take with me into the new year. Not the tasks I completed or the boxes I checked, but the deeper shifts—the lessons learned, the identities claimed, the choices that changed how I live.

Here are some questions that might help you do the same:

1. What did you learn about yourself this year? What surprised you about your own capacity, resilience, or creativity?

2. What did you finally claim or commit to? What identity, title, or dream did you stop hesitating about and fully embrace?

3. What did you let go of? What expectation, comparison, or obligation did you release—and how did that change your life?

4. How does your “real work” inform your creative work? What expertise, day job, or life experience made your art more authentic?

5. What does “enough” look like for you? When will what you have be fulfilling so you can put your energy to other pursuits?

WHAT I ACHIEVED IN 2025

I completed a full draft of my manuscript. Let me be clear: I didn’t finish Fire and Aish this year in the way I’d hoped. I took some much-needed time away from it to teach myself more about the craft of writing and to read voraciously (2025 reading roundup coming soon). But this year, I came back with fresh eyes and finished a complete draft with an updated story that has even more stakes and tension than before. I can’t wait to dive into the revisions. It’s going to be a BANGER.

I recommitted to my author platform. My Instagram, this newsletter, and my website had been lying dormant for a few years. This year, I committed to using them to engage my supporters (you!) and build a community of writers and readers. I’m not as prolific as others, but I’ve learned that I need to protect my energy for my books and make social media work for me, not the other way around. Slow and steady wins the race.

I staked my claim for Masala Romantasy. Part of finding and engaging with my readers and writers community was defining what I’m creating: Masala Romantasy — unabashedly romantic and fantastic stories that center South Asian culture and characters. It’s not “inspired by” or “influenced by” — it’s rooted in our actual traditions, mythology, and family dynamics. Read about it here and follow me on Instagram for more examples.

I let go of the corporate rat race. This might be the most important accomplishment of all. I stopped trying to get back into the corporate world, stopped measuring my worth by titles assigned by others. Instead, I claimed the title “Jain of All Trades” — in effect, a portfolio career where I can engage with the work I love on my terms—appraising South Asian art, writing Masala Romantasy, raising humans who will have a positive impact on the future, and safeguarding my health. My partner and I have built a life that is enough. A life that meets our needs, so we can prioritize intangible over tangible wealth.

I fully embraced my identity as an author. Even though I am a Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author, I was shy about identifying as an author. This year, I committed to it as one of my “trades,” ie, my career. Not something I do on the side or when I have time, but a core part of my professional identity.

I integrated my two careers. I don’t task-switch between my two professions; I integrate them. Fine art appraising isn’t separate from writing Masala Romantasy—it’s research, continuing education, and what makes my writing accurate and grounded in actual South and Southeast Asian visual traditions.

Every artwork I examine teaches me something new: colors and elements and gems for the Courts of Navagraha, symbolism that deepens my magic system, cultural objects and architectural details that ground my worldbuilding. When I write about jewelry that channels elemental mana, I’m thinking about the Mughal pieces I’ve examined. When I describe the hand gestures my Devatas use to flash their powers, I’m drawing from the mudras held by antique sculptures I’ve studied professionally. This is the Masala Romantasy promise: authenticity backed by expertise.

I learned to protect my energy. I wrote a personal essay for Open Secrets Substack about health and boundaries, forcing myself to confront something uncomfortable: I can’t be my best parent / appraiser / author unless I prioritize those things. So I took a hard look at where I spent my time in the previous year, and pruned ruthlessly. Being productive means being strategic about where I invest my limited time and energy.

WHAT I’M CARRYING FORWARD

Your culture isn’t “niche” — it’s necessary. The specificity is exactly what makes it resonate. Cultural authenticity isn’t limiting; it’s liberating.

Representation requires research, even for your own culture. Being South Asian doesn’t automatically make me an expert on every aspect of South Asian culture, but being willing to do the work makes my representation authentic. My art world training taught me this—I can’t appraise South Asian artworks without deep knowledge of regional traditions, materials, techniques, and historical context. The same principle applies to writing.

Rest is part of the creative process. Some weeks I wrote 5,000 words. Other weeks I wrote nothing and read — whether it was on craft, or in my genre. Both are necessary. Taking time away from my manuscript is not failure — it is preparation.

Community beats competition, always. Every South Asian author’s success makes space for more of us. I firmly believe a rising tide raises all boats, and I will always champion my fellow writers’ success.

Integration beats separation. For years I kept my art world career and my writing life in separate boxes. This year I learned they strengthen each other. The art expertise informs the writing. The creative work renews my visual and analytical skills. Letting them collaborate makes both — and me — better.

Enough is enough. The most radical thing I did this year was stop competing and start living. My partner and I built a life that meets our needs, supports our health, and prioritizes our children. We’re not trying to keep up with anyone else’s definition of success. We’re building our own.

NOW IT’S YOUR TURN

I’ve shared what I achieved and what I’m carrying forward. Now I want to hear about you: What are you carrying forward from 2025 into 2026?

I’m listening.

Go back to those questions at the top of this newsletter. Pick one — or all five — and hit reply. Even if it’s one sentence. Even if it feels small. I read every response, and I promise: whatever you achieved this year and whatever you’re carrying forward is worth celebrating.

