Press release from my publisher, Publerati

Publerati Publishing my USA publisher sent out the following press release at the Frankfurt Book event this week. Please read it rather me trying to paraphrase it, but in essence my book Leap Of Faith is being made available to thousands of children in the sub-Sahara regions of Africa and then India as part of the Worldreader charitable initiative. Fantastic news for the children who normally wouldn't have access to books and great news for Leap Of Faith!
Leap Of Faith is available on Amazon on http://www.amazon.co.uk/Temporal-Detective-Agency-Series-ebook/dp/B007XYIFO4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1348950850&sr=8-1

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Press Contact:

Anne Nadeau

info@publerati.com

www.publerati.com

twitter.com/publerati

PUBLERATI EBOOK PUBLISHER SIGNS ON WITH WORLDREADER

Both firms are working to promote global literacy via new e-reading technologies.

Portland, Maine, October 10, 2012—Publerati, the ebook publisher specializing in global fiction, announced at the Frankfurt Book Fair that its ebooks will be available through Worldreader (worldreader.org), a non-profit aiming to boost literacy by providing digital books to children and teachers throughout the developing world.

“The primary purpose of Publerati is to use ebooks as a better way for fiction writers to reach more readers around the world, and to do so in a way similar to museums where some people pay full admission and others get in free,” says Caleb Mason, Founder and Publisher at Publerati.  “Working with Worldreader will help us fulfill our mission of opening access, where those who pay will know that our free ebooks plus no less than 5% of net proceeds are being donated to support Worldreader’s efforts.”

Publerati ebooks will be available on e-readers provided to children and teachers across Sub-saharan Africa as well as on the new Worldreader Book App for mobile phones, allowing millions of people in the developing world to have free access to a selection of Publerati ebooks.

“Worldreader is about books and literacy.  We use new digital platforms to deliver books to people in the developing world who previously had little to no access to reading material of any kind. We now have the technology to make it happen, but we need like-minded publishers like Publerati to supply the content.  We are thrilled to have the support of Publerati and hope that other publishers will follow suit,” said Elizabeth Wood, Director of Digital Publishing for Worldreader.

“Our ebook fiction should have worldwide appeal, and I think in particular the stories of Lakshmi Raj Sharma will be very well-received in India as part of the Worldreader feature phone and free ereader programs,” adds Caleb Mason. “And Richard Hardie’s young adult time-travel series, which transports readers across historically fascinating time periods from Camelot to ancient Rome, will entertain and educate children in Africa and elsewhere.”

About Publerati

Read ebooks. Spread literacy. Publerati is a new concept during the early years of digital change within book publishing, whose purpose is to widen access to high-quality fiction from around the world and to do so in a way that allows more readers to engage with better writing.  Publerati authors come from India, the United States, and Great Britain with more on the way. Publerati only publishes fiction in the tradition of great writing that entertains and enlightens readers. www.publerati.com

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

About Worldreader

Worldreader is a US- and European not-for-profit organization that aims to put a library of digital books within the hands of children across the planet. Founded in 2009, Worldreader works with device manufacturers, local and international publishers, governments, education officials, and local communities to bring books to all. The non-profit has since put more than 200,000 international and local e-books into the hands of 1,000 students in Africa and is committed to continue increasing access to digital books in developing nations. The Worldreader Book Application is currently on over four million mobile phones, primarily in India and sub-Saharan Africa.  In July over 489,000 people read 25 million pages on the Worldreader Book App.  www.worldreader.org

THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 7)

Part 7 of Lakshmi Raj Sharma's short story based in India.

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                                                            THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 7)
    
On an impulse I went in the opposite direction, towards her house. There I discovered an old beggar sitting on a raised surface at her gate. On inquiry I was told that he was waiting for her. I first gave him a rupee, got his blessings and then sat next to him. 
‘Since when have you been coming to this place?’
‘Since the last ten or twelve years.’
‘To the woman who liv

es here?’
‘Yes, to her.’
‘Do you find her like others? I mean, is she quite normal?’
‘As normal as a woman in her circumstances would be.’
‘What is wrong with her circumstances?’
‘Just about everything!’
‘What is her biggest loss?’
‘The loss of a son!’
‘A son?’
‘Yes. Don’t you know? She had a young and handsome son.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He was killed in an accident.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know because I have been passing this way for years and getting alms from the lady of this house. She was shattered by her son’s death and as if that was not enough, the poor thing had to kill her own husband.’
‘Why do you sit here while she is not at home?’
‘I sit here daily at this time. On returning she always gives me something, before entering her house.’
‘Where does she go every day?’
‘She goes to meet her son.’
‘Her son?’
‘Yes, so she says.’
‘But her son is dead, isn’t he?’
‘I believe he is.’
‘Then how does she meet him?’
‘You take me so literally. I mean she goes to meet her son’s soul.’
‘What did you say? You can’t be serious!’
‘I may be wrong. But that is what she once said to me. She normally does not talk to people. She speaks with me because I am a fakir, who has little to do with your world. I too love to communicate with people who have left this world.’
‘What do you mean? Are you making a fool of me?’
‘No. I am serious.’
‘How can I believe all this?’
‘Okay I don’t need to prove myself to you, but since you appear to be a rather genuine human being, I will show you something which will make you see sense in what I say.’
‘What will you show me?’ I asked beginning to feel a little uneasy.
‘This!’ he said, raising his left arm.

