Writer of the Month: Alis Sandosharaj/ "Natural Born Drivers"
The Inner Loop May reading brought a group of fresh, funny and poignant voices to the breezy back patio of Colony Club. Our Writer of the Month is A. Sandosharaj, whose essay "Natural Born Drivers" reflects on the experience of immigrant families and the often painful details of "otherness" in America, from roadside assistance to the Disney dress code. With dry wit and an eye for the absurd detail, A. Sandosharaj wowed the audience--and we think you'll agree. You can read her piece, which is published in The Rumpus, here.
About A. Sandosharaj:
A. Sandosharaj's work has appeared in The Millions, The Rumpus, Fourth Genre, Southeast Review, Massachusetts Review, American Literary Review, Crab Orchard Review, Subcontinental, River Teeth, River City, Alligator Juniper, Racialicious, and Fiction is First. She is an associate editor at Baltimore Review and a peer referee at Words, Beats and Life. She has an MFA from The Ohio State University and a PhD from University of Maryland. She currently teaches writing at Georgetown University.
You can read more about Alis in Northern Virginia's Passenger magazine. Each month, the talented folks at Passenger interview our Writers of the Month about the challenges of balancing professional and creative lives. So after you read this month's selection, scoot on over to Passenger's The Writer's Life to read Alis's interview.
from "Natural Born Drivers"
We vacationed by car, mainly because it was cheap and private and we were poor and strange, but also because we each loved driving. After five grueling attempts even my mother acquired her driver’s license, the first amongst all the Indian aunties, some of whom never got theirs, spending their American days being chauffeured by grumbling relatives. After obtaining her license my mother promptly began getting into accidents, though she never damaged anyone else’s property. She eventually totaled four cars by diving into a ravine, crashing into two of our other cars, and flipping over a road island...
You can finish the essay here at The Rumpus.