Leave a comment

WHAT’S NEXT

Fire and Aish (Book 1 in The Navagraha Trilogy) is ready for revisions, and I’m diving in with fresh eyes and renewed energy. I’m working on raising stakes, deepening the tension (romantic and otherwise), and ensuring cultural authenticity. My art world work continues to inform every detail.

Find me on Instagram for behind-the-scenes writing glimpses, deep dives into South Asian mythology, and more Masala Romantasy stories. 2026 is going to be big. I can feel it. I’m so glad you’re here for it.

THANK YOU

You were here this year. You showed up. You engaged with South Asian characters and culture. You made Masala Romantasy feel like a community, not just a subgenre. Thank you for giving me a reason to keep going.

With gratitude, cosmic mana, and kala namak,
Sandhya

As some of you already know, I’ve devoted my professional life to spotlight South Asia’s contributions to global arts and culture. As the VP and Head of the Indian, Himalayan, and Southeast Asian Department at Christie’s, it was my mission to ensure our art and culture was portrayed and received as equal — not inferior or subordinate — to Western traditions. By specifically using “masala” with “romance,” I am reminding my readers of how much South Asia has influenced the world. We can see it in how much of our everyday English language comes from South (and Southeast) Asia. Not just yoga, pyjama, and chai — but the very spices that season our metaphors for storytelling.

So I’m proposing something new: The Masala Romance Rating System. Think of it as your guide to finding romances that satisfy multiple cravings, whether you want cozy comfort reads or fiery page-turners.

The Masala Dabba: Five Spices to Rate Any Book

Picture an Indian spice box (a masala dabba) with five compartments (the one above has more). Each holds a different spice that measures a crucial element of Masala Romance:

1. 🟤 Jeera Seeds (Cumin): South Asian Character Centrality ⇒ Are South Asian characters actually driving the story?

• 🟤 Token presence (side character, culture barely mentioned)

• 🟤🟤 Supporting character

• 🟤🟤🟤 Co-protagonist, cultural identity matters

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤 Solo SA protagonist, culture woven throughout

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤🟤 Multiple SA leads, culture is foundational
  

2. 🟢 Cardamom Pods: Family Relationships ⇒ How central is family to the plot? (Because let’s be real, South Asian families are never just background noise.)

• 🟢 Mentioned but off-page

• 🟢🟢 Family appears occasionally

• 🟢🟢🟢 Family influences character decisions

• 🟢🟢🟢🟢 Family relationships create major conflict or support

• 🟢🟢🟢🟢🟢 Family is absolutely central to plot and character arcs

3. 🟠 Haldi (Turmeric): Cultural Authenticity ⇒ How is South Asian culture woven in? This one needs both quantity AND quality.
Quantity:

• 🟠 Surface mentions (food, clothing)

• 🟠🟠 Some cultural practices

• 🟠🟠🟠 Culture throughout (festivals, language, family dynamics)

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠 Culture shapes worldbuilding or magic systems

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠🟠 Culture is the foundation of everything

Quality / Authenticity Meter:

• ✨ Nuanced & Researched — Thoughtful, avoids stereotypes

• 🤷 Simplistic — Reductive but not actively harmful

• 🚩 Stereotypical — Exoticism, harmful tropes, tokenism
  

4. 🌶️ Chili Peppers: Physical Intimacy Level ⇒ How steamy does it get?

• 🌶️ Clean/No Spice — No on-page intimacy, platonic vibes

• 🌶️🌶️ Closed Door/Fade to Black — Physical intimacy exists, but the door closes before things get explicit

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Open Door — On-page intimacy with sensual, metaphor-rich language

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Explicit/High Heat — Full physical and emotional details, no euphemisms, dirty talk included

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Erotica Level — Highly explicit, frequent scenes, kink exploration, sexual content central to plot
  

5. 💛 Saffron Threads: Romance Tropes ⇒ How many beloved romance tropes show up? (Enemies to lovers, fated mates, forbidden love, forced proximity, chosen one, found family, etc.)

• 💛 (1-2 tropes)

• 💛💛 (2-3 tropes)

• 💛💛💛 (3-4 tropes)

• 💛💛💛💛 (4-5 tropes)

• 💛💛💛💛💛 (5+ tropes)

The Masala Blend Shorthand

Because rating five categories every time is a lot of work (for me and for you), books can also be described as specific masala blends:
🔥 Garam Masala = Hot and bold (4-5 chilis, high heat, intense tropes, unapologetic spice)
🍋 Chaat Masala = Tart and flavorful (2-3 chilis, tangy, complex, balanced substance and spice)
☕ Chai Masala = Cozy and warm (0-2 chilis, sweet and comforting, closed door or clean)

The Masala Romance Rating System in Practice

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤🟤 Dual South Asian leads (Indian-inspired world)

• 🟢🟢🟢 Family matters but isn’t central

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠🟠 Indian history and epics foundational to worldbuilding

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Open Door

• 💛💛💛💛 Enemies to lovers, forbidden love, political intrigue, sapphic romance

Blend: 🍋 Chaat Masala

Heart of Night and Fire by Nisha J. Tuli

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤 SA protagonist (Indian mythology-inspired

• 🟢🟢 Family present but not central

• 🟠🟠🟠🟠 ✨ Indian mythology shapes magic system and creatures (rakshasa, Aazheri sorcerers)

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Explicit/High Heat

• 💛💛💛 Forced proximity, forbidden magic, slow burn to enemies-to-lovers

Blend: 🍋 Chaat Masala

Example 3: The Marriage Game by Sara Desai

• 🟤🟤🟤🟤 Dual Indian-American leads

• 🟢🟢🟢🟢🟢 Family is everything (meddling dad, matchmaking chaos)

• 🟠🟠🟠 ✨Contemporary Indian-American culture, food, family dynamics

• 🌶️🌶️🌶️ Open Door

• 💛💛💛 Enemies to lovers, forced proximity (shared office)

Blend: 🍋 Chaat Masala

Now I Need Your Help!