I was utterly horrified to see that instead of a human hand he had a snake. Only one of his hands was human, in place of the other there was a snake. I looked at the snake that was a part of the man with feelings that combined revulsion and fear. At first I stood up to go. But then he smiled and said that he was harmless and that his snake had never bitten anyone.

‘But why are you not known all over the world for being so unusual, so extraordinary?’

‘Because I have never been known to show off my hand. I have kept the snake hidden in the sleeve. Those that have seen it accidentally have fallen unconscious or even passed away. I have been extra careful, therefore.’
I began to feel sick with fear and disgust at the hideous looking limb. I made excuse and left. When I looked back, the man was smiling at me. His smile said that he knew I was scared.

THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 6)

Part 6 of Lakshmi Raj Sharma's new short story set in India.

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                                                          THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 6)


On an impulse I went in the opposite direction, towards her house. There I discovered an old beggar sitting on a raised surface at her gate. On inquiry I was told that he was waiting for her. I first gave him a rupee, got his blessings and then sat next to him. 
‘Since when have you been coming to this place?’
‘Since the last ten or t

welve years.’
‘To the woman who lives here?’
‘Yes, to her.’
‘Do you find her like others? I mean, is she quite normal?’
‘As normal as a woman in her circumstances would be.’
‘What is wrong with her circumstances?’
‘Just about everything!’
‘What is her biggest loss?’
‘The loss of a son!’
‘A son?’
‘Yes. Don’t you know? She had a young and handsome son.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘He was killed in an accident.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know because I have been passing this way for years and getting alms from the lady of this house. She was shattered by the event and then the poor thing had to kill her own husband.’
‘Why do you sit here while she is not at home?’
‘I sit here daily at this time. On returning she always gives me something, before entering her house.’
‘Where does she go every day?’
‘She goes to meet her son.’
‘Her son?’
‘Yes, so she says.’

"I MAY BE SOME TIME"

By my reckoning it's been 2 weeks since I posted a meaningful blog, during which time my daily hits have gone down from over 100 to around an average to 10. I'm hoping that means that visitors to my blog site are actually keen on reading my scribblings!

Well, it's been a busy two weeks with my second book to edit (I'm currently on page 152), the new cover to select (pretty well done, thanks to the wonderful Tracey) and the third book of the Temporal Detective Agency to take beyond the point of a full storyboard to a finished project. It's actually at page 70 and going well, but time is in short supply and it's now 9.00pm and I haven't sat down yet. Well, actually I have, but only in the past 5 minutes to write this.

To make matters worse, Dead Ringers is just starting. It may be  Dave repeat, but it's one of the greatest programmes on TV. I wonder what other shows would take over from writing and blogging?
 - Minder repeats
 - Jonathan Creek repeats
 - Have I got News From You repeats
 - QI repeats
 - Dr Who repeats (mostly)
 - Hustle repeats
 - Midsomer Murders
 - Poirot repeats
 - Miss Marple repeats
 - Lewis
 - Morse repeats
 - Inspector George Gently

Really says it all I suppose. The only thing worth watching is repeats and my tastes vary between high-brow quiz shows and quality detective series. Luckily we have Dave and one or two other satellite channels that specialise in popular repeats. It's a shame the main channels don't follow suit instead of pumping out reality shows and soap operas.

Back to editing now that Dead Ringers has finished! I promise I start blogging properly again soon.

Blog on, Dudes!

THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 5)

Part 5 of Lakshmi Raj Sharma's new short story set in India.
Blog on, Dudes!

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                                                                 THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 5) 

I had to find out where she went in the evenings and what she did there. But it was no easy task to get her to speak. She could have been a piece of stone; she was entirely dead to everything around her. But I needed to know things about her and the desire to do that kept me from doing anything else.

Then, one evening I decided I would follow her. I kept at a safe dis

tance so that she would not know. But, surprisingly, she turned back and looked at me. She stood, probably wondering why someone should want to follow her. I was astonished to discover that a woman who never cared to bother about what went on around her could discover that I was trying to follow her, even though I was at such a distance. When she found that I had turned back to return, she resumed her journey. After a few minutes I was there again, trying to follow her in the direction that she had taken. But in spite of my best efforts to find where she was heading, I lost track of her and just could not find her. The next day was much the same story.
I began to feel that though she had severed links with the living world, her ability to detect people pursuing her was unusually high. She could gauge from a very great distance that someone was following her. There was something truly strange about Neela Ghosh. She was not like other living people. She was therefore all the more interesting for my purposes; she would make a great story for my column in the news papers. I always wrote about things that were not easy to come by.

THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 4)

Part four of the new short story by Lakshmi Raj Sharma set in India.

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                                                            THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 4) 

Then I was told that she was the widow of the late Parimal Babu, the factory manager of Darshan Tiles. This information provided me with interest in Darshan Tiles. That very day, I found myself in the New Alipore factory compound trying to discover something about Parimal Babu and his widow. People are generally hesitant to talk about their colleagues to journalists be

cause they can always be blamed for spilling the beans. For days I got no reply from the workers and the executives at the factory. But I was determined that I would continue my effort as I was certain that someday someone would come up and speak to me. Then one day I saw a woman bring in some food for a man who seemed to be her husband. The man was one of the gardeners of the factory compound. He took the food from her and said something to her pointing towards me. The wife looked at me with interest and then came to me. She wanted to tell me something but was not opening up easily. At length she began to speak.
‘We are poor people,’ she said. ‘For a little money we can pass on important information. My son’s school fees have not been paid.’
I knew this was the woman who would help me get my first clues for the big story I was planning. We were soon out of the factory compound and she was telling me everything for a sum of five hundred rupees.
‘Parimal Ghosh was not a good man. He needed women all the time. None of us were safe in his presence. But he had a few that he spent his time with. There is a lady who works here, she sits in that room. Parimal Babu and she had come very close to each other. He would bring costly gifts for her and the two often sat and had their meals meals together. He needed more money than he earned and therefore became more and more corrupt. I once went to his wife some years ago and discovered how unhappy she was. She was much too virtuous for an awful man like him.’
‘What do you know about her?’
‘She had a young son that she lost. Till he was alive she could suffer her husband but after the son was gone she became reckless and killed him’
‘Killed him? Why?’
‘They say she did that in self-defense. It is believed that he had brought this factory woman to his house and wanted his wife out. When she refused to leave her house he picked up a kitchen knife to kill her. But she picked up a metallic vase and hit him on the head and he died.’
‘Then?’
‘She was arrested initially but was released after it was proven that she did everything in self-defense.’
‘Why does she walk every evening in that direction?’
‘I don’t know about that.’

I had to find out where she went in the evenings and what she did there. But it was no easy task to get her to speak. She could have been a piece of stone; she was entirely dead to everything around her. But I needed to know things about her and the desire to do that kept me from doing anything else.

THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 3)

Part three of Lakshmi Raj Sharma's new short story set in India.
Blog on, Dudes!

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                                                        THE STARCHED WOMAN (Part 3) 

Her ancient looking Fiat had the same story to tell. Its paint had given way to rust. She drove children to school in the noisy car with holes in its rare end. The mudguard hung loosely from one point and the faded number plate suggested that the car was normally not used after the wee hours of the morning when she could be stopped and fined by prying inspectors. Only 

three or four children went to school with her whose parents could bring them back on their own in the afternoons. These children were small enough not to get scared by her manner. The older ones knew that she wasn’t the right person to be with; her scary silence disturbed them. In the evenings, around sunset, she walked alone always going in one direction and then returning after an hour or so. Some had seen her enter a little wooded patch which housed a mazaar in which someone lay buried for centuries. It was said she sat there trying to comb through ions of time. Neela Ghosh was indeed unsocial. She kept company with the departed, having lost interest in those alive.
If you once develop interest in the world of the dead, then you can get so engrossed in it that then the living world fades into insignificance. Neela was a good example of this. When she married Parimal Ghosh she was still a woman of the world, with interest in everyone who lived and died but something happened at some point in her life which made her indifferent to the living. When I came here as a journalist, in the southern part of Kolkata, I couldn’t help noticing the unique existence of Neela Ghosh. I had begun to wait daily in my Alipore flat balcony to see her pass from there and at times even tried to follow her for some distance. I once tried to stop her to interview her but she walked on looking quite through me as though she had not heard or seen me. She just wouldn’t allow you to interrogate her. She had hardened both from inside and externally. Her face seemed to be made of an off-white wax. Her hair was much like a grey nylon wig that was not properly combed.
Then I was told that she was the widow of the late Parimal Babu, the factory manager of Darshan Tiles. This information provided me with interest in Darshan Tiles. That very day, I found myself in the New Alipore factory campus trying to discover something about Parimal Babu and his widow. People are generally hesitant to talk about their colleagues to journalists because they can always be blamed for spilling the beans. For days I got no reply from the workers and the executives at the factory. But I was determined that I would continue my effort as I was certain that someday someone would come up and speak to me. Then one day I saw a woman bring in some food for a man who seemed to be her husband. The man was one of the gardeners of the factory compound. He took the food from her and said something to her pointing towards me. The wife looked at me with interest and then came to me. She wanted to tell me something but was not opening up easily. At length she began to speak.
‘We are poor people,’ she said at length. ‘For a little money we can pass on important information. My son’s school fees have not been paid.’
I knew this was the woman who would help me get my first clues for the big story I was planning.