Even though his latest novel is titled How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia, Mohsin Hamid is no Warren Buffet of the East; his book isn’t really going to help you get filthy rich.
In this picaresque, the strong voice—funny, heart-warming, honest and supremely witty, even as it deals with often disturbing events of abuse, sexuality, abortion and religion in Catholic Ireland—is the star of the show.
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.
Bryson, undoubtedly a talented raconteur, maneuvers a subject so scholarly with such wit and wonder that you feel like you’re on the listening end of a most riveting history lesson.
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.
For Katherine Pancol, the author of the 2006 best selling French novel The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles, everything is a story. Or has the potential to be one.
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?"
When I ask Zia Haider Rahman just how similar he is to Zafar, the protagonist of his debut novel, In the Light of What We Know, he mockingly hesitates and answers, “67.5%.”