This rating system is just a proposal. Before I commit to using it regularly, I need your feedback:

1. Does this system make sense to you? Are the categories clear and useful?

2. What would you change? Too many categories? Not enough? Different spices?

3. Which books should I rate first? Drop your favorite South Asian romance / romantasy titles in the comments!

4. Would you actually use this when recommending books to friends or choosing your next read?

I don’t plan to review books regularly — this is more about creating a shared language for discussing Masala Romance. A way to say “I want something cozy with strong family vibes” (Chai Masala with 5 cardamom pods!) or “Give me the spiciest, most culturally rich fantasy you’ve got” (Garam Masala with all 5s!).

So, based on the Masala Romance Rating system: What is your ideal masala blend?

This is Part 3 and the final installment of my summer vacation story. To understand how we got here, read Part 1 and Part 2. Thanks for supporting Jain of All Trades!

Petrified Forest, Painted Desert, and a METEOR CRATER?!?!

At this point in our trip, we were knocking off a few locations in quick succession as we made our way to the Grand Canyon:

I know Samir wants me to tell you how awesome the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest are — and they are really beautiful and worth visiting — but I have to tell you, the meteor crater just about KNOCKED me over. Even though I saw it with my own eyes, it’s size was still unfathomable — about a kilometer across and 750 feet deep. From the observation deck you really can’t get a sense of depth, until you look through the mounted binoculars and see a teeeeeeeny tiny NASA Spacesuit all the way at the bottom — nearly invisible to the naked eye on a sunny day. It’s a young crater, about 50,000 years old, and therefore well-preserved. I even made a friend 👽 (see photo). Given my love for all things related to space and interstellar travel —including my Masala Romantasy WIP — I will definitely remember this part of our trip.

From there, it was more or less a straight shot to the Grand Canyon.

The Grand Canyon

I’ve been to the Grand Canyon once before, when I was our son’s age. This was a very different experience. We stayed at an amazing geodesic dome outside the park, which was a super-fun experience. You can see my little video about it here:

Whether igloo, hut, or lean-to...

The first day we hiked the rim and learned that in the geological stratigraphy, rocks named after Hindu Gods — Vishnu (see photo), Brahma, Shiva, and Rama — form the basement layer of the canyon, and tell the story of how Earth’s continental crust formed in this region. Lesson? South Asian culture underpins everything, literally! 💪🏾

We also shared our second surprise — a helicopter ride over the canyon. Seeing the Colorado River and all the different formations from above was truly a magical experience. I’m so grateful we got to share that as a family.

We capped off our visit by watching the sunset from Desert View. I don’t think any of us will ever forget such a beautiful trip together.

Zion

In my previous missive, we left off in Salt Lake City. The following day was another fun drive in the Family Truckster to Zion National Park. This… was… AWESOME. Zion is so unbelievably gorgeous. The layers of rock stratigraphy tell a fascinating geological history on the scale of millions of years, and the colors look luminous at every level of sunlight. We stayed at a lovely property that had several swimming pools and deer that roamed the property.

Our hotel was right near the park entrance, so we were able to get to the Narrows early the next morning. The Narrows is, well, the narrowest section of Zion Canyon (duh), basically a slot canyon carved by the Virgin River, with walls a thousand feet tall and the river sometimes just twenty to thirty feet wide. Samir had done some planning and also checked the flash flood warnings. The day’s report said “probable,” which meant we wanted to get in and out early. We took the shuttle to the Temple of Sinawava by 8:30am and walked about a mile in to the riverbank… and then started walking in the river 😳We were determined to make it to Wall Street, a famous section where the cliff walls are very steep and the scenery is more dramatic. This meant a total hike of ~7.5 miles — 6 of it in the Virgin River.

A word to the wise: When you hike the Narrows, make sure to rent the neoprene socks to wear with your hiking boots (or rent their waterproof hiking boots). And you will be in waist-deep water (see photo above), so wear bathing shorts or clothes that are quick-dry. Hiking poles help for balance, as the current can be stronger than it looks in some areas.

When we finally made it to Wall Street, our daughter was beyond over it; in fact, she had wanted to turn back about a half-mile earlier. After a few tears and lots of snacks, we managed to capture the photos above before turning back. It felt faster on the return, but the water was also deeper. I’m glad we were out by noon — the park ranger we came across said the rain had started on the plateau, which meant the risk for flash floods had increased. We later found out they had closed the Narrows at 2pm…! I’m so glad we got to hike this amazing trail.

