in conversation with uma krishnaswami
'The Sunshine Project' is a triumphant finale to the bestselling Book Uncle trilogy
Uma Krishnaswami and I began corresponding in 2003 when there were only a handful of South Asian-origin writers writing for children — among them Rukhsana Khan, the late Rachna Gilmore, Jamila Gavin, and Tanuja Desai Hidier. “Now Chitra Divakaruni has two children’s books out; the only other writer I know of is Mitali Perkins… she had a book out in the 80s, then nothing for a long time and has just begun publishing again,” Uma wrote at the time.1
Diversity trends in publishing have come and gone and, through it all, Uma has since been a source of practical advice, critique, and inspiration. We commiserate career ups and downs. We amplify each others’ work. And now — thankfully, finally — we sit in community with many, many, many more South Asian writers for children from a variety of national, linguistic, cultural, and religious backgrounds.
I consider Uma a pioneer, a mentor, an akka, and I know that many of my peers would agree.
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In 2011, Uma was awarded the Scholastic Asian Book Award from Scholastic Asia and the Singapore Book Council for her manuscript Book Uncle and Me, a story about community activism, friendship, and the love of books. “I had submitted the manuscript to editors in the U.S. and it got rejected,” she said. “[Editors] felt it was agenda-driven or questioned whether children would be interested in the intersection between books and politics. When the competition came up, I thought, ‘What the heck? I’ll send it.’ And, to my great surprise, it won!”
I lived in Singapore at the time, and I was honored to receive the award on Uma’s behalf:

Book Uncle and Me was published by Scholastic India in 2012, and then by Groundwood Books for the Canadian and American markets in 2016. The series’ second book, Birds on the Brain, which features bird lover Reeni and her quest to save her city’s bird count event when the mayor tries to shut it down, was published by Groundwood in 2024. In the final book in the Book Uncle trilogy, The Sunshine Project — to be published by Groundwood on August 5 — Anil faces a dilemma when the city decides to build a solar panel factory on the site of a mangrove forest. “I had no intention of writing a trilogy,” Uma said. “I feel grateful for the inspirations that landed in my lap with writing these books.”
To celebrate The Sunshine Project, I spoke with Uma about character, craft, community, and closure. Our conversation has been edited for clarity and length.
Can you walk us through the publication of Birds on the Brain and The Sunshine Project? How did the second and third books come to be?
When we were in lockdown, during a virtual event with elementary school children, someone asked if there was going to be a sequel to Book Uncle and Me. I offhandedly said, “I don’t know; should there be?” A discussion broke out; it was very animated. People agreed that there should not only be a sequel, but three books because Book Uncle and Me had three characters. 
I was looking for something joyful to write, so I started drafting Birds on the Brain. I’ve never had a book write itself; it’s always been toil. Not to say that this wasn’t work, but a skinny draft poured out of me. Maybe it was the circumstances. I was able to write completely uninterrupted because nothing else was getting in my way. I pitched both sequels to Groundwood Books on the strength of the first three chapters and an outline. 
What were the challenges in writing the first sequel especially after years many away from the initial book? How was the creative process of crafting The Sunshine Project different from Birds on the Brain?
To write Birds on the Brain, I went back and reread Book Uncle and Me the way a reader would because I had had so much distance from it. 
I thought I knew these characters well. What surprised me was that I didn’t know much about their families. In writing both sequels, I was forced to dig a little deeper. By showing Reeni’s interactions with her family, I felt I was better able to bring her forthrightness and her sense of drama to the fore.
Anil was more of a challenge. He’s quieter. He gestures a lot. He’s into karate. He expresses his feelings through his karate moves. It was harder to figure out who he was. Anil’s bully came onto the page very unexpectedly. I also needed to tie up loose ends because it was the final book in the trilogy. As a result, The Sunshine Project was more complicated to work through.
Each book is narrated by a different character. What informed their unique voices and do you have a favorite character to write?
I was the kid who would’ve liked to be on stage, but never had the confidence to. I never wanted to be so public, but liked the drama and story behind [the curtain]. I worked hard to inhabit these characters to figure out who they are and what makes them tick. I wrote a lot of notes — sometimes the same passage, over and over in multiple colors, to spot that one line that told me something about the character that I hadn’t thought about before.
I worked hard on making [the narrators’] voices distinct. There were places where I had used turns of phrase that seemed to be more one character than the other. My editor at Groundwood was helpful in finding those passages of dialogue that sounded too much alike.
[For Anil], I watched a lot of karate videos. I practiced poses — it was clearly a pale effort at imitating any of it, but it got me physically grounded a little bit. In writing the young boy’s voice, I worked at making sure that I was neither stereotyping nor overreaching in trying to not stereotype.
Of the three friends, I think Reeni’s my favorite. In terms of the secondary characters, my clear favorite is the istri lady. She’s so savvy and aware and well-connected. She knows everybody and yet operates from this place of relative powerlessness. She doesn’t let it stop her. She builds community in a way that I’ve seen women do on the street in Chennai. She was fun to write.
Yasmin, Reeni and Anil are of different faiths — Muslim, Syrian Christian and Hindu, respectively — and you’ve said this is intentional. Can you speak more to that choice?
I grew up in an India that was diverse and socially interconnected. I had Christian friends and Muslim friends and Hindu friends and Sikh friends. Our differences didn’t get in the way of our interactions. It’s a social setup that is not at all common, so I was lucky to have experienced it. Now, people live in separate bubbles. It’s shocking to me and so I wanted to write against that. The only way I know of how to fix the world is to write about the world that I want children to live in. 
What hopes do you have for young readers for this final book in particular?
Children don’t get to make the big decisions of the world, but they’ll inherit those big decisions and will be living with the effects of them for their lives. We don’t have to tell kids to wake up; they’re already awake. They have a keen sense of justice. They resent it deeply when you are unfair to them. Children don’t vote, but they do have opinions, and they ought to pay attention to what’s going on in communities around them. If they can at all, they ought to use their voices.
What’s next for you? Do you think you are done with writing about activist kids in an imaginary South Indian city or is there more you still want to explore?
I have a picture book under contract titled Mango Sun (Caitlyn Dlouhy Books/Atheneum). It’s about a family of children whose parents grow mangoes and how shifts in climate affect their relationship with one special tree. As for the Book Uncle trilogy, I feel as if I’m done with these three for now, but we'll see what happens. 
If you have the means, pre-order Uma’s book via the usual online channels or from your local independent bookstore. You can also ask your public library to purchase a copy.
A conversation among Uma, Rukhsana, Rachna, Jamila, and Tanuja can be found online (institutional login required) at Krishnaswami, Uma, 2004. “On the Seashore of Worlds: Selected South Asian Voices from North America and the United Kingdom,” Bookbird 42 (2): 23-30. https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/on-seashore-worlds-selected-south-asian-voices/docview/216101031/se-2.
