Supriya Bhatnagar’s and then there were three… is a collection of personal essays about a family rebuilding its life after early tragedy. Set in a ten-year time period of the author’s life, the book begins with the death of the only man in her life, her father, when she was ten, and ends with the entry of the next man in her life, her husband. The accounts of life are both particular and universal—the joys and the sorrows of being raised in a family headed by a single mother bringing up two girls in the male-dominated 1970s India.
Supriya Bhatnagar is Director of Publications for The Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP). Her MFA in Nonfiction is from George Mason University. She has published a short story in Femina, a leading English magazine in India, and “Color,” a chapter from her memoir, And Then There Were Three… in Perigee.
At the core of Supriya Bhatnagar’s important first book is the childhood loss of her beloved father. The author explores the outlines of grief by embarking on a journey – both geographical and emotional – which takes the reader from Bombay to Jaipur to the United States while, at the same time, suffusing this international country of memory with great tenderness, as childhood longing becomes adult yearning. In this lyrical, beautifully structured, and deeply textured memoir, Bhatnagar erases the boundaries between life and art.
—Sue William Silverman, author of Fearless Confessions: A Writer’s Guide to Memoir
Supriya Bhatnagar’s elegant memoir chronicles a family’s sorrow over the early loss of a husband and father, and follows those—young and old—forced to re-imagine and remake their lives and futures. Bhatnagar is at her best when portraying the memorable women in her family and the love and loyalty they share. This is a poignant, beautifully rendered story, full of gem-like detail.
—Dinty W. Moore, author of Between Panic and Desire
Supriya Bhatnagar has written a warm, very moving memoir of family life and the ongoing need for ritual, awareness, and love, both given and received.
—Beverly Lowry, author of Harriet Tubman: Imagining a Life
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