Bryce Canyon

After a lazy afternoon by the pool and a refreshing night’s rest, we drove to Bryce Canyon the next day for the first of two surprises for the kids — a horseback ride down into the canyon! Now, I love love LOVE horses. I remember learning to ride one summer from the Holmdel Park System in New Jersey, and I wish I had been able to keep it up. Samir rode a horse once — for 15 minutes — at our wedding, and the kids had never been on horses. Fortunately, we got some great mounts who, let’s face it, do this trail day in and day out, so we didn’t have to do much other than not fall off. Samir rode Barney, the kids had Antelope and Tugboat. My horse, Cricket, was a little uppity and kept wandering wayyyy too close to the edge to eat some shrubbery, but I managed to keep him on the path.

Bryce Canyon is beautiful. They have natural rock formations called “hoodoos,” which look manmade but are actually shaped by the wind — you can see them behind us in the photo above. As with Zion, the colors and stratigraphy were gorgeous, and it was such a treat to see the whole canyon from top to bottom from the (relatively) comfortable perch of a saddle. (I say “relatively” because we all did get sore, and it took maybe a week for my inner thighs to stop aching!).

Sights to Celebrate My Solar Circumambulation

At this point, we are about halfway through our trip, marked by my birthday! 🥳As part of our transit day, we stopped at Horseshoe Bend, which is carved by a dramatic 270-degree turn of the Colorado River. Though technically not part of the Grand Canyon (even though our National Parks water bottles use it on the Grand Canyon sticker, pfft), it definitely gives those same vibes, and is similarly incomprehensibly HUGE. It was also getting hotter, and walking nearly a mile from the parking lot to the overlook was hard on our daughter and I. We took advantage of every shaded seating area provided and kept drinking water.

Our next stop and highlight of my birthday was Antelope Canyon. We did a tour led by the Navajo Nation that led us below ground, where the temperature was so much cooler, and of course, we were in shade. When you think of the American Southwest, this is where all those iconic photos are taken. The dramatic curves and undercuts of the rock expose all the layers so beautifully, it’s as if a Renaissance artist had carved them, not just the elements. I wish we could have done all three walkthroughs — I really did not want to leave.

What kept me moving on to our next destination was the promise of fry bread in Monument Valley. We stopped for dinner at a hilltop restaurant with a gorgeous view of the valley. We ordered way too much food and managed to put away half. Then Samir and the kids ordered dessert and the entire restaurant sang “Happy Birthday” to me. I am definitely not shy about celebrating my birthday. AND it was really good apple pie.

As we left the next day, we took the iconic picture from Forrest Gump of us on the highway, with Monument Valley in the background.

Even though I’m trying to be brief, this missive (massive? 😜) is nearing the length limit. Stay tuned for Part 3!

1

Please follow these steps to set your newsletter preferences. From the Substack website or app:

1. Go to your settings: navigate to your account settings page or select your profile icon in the app and choose Settings.

2. Select the publication: Under your list of subscriptions, click on the specific publication you want to change.

3. Manage notifications: head to Notifications on the next page.

4. Toggle the section off: find the section you want to opt out of and slide the toggle next to it to the “off” (gray) position.

Saturday 4 October at 3:35pm UK / 10:35 ET, I’m reading for the British Fantasy Society. The theme is “Something Monstrous.”

This is part of an all-day online event to “discuss the origins and evolutions of monsters in SFFH.” You can find the program online here.

I honestly do not know how or why they accepted me, and I’m terrified. If you can spare the time and the ticket cost, please join in. I’d be grateful for your support!

Dear readers, you may have noticed I now have two types of missives. Jain of All Trades will continue to be a snapshot into my unhinged thoughts on a variety of subjects, and Masala Romance is where I will document the behind-the-scenes of writing my debut South-Asian-flavored scifi romance, and the South Asian philosophies that build my fantasy world. If you’d like to modify which missive/s you receive via email, please go to your.substack.com/account and adjust your settings accordingly1

Now, back to today’s missive…

A year-and-change into my partner’s job has established a new rhythm for our family summer holiday. It’s a lock that we will be vacationing in August, and most likely during my birthday (17 August… and I’m still accepting presents). Last year was a once-in-a-lifetime trip for a landmark birthday. This year was also national parks — of the US, that is. Below is our roundup of our trip and a smattering of highlight photos.

The Plan:

To paraphrase my friend Heather, if a trip has more than two stops, my brain breaks. Thank goodness my partner is an excellent trip planner. As with last year’s vacation to Kenya, this year’s jaunt was an upgrade of Samir’s roadtrip from his mid-twenties — seven National Parks, this time with proper lodging and meals, because there is no way our kids or I would sleep in roadside tents for two weeks! 😜

TL;DR: Here’s the list of the National Parks and sites we visited:

1. Yellowstone

2. Grand Tetons / Jenny Lake

3. Zion

4. Horseshoe Bend

5. Antelope Canyon

6. Monument Valley

7. Petrified Forest

8. Grand Canyon

Let me know: Have you visited any of these places?

Leave a comment

I’m glad Samir planned our trip in this order. With each new location, our experiences grew in magnitude, whether it was bigger, stranger, or more arduous. I appreciated the slow build.

Yellowstone

[Caption for video: Click to hear what our daughter has to say about the mud volcanoes at Yellowstone 🙊]

We flew from Newark to Bozeman, Montana, which is a cute and very manageable small airport. Since we have Avis status (we so few statuses these days so we relish every one!) our cherry-red Chrysler Pacifica minivan was already waiting for us. After an early flight, it felt awesome to throw our stuff in this giant vehicle and hit the road. Buh-bye Montana!

