The first time I tried to write The Spoon and the Sea, it fell flat (I was twenty years old). I had the historical thread - Rose, Faisal, Zanzibar, all of it - but no real anchor. The characters lived complicated lives, made big choices, and then just... carried on. There was no emotional payoff, no tension pulling the story toward something meaningful. I kept writing because I loved the idea, but I didn’t know what I was trying to say. Then my grandma died, and the grief hit like a tidal wave. That’s when the second timeline came to life. Suddenly the book had shape, urgency, and a heartbeat. It finally had somewhere to go.
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