I hold a Masters in Journalism from New York University. I've written for major media outlets and worked with Fortune 500 brands.
When food truck revolutionary and culinary rock star Roy Choi was 24, his mom went to see a fortune-teller. “Don't worry about your son,” the seer told her, “because he is going to be surrounded by people in a parking lot, in a party, always. Whether or not his mom believed the fortune-teller at the time, the vision came true: In 2009, Choi, 38 and then out of work, launched the KogiBBQ food truck with a former co-worker and set in motion the food truck revolution that’s swept across the country.
When I call Anton DiSclafani, I almost expect her to answer in a frail, quivering, 90-year-old voice, though I know it would be absurd if she did. DiSclafani’s picture on the back cover of her debut novel, The Yonahlossee Riding Camp for Girls, clearly shows a 30-something with a mop of thick black hair, a wide smile, and not a wrinkle in sight. But I’m convinced that really, she’s an old soul beneath that young façade.
It's hard to believe the stories in Good Indian Girls come from the mind of soft-spoken Ranbir Singh Sidhu—stories that are wildly imaginative and remarkably sordid, disturbing at their best, eccentric at their tamest and deeply intriguing all throughout.
When Haroon Ullah was a student at Harvard University's John F. Kennedy School of Government, way back in 2000, his research-paper presentation on India-Pakistan left his professor puzzled. "Why," his professor asked, "would you study such a small, relatively unimportant region?"