Nearly two-and-a-half hours later, we were parked outside of our hotel in Yellowstone. The kids and I were waiting in the minivan while Samir checked us in — me in the front, our daughter stretching her legs, and our son digging out his phone and trying to get on wifi. I turned as our daughter was climbing back in when, out of the corner of my eye, I see a white SUV headed to us — a split-second before they crashed into our parked car! Thank goodness our daughter had just hopped back in, or she could have been hurt. I definitely cursed and jumped out, just in time to see the driver quickly switch with his daughter and hide in the back. That’s right — she lied to my face and to the police about driving the car, while her cowardly father hid in the back. And when I asked her why she was lying, she started screaming at me and calling me the liar! UGH, It makes my blood boil reliving that moment. Not a great way to start our epic two-week trip, but fortunately it was the only issue we had, so maybe best to get it out of the way first.

After eventually checking in and grabbing a very late lunch, we hiked down a path to Brink of The Lower Falls, a short but very steep hike leading down to an observation platform over the Yellowstone River. It was amazing to see such natural beauty, and on a scale so different than what I had experienced before. I had not expected it to be such a steep trail and, with the elevation change (we left Brooklyn at 59 feet and arrived at Yellowstone at 7,800 feet), I was definitely winded coming back up. Even Samir felt the elevation, and he and our son just hiked the White Mountains at the beginning of the summer. Fortunately, we had salt snacks, water, and hydration tablets — constants during our entire trip.

The next two days at Yellowstone were AWESOME. We saw nearly every water feature they have, both beautiful and strange, and some super stinky (c.f. video above).

Grand Tetons

After Yellowstone, we drove about three-and-a-half hours to the Tetons. At this point, I could totally see why anyone with a family and who lives outside of NYC drives a minivan. The Family Truckster absolutely ROCKED. We had so much room for our suitcases, backpacks, hiking boots, so many places to plug in and stash our iphones and ipads and kindles, and SO… MANY… CUPHOLDERS! And the best part? Our daughter, who has been prone to motion sickness since birth, did NOT… GET… SICK… ONCE during this entire trip. I’m a lifelong convert. Too bad there’s no way we can park a boat like this on the streets of Brooklyn.

The Tetons were breathtaking. As we drove towards them, the details of their topography became more clear. We even saw glaciers from the Little Ice Age on top of the Cathedral Group of peaks… my second glacier sighting! (The first was at Mont Blanc in 2022). We took a ferry across Jenny Lake and hiked to Inspiration Falls. Despite a few days acclimatizing at Yellowstone, I was still getting winded from ascending paths, but I was not alone. At the falls, the kids climbed the rocks while we rested, then Samir and our son ran the Inspiration Point Trail while our daughter and I meandered back to the dock. It’s a good thing we got there early — the line was at least a half-hour wait for the return ferry. By the time we got towards the front, the boys arrived and we were able to traverse back together.

The next morning we drove to Salt Lake City, where we visited the Natural History Museum. We saw an amazing new dinosaur exhibition which highlighted Utah’s Gore King (!) and also how horned dinosaurs are related to each other — including one of my favorites, Triceratops. We also played this cute game of “find the tiny mammoth figurine” throughout the exhibition, which I thought was a fantastic way to get visitors involved in really looking at the displays.

1

Remember, if you want to set your newsletter preferences, please follow these steps. From the Substack website or app:

1. Go to your settings: navigate to your account settings page or select your profile icon in the app and choosing ‘Settings’.

2. Select the publication: Under your list of subscriptions, click on the specific publication you want to change.

3. Manage notifications: head to “Notifications” on the next page.

4. Toggle the section off: find the section you want to opt out of and slide the toggle next to it to the ‘off’ (gray) position.

I’m sending this dispatch while hiking through Zion National Forest. The natural beauty here is breathtaking.

August 15th is a gift from the universe — a day when both of my beloved countries, India and Italy, celebrate simultaneously. India marks its Independence Day while Italy observes Ferragosto. India represents the culture I was born into, and Italy captured my heart through years of studying art history and falling in love with everything from Caravaggio’s paintings to the perfect Barolo. I am grateful to experience and be part of both worlds.

These seemingly disparate cultures are more alike than different. Both threw off the shackles of monarchical rule within a year of each other — India won independence from British colonial control in 1947, while Italy abolished its monarchy and became a republic in 1946. Within twelve months, both nations chose democracy over centuries of monarchical subjugation. And today, both countries pause from work to rest and spend time with family and community.

I envy Italy and India for their focus on family and community over individual achievement. After years of chasing professional pinnacles, I’ve come to appreciate this cultural moré later in life than those brought up in those countries. The Italian concept of famiglia mirrors India's joint family system — multi-generational households where decisions are collective and success is measured by benefit to the group. And who can complain about how they express this love through food?!?! Whenever I visit family, whether in India or elsewhere, I’m overwhelmed at the number of dishes they prepare to honor their guests. And I cannot count how many times I’ve been treated to homemade pasta in Italian homes. Both cultures exhort “Mangia!” and “Khao!” when I’ve already eaten my fill, giving me permission to loosen my pants and happily overindulge.

