What Is Your “Home Rice”?
By Monica Bhide | September 23, 2017 |
I grew up eating only one type of rice: white. When I was young, I thought there was only that one type of rice. Of course, as I grew older I learned about white rice and brown rice, but I don’t think I ventured much further than that. Then, at a point in my food writing career, I was honored and delighted to interview author Naomi Duguid, coauthor of Seductions of Rice. As we discussed the rice of my childhood, the white, nutty, aromatic basmati rice, Duguid said something quite insightful: She called it my “home rice.” She said that for many cultures, rice is an anchor point—it provides a sense of place and belonging. “This is the rice you will turn to day in and day out. It is the one you perfect for yourself,” she said.
That stayed with me. I kept thinking of this concept of an anchor point, a narrative that provides comfort and belonging. I began to see the analogy with my writing career: When I began writing, my home rice was the belief that in order to become a successful author, I had to find an agent, publish with a big house, have my name in big magazines and newspapers. That was how I would belong to the writing community. I repeatedly returned to that anchor point no matter what I faced: acceptances, rejections, good stories, bad stories, good reviews, bad reviews. I knew what my anchor point was. No matter how much I disliked the narrative I told myself—the only way to make a name for myself and get validation as a writer was to be with a big publisher—it was my anchor point and I was afraid to let it go.
Then the world became different, and being with a big name publisher wasn’t the golden ticket anymore (at least, not for me). Indie publishing started to become big. It did not, at the time, fit with my theory of home rice.
And then it did.
Because I cook all kinds of rice now. My kids prefer jasmine rice to basmati; I guess that is their home rice. And I adore the taste of green bamboo rice and Himalayan red rice. In fact, I had to think hard about when I last made white basmati rice. (And this says a lot, coming from a food writer who cooks rice most everyday!)
I realized that my old anchor point was not the only possibility; there were many more options and I did not need to be limited by one way to succeed or belong. So I began to experiment with different types of publishing. I discovered a whole new world of publishing and making money and, yes, belonging.
We can either stay comfortable with our old narrative or we can use it as our strength, and say that we know what we love, we know how it works, but now we are going to try something different. It is all about the story we tell ourselves—this is my home rice and this is where I turn for comfort. Or we can say that this is my home rice, it nourished me when I needed it, and now I need to move on.
Times change, our sense of belonging changes. There is great strength in changing with the times, and knowing, deep inside, that we can always change and yet, we will always belong.
Have you found yourself stuck in a pre-conceived idea of what it means to be successful? How have you kicked yourself out of that rut? What did the experience teach you? Please share your stories in comments.
Monica Bhide is an award winning writer, literary coach, poet, storyteller, and educator. As a bestselling fiction and internationally renowned cookbook author, Bhide is known for sharing food, culture, mystery, and love in her writing. Having roots and experience in many places, Bhide inspires readers everywhere with present day stories which transcend cultural, chronological, geographical, economical, and religious borders.
Bhide’s short story collection, The Devil in Us, topped the list on Kindle as a bestseller in its category of Literary Short Fiction. Her memoir, A Life of Spice, was picked by Eat Your Books as one of the top five food memoirs of 2015. Top Chef’s Padma Lakshmi picked Bhide’s Modern Spice (Simon & Schuster, 2009), as one of the “Best Books Ever” for Newsweek in 2009.
A respected writing authority, Bhide appears regularly on NPR and conducts sold-out workshops on writing, food, culture, and scheduled speaking events at prestigious venues as the Smithsonian Institution, Sackler Gallery, Les Dames d’Escoffier, Georgetown University, and Yale University. She has taught all over the world including conferences in London, Dubai, US etc. She has also been the “Writing Coach in Residence” for the annual conference of the Association of Food Journalists.
I’m so excited about rice as an analogy for writing! Yes, I had to switch from “home rice” too for indie publishing, but I’ve also had to rethink my ideas of success. When the Amazon algorithms were working for me, I wasn’t excited by money. I wanted to connect with readers in a meaningful way.
Now, I have readers who love my work, but Amazon has forgotten about me. Gotta keep switching the rice!
P.S. I don’t suppose you have any tips about how to cook rice? Mine is never great. Thanks!
It is always a moving target!! I wish you much success with your work!
I loved the old model of publishing – they will discover you, validate you, and you will become someone – so much, that I gave it to the heroine of my debut novel.
Only she won, is a bestseller, and, due to illness, must stay a pseudonym because the can’t handle the consequences otherwise. All before the book starts.
The novel was a good place to dump some of that angst. Because the world has changed, I’m just enough off the beaten path that I anticipated getting the ‘lovely writing, but not for us’ rejections, and decided not to spend my limited energy that way.
But we can’t always just change. The previous existence has to be acknowledged. The home rice will always have a demon grip, because it comes from when we couldn’t fight back.
So, like everything else, it had to become fodder.
I love your analogy. There was nothing wrong with the home rice; it just isn’t enough any more.
What a terrific insight! Thank you so much for sharing!
Wonderful post! I, too, sought validation through traditional publishing for many years, and reached a certain amount of success – selling my short stories and getting represented by literary agents for my novels, getting my work noticed.
It was never enough, though. Seeking outside validation will always leave you wanting.
At least with self-publishing, we have more options and more control over the presentation & marketing of our work.
My definition of success is now writing what I love, putting it out there, and also using my skills as an editor to help other authors with their work. Does it really matter where the money comes from?
I no longer equate the value of my work with $$$. Excellence in writing has become my guidepost. When I am truly satisfied with the writing, I feel great!
It’s been a while since I switched to brown basmati, but I have never looked back.
I loved your comment about excellence becoming the guidepost! That is so true no matter what path we choose and also gives US control over our work… no matter how it reaches the reader.
Really enjoyed your essay and rice analogy. It also made me hungry! I’ve primarily done work-for-hire and when the money isn’t flowing I have to make myself work on the heart projects hoping they too will be commercially successful. I’m also starting to write more for the Christian market and oy, there’s a lot of “writing for the love of it” mentality. I dunno. I happen to think about fair wages quite often. I find it increases the love. Laugh. So I’m a work-in-progress, shifting my writing priorities, but enjoying this writing life.
I think we are all a work-in-progress!!