An excerpt from Shobhaa De's new book, 'Seventy and to hell with it'

These days I find myself saying 'no' a lot. I wish I had done that earlier. I wasted far too many valuable hours in situations and with people I loathed only because I was too polite to say, "Sorry! You are not my type. I have absolutely nothing to say to you. We are losing precious time even at this very second as we try to engage. Goodbye!"

Worse, I didn't permit myself to think, "No!" My first reaction was to say yes to plans. And then fret. '"Why the hell did I put my foot into this?" I would ask myself. Sometimes, it was easy to make an excuse and get out. Sometimes, I was stuck. Today, I first say, "No," and then weigh the options. Earlier, I felt people would judge me and say, "What a bitch! Who does she think she is?" Soon, I figured, those sorts of people would say, "What a bitch," regardless! Even if I did turn up and was at my charming best.

These days I get to the point very quickly. If the venue is too far (any event that requires more than thirty minutes of travel time is out), and the people inviting me are not blood relatives, the answer is "Nyet." Ditto for requests to address various social service organisations.

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We should all choose early and choose wisely. I remember with a sense of horror how I used to force myself to eat rubbish at parties 'out of politeness' ("Why hurt the hosts' feelings?"). Today, I generally eat at home before attending dinners. Or decline invitations altogether. I don't accept writing assignments if the topic doesn't interest me -regardless of which editor will feel cheesed off and snubbed. If your heart isn't in something 100 per cent, don't bother. The result will be mediocre.

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That goes for the mistakes I made with some of my books too. I really didn't want to write them! But was talked into it by persuasive publishers more hell-bent on marketing a certain kind of book - and forget what I felt. Cash in while the author is 'hot'. That's how it works worldwide. Writing has always come easily to me. So the effort involved in crafting a story out of approximately 80,000 words, was never a daunting prospect. But here's the thing: Those 80,000 words can go into a book you have enjoyed writing, or a lousy one you have rolled out under duress. I look back at some of my books and think - left to myself, I would have written a different book. I am not saying a better book, nor am I saying a more saleable book. Just a very different book! Publishers know their markets. And they knew what they wanted to do with my early books - flog them as India's breakthrough 'sexy' novels written by a 'bold' woman. Someone who photographed well and was fun to interview. That disgusting tag of 'Jackie Collins of India' stuck! It will follow me to my grave. Nothing wrong with Jackie Collins. But I prefer to be me.

Seventy... and to hell with it by Shobhaa De, Penguin Books; Rs 399.

I enjoyed writing about sex. That is fine, not complaining. The reactions were tedious. Making me more and more determined to raise the sex bar as it were with each successive novel. I tried strictly no sex books too. And focused on chaste non-fiction for years. But no! That tag of being a 'porno writer' (if you please) refused to go away. Hmm, I said to myself tiredly. Damned if I do and damned if I don't. So... why not just bang them out and have fun? I am determined to write even sexier books in future. What will our puritanical 'samaj' say? "Yeh buddhiya badi badmash hai." What fun! That's it? I can handle that. Besides, if you are a buddhiya, better to be badmash than a bore!