Despite my love for these countries, I’m conflicted by how both societies revere feminine divinity while enforcing sometimes brutal patriarchal structures. Italy's devotion to the Virgin Mary echoes India's pantheon of powerful goddesses — Durga, Lakshmi, Saraswati. Yet both cultures constrain women's actual power, creating inexcusable conflicts I (and countless others) have had to navigate my entire life. I guess you can love someone (or something) without having to love everything about them.

As a lifelong student of both artistic traditions, I see so many similarities between them. Italian Renaissance frescoes and Indian temple paintings use continuous narrative to teach the complex mythologies upon which their religions are based. Bernini's marble figures capture divine transcendence with the same ecstasy as the quintessential Chola Nataraj bronze sculpture. Both traditions understand art as a vehicle for conveying deep passions that defy mere language.

These cultural parallels have taught me something valuable about identity. I can be fully Indian and completely Italian in my appreciation. I can love traditions while working to modernize them. I can carry multiple languages, spiritual practices, and ways of seeing the world without contradiction. As a child, I thought being different from everyone else meant I was inferior — now I know that a foundation of multiple cultures is a strength. As I continue to share my love of learning through travel and lived experiences with my children, I hope they (and their peers) learn the same.

After these cultural celebrations, I will take a page from my beloved cultures and continue to prioritize family on my birthday (17 August) while reflecting on my achievements so far. The art and culture I create, the inclusive spaces I build, the stories I amplify — these are my contributions to our communities that shape us, and hopefully make the world a better place for those who come after.

Buon Ferragosto and Happy Independence Day. May we continue to learn from and celebrate each other.

Thanks so much for reading this edition of Jain of All Trades! You can support my writing by:

❤️ Liking this post
💬 Leaving a comment — I respond to every one!
➡️ Sharing or restacking this post so others can find it
😍 Becoming a subscriber and reading more stories of reinvention, art world insights, and the courage to actively pivot towards what serves us, and shed what does not.

Wishing you laughter, magic, and salt in your life,
Sandhya

Like many of you, I have been a voracious reader my whole life. As a one-and-only brown girl growing up in my native New Jersey suburb, I longed for something interesting to happen to my life. Someplace where my strangeness meant that I was The Chosen One. Where folks said, “She’s a powerful woman,” instead of, “She’s pretty for an Indian girl.”

Escaping into epic novels gave me a safe place to feel my feelings. And I read across genres — horror (who didn’t read Stephen King?), mystery (my favorite Nancy Drew was “The Sign of the Twisted Candles”), fantasy and, of course, romance. My favorite romance writer is Judith McNaught — I still have all of her paperbacks! How I wish she had written more historical romances. The Westmoreland Dynasty is still my favorite. More recently I’ve experienced what many of you have known for a while — romantasy. Needless to say, I’m hooked.

There are so many other books since my escapism in childhood that have validated my feelings, transported me to strange worlds, and made me feel less alone in the world. And as with most books, the characters are often reflections of the author and their experience — that is to say, predominantly white. There are hardly any main characters of South Asian descent in these stories. It is very difficult to feel seen in my beloved stories I’ve read.

So, I’ve decided to do some research to find all the hidden South Asian main characters and stories centering South Asian culture. And, since I haven’t found the exact romantasy I want to read, I’ve decided to write it. “Be the change you want to see in the world,” right? This is how Masala Romance was born.

Masala Romance is a subgenre that centers South Asian characters and culture. Like any masala mix, it can range from mild to spicy — anything from “glimpses and kisses1” to “explicit and plentiful.2”

Why the spice? Why can’t Masala Romance just be… romance?

As this is part of my lifelong goal to shine a spotlight on the contributions South Asia has made to global arts and culture, and to ensure it is viewed as equal to, not below, any of the Western cultures. So calling out the influence of “masala” in romance is a necessary reminder that much of our quotidien language comes from South (and Southeast) Asia — not just yoga, naan, and chai.

For anyone new to the romance genre, there is no romance book review that exists without talking about the “spice” or “heat” level — meaning, how explicit is the language and sex in the story. More often than not, the spice levels are indicated by chili peppers, as with Romance Rehab — recalling menus at Indian restaurants.

“Masala” is also a term that has very specific connotations that “spice” tries — and fails — to deliver. “Spice something up” means to add excitement or variety to a situation that is or has become otherwise very dull… NOT what you want to read in a romance novel or review. “Masala,” on the other hand, describes something exciting, dramatic, or even a bit over-the-top, often blending the diverse thrills of romance, comedy, melodrama, and / or action. Now doesn’t that sound more like something we want to read?

Masala, aka “spice,” comes from South Asia

And if we are talking about spice, we should acknowldge how the history of the spice trade impacted the geopolitical history, leading directly to subjugation and colonization of Asia by the west. I give a brief summary of the history of the spice trade and colonization of South Asia below (see The Spice Trade and Colonization of South Asia: A Very Brief Historical Overview, below).

TL;DR: Once Europe got a taste for cinnamon and spice and everything nice, they didn’t just seek to trade fairly with these Asian kingdoms. They wanted to take it for themselves and, in the process, destroyed millenia of rich culture, history, and traditions.

