Long before I ever called myself a writer, I was simply a little girl carrying notebooks wherever I went.​ Inside those pages lived imaginary worlds, unlikely heroes, hidden doorways, and characters trying to figure out where they belonged. I spent countless afternoons wandering through bookstores just to smell the pages, dreaming up adventures, and believing there was something almost magical about finding the perfect book. Looking back, I don't think I was ever becoming a writer. I think I always was one.

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These days, life is beautifully full. I'm incredibly grateful to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, a granddaughter, and a storyteller. But somewhere inside me, the little girl with the notebook still exists, quietly dreaming up new worlds and wondering what might be waiting just beyond the next page.

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I was raised in a close-knit South Indian Christian family where faith wasn't simply something we believed—it was something we lived. My grandparents, in particular, shaped the way I see the world. Their quiet kindness, unwavering faith, and deep love for family continue to find their way into every story I write. If my books have a heartbeat, it probably began with them.

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Some of my favorite memories aren't grand adventures at all. They're the simple moments. Family stories shared around the dinner table. Singing hymns together. Getting wonderfully lost in bookstores. Flipping through magazines on quiet afternoons. Fresh flowers on the table. Baking something sweet in the kitchen. Holding a warm cup of chai between both hands while the world slows down for just a little while. Those ordinary moments taught me that beauty rarely arrives with fanfare. Most often, it quietly waits for us to notice it.

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That's the kind of beauty I hope to capture in my stories. I love books that linger long after the final page. The ones that make us laugh. Bring tears to our eyes. Remind us of home. Encourage us to keep going. And quietly whisper that perhaps there's more wonder in this world than we realized. Whether through fantasy or contemporary fiction, my hope is always the same—to write stories that invite readers to imagine more deeply, love more generously, and discover beauty in both the extraordinary and the everyday.

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The Calling of Elaria has lived quietly in my heart for many years. It grew from questions I couldn't answer, dreams I couldn't quite explain, memories I couldn't let go of, and a lifelong belief that sometimes the greatest journeys begin not by discovering something new, but by remembering what has always been there. Writing it has been one of the greatest joys of my life. And I hope that when readers finally step through its doorway, they find a story that stays with them long after they've closed the book.

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When I'm not writing, you'll probably find me rearranging flowers, redesigning a room, baking in the kitchen, listening to 90s music, curled up with a beautiful novel, or planning my next creative adventure. Because I've come to believe creativity isn't confined to the page. It's woven into the way we gather around a table.

 

The way we celebrate.

The way we care for the people we love.

The way we notice beauty in ordinary days.

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So thank you for spending a little time here. I hope this becomes a place you'll enjoy returning to—a place filled with stories, encouragement, creativity, and quiet moments of wonder. And if one of my stories eventually finds its way onto your bookshelf, I hope it feels less like the end of a journey...and more like the beginning of a friendship.

 

Until our paths cross again,

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C. S. Kalapala