In 2018, I restart the regular intense, word dribble that one calls National November Writing Month. In the month of November, we write 50,000 words on a brand new novel project – I recall completing the challenge a few years back, but the result was on a project that I now deem unpublishable quality.
But this book? This one is close to my heart, representing all the issues a younger version of myself was afraid of diluting or misrepresenting, but the older version recognises this as just part of the process. Follow five Bangladeshi-Australian girls through a journey of self-discovery, recovery from trauma, and ultimately, a story of sisterhood.
Here is the synopsis:
In a sharehouse of four strangers, there are secrets in every room.
Sufia Akhter didn’t lose her voice, but her courage to love. They have somehow become the same thing.
Ridhi Begum comes home only at the dead of night and leaves before dawn. To hardly breathe leaves no opportunity to reconsider the purpose of her life: vengeance.
Jameela Chowdhury paints her lips red to draw attention away from the redness of her hands.
Imaan Khan’s violent past has unexpectedly returned… and knocks softly on her door three times before kicking it down.
But when the spirited Leila Malik takes the fifth room, the disjointed rooms connect. They become a house first, and then a home. And so the confrontation of the skeletons that live in their closet – and the most memorable year of their lives – begins.