Romance also originated in South Asia

Caption for video above: A scene from “Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love,” featuring Indira Varma and Sarita Choudhury

Did you know the first romance novel comes from India? The Kama Sutra, which has been widely (and wildly) misunderstood to be a compendium of sexual positions (due to an adaptation by a British explorer colonizer named Richard Francis Burton), establishes a template for the entire genre. Vātsyāyana's masterpiece reads like the ultimate romance guide, complete with detailed courtship advice, "meet cute" strategies, forbidden love scenarios, and what would today be classified as "explicit and plentiful" spice levels. The text pioneered classic romance tropes—from secret identities and forced proximity to strong female characters who actively pursue their desires—while treating physical passion and emotional connection as equally important parts of a fulfilling relationship. By combining steamy intimate scenes with genuine relationship wisdom and psychological insights into attraction and desire, the Kama Sutra created the blueprint that every romance novel still follows today: stories where love is both a spiritual and physical journey that transforms lives.

So yes, while any romance novel will have its own special masala blend, those romance stories that prominently feature South and Southeast Asian characters, culture, and language, should rightfully receive their own recognition and elevation as belonging to the Masala Romance subgenre.

An Invitation to Dream

If you've read this far, you're part of something special. You're helping to create space for stories that center cultural authenticity while striving for the fantastical. You're supporting the idea that love stories can tackle big themes without sacrificing the knee-weakening romance we all crave and deserve. Whether you're here for the fantasy worldbuilding, the steamy romance, the cultural representation, or just because you love seeing South Asian characters as heroes instead of sidekicks, welcome to the Masala Romance family.

In my next newsletter, I’ll introduce you to my Masala Romance story — a romantasy, to be precise. I’ll share how I got my idea, some tidbits about the worldbuilding and magic system, and behind-the-scenes research (my search history is unhinged).

The universe is vast, love transcends worlds, and our best stories are still being written. Wishing you fire, salt, and magic.

Sandhya

Want more masala romance? Follow me on Instagram [@ssjp_writes] for behind-the-scenes writing updates. And don't forget to share this newsletter with anyone who needs more diversity and romance in their reading life!

The Spice Trade and Colonization of South Asia: A Very Brief Historical Overview

1. Indigenous Maritime Mastery (1500 BC - 1000 AD) Centuries before European contact, Austronesian and South Asian peoples had already established sophisticated trade networks across the Indian Ocean, demonstrating advanced maritime expertise and diplomatic relationships.

2. Arab and Asian Intermediaries (8th-15th centuries) For nearly a millennium, Arab, Indian, and Chinese traders controlled the spice trade, creating prosperous commercial hubs while allowing spice-producing regions to maintain their autonomy and cultural integrity.

3. European Intrusion and the "Age of Exploration" (15th-16th centuries) European powers, seeking to bypass established intermediaries and maximize profits, began violently disrupting centuries-old trade networks, with Vasco da Gama's 1498 arrival in India marking the start of systematic European interference.

4. Dutch East India Company Monopolization (1602-1799) The Dutch VOC established ruthless monopolies over key spices, systematically destroying crops and massacring entire populations—including the devastating 1621 Banda Islands genocide—to maintain artificial scarcity and astronomical profits.

5. British East India Company's Expansion (1600-1858) What began as commercial spice trading evolved into territorial conquest, as the British East India Company used private armies and political manipulation to transform business relationships into colonial rule.

6. Systematic Resource Extraction Colonial administrators restructured entire regional economies to serve European markets, forcing subsistence farmers to abandon food production for cash crops, creating widespread famine while enriching distant shareholders.

7. Destruction of Indigenous Political Systems European colonizers systematically dismantled functioning kingdoms and local governance structures that had managed spice production for centuries, either eliminating traditional leaders or reducing them to powerless symbols.

8. Cultural and Knowledge Suppression Colonial authorities deliberately undermined indigenous expertise in spice cultivation and processing, appropriating local knowledge while ensuring its originators received no recognition or compensation.

9. Racialized Hierarchies and Labor Exploitation Spice plantations operated on enslaved and indentured labor systems that created lasting racial hierarchies, positioning Europeans as natural rulers while relegating South Asians to exploited manual labor.

10. Post-Colonial Economic Dependence Despite political independence, former colonies remain economically subordinated to Western corporations that control spice processing and global distribution, while local farmers receive minimal compensation for their labor.

11. Cultural Appropriation in Contemporary Markets Modern Western companies profit from marketing "exotic" spice blends while erasing their cultural origins and significance, with terms like "curry powder" homogenizing diverse regional culinary traditions.

12. Romanticization of Colonial Violence Contemporary popular culture portray South Asian cultures as mysterious rather than sophisticated, perpetuating orientalist stereotypes that romanticize the colonial period while ignoring its genocidal reality.
    

As you know, the reason why my newsletter is called Jain of All Trades, is not only a pun on the saying that uses a male moniker (“jack of all trades”) but also because I have a rather broad background and have held so many different types of roles.

From being a bench scientist to a fine arts conservator and research scientist, to being a world-renowned specialist in the art market, an executive director at a private arts space, and a DEI leader, the throughline has always been shining a spotlight on South Asian arts and culture, and elevating it to its rightful place on equal footing with all the great cultures of the world.

Which is why I am pivoting professionally, yet again.

