Slow Down: A Guest Post by Yosha Gunasekera

Part mystery, part love letter to New York City, this story follows a true crime-obsessed taxi driver who races to clear her name when a rider is found dead in the back seat. Read on for an exclusive essay from author Yosha Gunasekera on writing The Midnight Taxi.

Around 1:00 a.m., after finishing a night court shift representing New Yorkers accused of everything from stealing toothpaste to an unsuccessful murder attempt (allegedly!) I climbed into a yellow cab headed home—tired, wired, and questioning my life choices. As we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, the driver asked me about criminal court and true crime. It was a fleeting but genuine moment of connection between two strangers, the kind that feels increasingly rare in a city where everyone is rushing off to check off the next thing on their to-do list. When I got out of the cab, I couldn’t stop thinking about him and about taxi drivers more broadly: people who know New York better than almost anyone, who carry its stories every day, yet whose own lives often remain unseen.

That curiosity became personal when I met my now-husband, whose father and grandfather both drove cabs in New York City. His grandfather was shot in the head while driving and survived. Hearing that story crystallized, in an unforgettable way, the danger and sacrifice that come with the job. Once I started paying attention, I noticed cab drivers everywhere: waiting at taxi stands late at night, sipping chai, and grabbing quick meals between long shifts. They were keeping the city moving while navigating lives shaped by uncertainty and resilience.

Out of those observations, the character of Siriwathi Perera was born. Siri is a Sri Lankan American taxi driver struggling with grief, responsibility, and the panic of not having her life figured out by age 28. In harder moments of my own life, I’ve seen myself in Siri and I suspect many readers will too: the feeling of doing your best without a roadmap, of keeping it together just enough to make it through the day.

The novel is also deeply shaped by my work as an attorney representing people who have been wrongfully convicted and imprisoned—sometimes for decades—for crimes they didn’t commit. I wanted to explore the injustices of the criminal legal system in a way that feels human and approachable, and even funny. Because in my line of work, if you’re not laughing, you’re crying and I’ve done plenty of both. Above all, I hope the book invites readers to slow down and question their assumptions about guilt, innocence, and the people caught in between.

Releasing my debut novel is profoundly personal. I’m Sri Lankan American, and growing up, I rarely saw characters like me or families like mine on the page. Writing The Midnight Taxi let me put pieces of myself into the story: my culture, my city, the food I love, and the messy, meaningful reality of New York life. I’m honored to share this book with readers, and I hope it leaves them entertained, seen, and maybe a little more curious about the strangers they pass every day.