Pivot #1: How it started…

Like many first-generation folks of South Asian descent, my path began as a would-be medical student, where the scientific method became ingrained in my mind. While conducting experiments in lab courses and gaining work experience in a pharma lab, I learned to cultivate critical thinking, ask probing questions, test solutions, and make informed decisions. These skills became my foundation for everything that followed.

Well thank goodness my college had a humanities requirement. While I was on my misguided path to medical school, I took an art history class — and I was hooked. And when Dr. Catherine Puglisi showed us an X-ray of Caravaggio's "Martyrdom of St. Matthew" (yes, you can X-ray paintings!) I pivoted completely. As soon as I got my Masters in Science, I entered NYU to study art history and fine arts conservation. Yes… I got three Masters’ degrees back to back. #InsaneInTheMembrane

When I finally finished grad schools, my first job was at Christie's auction house. There, for nearly 15 years, I honed my expertise in South and Southeast Asian art and culture. I was even hired to be a cultural consultant on a few Hollywood movies — and developed a knack for telling stories of historically marginalized communities with cultural authenticity and sensitivity. The most important lesson I learned was that the relationship is everything—how to form trusted bonds by speaking with honesty, even when the truth isn't what people want to hear.

After leaving Christie’s, I became the inaugural executive director for Wrightwood 659, a not-for-profit arts space in Chicago. I learned I had a natural talent for cultivating public interest and support for the arts, creating spaces where art could spark conversation and change. After setting them up for success, I returned to NYC full-time — just in time for the pandemic.

As with everyone, the pandemic became a time for me to interrogate my wants, needs, dreams, and passions. I loved art and culture, but what I really loved was telling stories from the subject’s point of view. And with everything that was happening at that time, I decided to pivot into DEI, building on trusted relationships to give everyone space to be seen and heard. This work emerged naturally from my lived experience as a "one-and-only" in predominantly white spaces throughout my career.

Pivot #2: Why DEI Became My Heart Work

As I shared on Lydia Fenet's "Claim Your Confidence" podcast, growing up as the only Indian girl in my school system until age 15 shaped everything. My parents, immigrants from India in the late '70s, taught me to be "as white adjacent as possible" because being Indian wasn't considered an asset then (or maybe even now?).

DEI work made me realize I wasn't crazy for feeling all the things I felt when people were rude to me or made microaggressions against me. I wasn't alone in deserving to be treated better. I could help others by being an ally while also finding community for myself.

I've been fortunate to work both at my dream job at Lucasfilm, and as a consultant for projects I truly care about. But this heart work was already hard work before the backlash, and I need to fill my vessel and find joy in my work again. I still lead with inclusion. I still believe in equity. Not because they're buzzwords, but because they reflect how I have and always will move through the world.

Pivot #3: Art Advisory & Appraisals

I’m excited to announce that I have pivoted to private art appraisals and advisory services — a natural progression that ties all my experiences together. This latest reinvention is a more balanced manifestation of my personal ikigai, allowing me to offer my expertise while maintaining space for myself and my family.

Over this year so far, I have worked hard to become accredited by the Appraisers Association of America to provide art appraisals in the following areas:

• Postwar through Emerging Art

• South Asian Modern + Contemporary Art

• Indian, Himalayan, and Southeast Asian Art (certified specialty)

Beyond appraisals, I'm passionate about supporting clients in the care and management of their collections—helping them navigate acquisitions, conservation, estate planning, and the meaningful stewardship of cultural objects.

Currently, I'm working on a major donation to a private museum (details to come!), and I have a fun Keith Haring “unboxing” video that I’ll share on my socials. I'm also thrilled to reveal my new website: sandhyajainpatel.com. Please let me know what you think.

Join Me on This Journey

This newsletter, "Jain of All Trades," will continue to chronicle my journey while also including observations on a variety of subjects, from art and culture to the mundane. I promise a unique perspective through my own intersectional lens — that of a first-generation Indo-American woman with nothing held back.

Whether you're here for the art expertise, the career pivots, or hints of the author journey I'll be announcing soon, I'm grateful you're along for the ride.

What reinvention are you contemplating? Hit reply and tell me—I read every response.

Interested in art appraisal or advisory services? Visit sandhyajainpatel.com or simply reply to this email with your questions.

Thanks so much for reading this edition of Jain of All Trades! You can support my writing by:

❤️ Liking this post
💬 Leaving a comment — I respond to every one!
➡️ Sharing or restacking this post so others can find it
😍 Becoming a subscriber and read more stories of reinvention, art world insights, and the courage to actively pivot towards what serves us, and shed what does not.

Wishing you laughter, magic, and salt in your life,
Sandhya

If you enjoy Jain of All Trades, please invite your friends to subscribe. With every friend who subscribes, you will receive benefits that give you special access to Jain of All Trades.

How to participate

1. Share Jain of All Trades. When you use the referral link below, or the “Share” button on any post, you'll get credit for any new subscribers. Simply send the link in a text, email, or share it on social media with friends.

Refer a friend

2. Earn benefits. When more friends use your referral link to subscribe (free or paid), you’ll receive special benefits.

• Get a 1 month comp for 3 referrals

• Get a 3 month comp for 5 referrals

• Get a 6 month comp for 25 referrals

Visit the leaderboard

To learn more, check out Substack’s FAQ.

Thank you for helping get the word out about Jain of All Trades!

Peace, love, and masala,

Sandhya