It's a Jumble

The year is drawing to its close, and it’s that time when writers make posts about their award eligibilities for the year. I had three pieces published in 2023. I would be honored if you took a look at any of them.   Nonfiction essay “Hungry Ghosts in America, ” published in the anthology Unquiet Spirits: Essays by Asian Women in Horror , edited by Lee Murray and Angela Yuriko Smith.  This is my first published foray into the personal essay form, and in truth it was one of the hardest, most nerve-wracking things I’ve ever written. Still, I am honored to be published alongside this group of brilliant, brilliant women. Unquiet Spirits revolves around myths, monsters, and spirits of Asian culture, and the personal meaning that these spirits have for their contributors. These pieces are fearless, heartbreaking, brilliant, and moving. The final product is gorgeous, and I’m so proud to be part of this unquiet sisterhood Review from   Horror World:   “ Unquiet Spirits  is an int

 I have a new story out today! "Microseasons of the Dead" is live at The Future Fire Magazine, on this last day of October. It's a slightly experimental, dreamy piece inspired by the microseasons of the traditional Japanese calendar, and I'm so glad it's found a good home. 

Some short fiction that I read and loved, from July through September.    “The Sand Knows Its Way Home” by L. Chan at Reckoning Magazine He would have told them that the village of his youth was a small and perfect thing, but what is a small and perfect thing compared to the growing appetite of a nascent mega-city? That appetite was all it took for them to murder a village. This is not the story that the groups come here to listen to, not when they have the sparkling sea before them and the shining city behind.   Cheng Boon once lived in a fishing village on Semakau Island. But Singapore’s government took his village’s land to create a landfill, relocating all the village’s inhabitants to the mainland. Now Cheng Boon gives tours of his former home to students and other curious visitors. One day one of the tourists catches his eye, and Cheng Boon realizes that he has something in common with another man who has lost his home. . . A delicately lovely piece about displacement and

My short fiction recs from late spring/early summer. Tales of horror and magic, beauty and grief, discovery and wonder and strength. “Sasabonsam” by Tara Campbell in Strange Horizons I sit high in the mahogany tree, my long limbs dangling toward the earth. My eyes, if you could see them, would gleam at you in the moonlight. I am alert, but I let my arms swing idly with the breeze. They look just like the vines drooping from the branches, don’t they?   This is an older story, which I only just discovered thanks to a recommendation online. It’s a tale about a sasbonsam—a monster of West African folklore—and its prey. It’s a tale of curling tension and deliciously dark twists. The sasabonsam eats humans and feeds on their regrets. But in the end, who is the predator and who the prey?   “Lullaby for the Unseen” by Nelly Geraldine Garcia-Rosas in Weird Horror Ariel. It is because of him that I have this scar.   He was my classmate. A very thin kid, shorter than me, with g

Very late, but here's a roundup of some stellar stories that I read this past spring. Perfect leisure reading for these long summer days, with a cool drink beside you. “To Kneel at the Altar of Your Bones” by Valo Wing in Haven Speculative She slices open a vein, and out pours star-matter. Liquid and glittering, the iridescent mess drips from her arm into my cupped palms. And, for a moment, there is only this: breathing in duet ( forte ,  agitato ), her brow a slash of determination worthy of sainthood (she’s my religion, yes), and, too, the dumbass acolyte who made a promise they’re no longer sure they can keep (me).   A failed opera singer, a girlfriend who has spent years with her consciousness trapped in a fungal network, and a shared promise to save the world. But what does a promise mean, after so much time apart? This is a gorgeously wild flash story, an epic written in just over a thousand words, a story that’s both playful and passionate: about love, devotion, pro

  Four beautiful books that I read this spring, with reviews.     Exit, Ghost by Jennifer R. Donohue   This is the modern fantasy retelling of Hamlet which I never knew I needed, set on the Jersey Shore with a snarky gender-flipped Hamlet and her dog named Yorick, a vivid cast of characters, and witches and dark magic galore. A deeply atmospheric, immersive story of grief, loss, love, mystery, doubt, and revenge.   Juliet “Jules” Duncan is heiress to a railroad fortune, a recent college graduate, and a witch. When we first meet her, she’s still recovering from the gun attack which killed her father in his own apple orchard, and which left her with a brain injury. She’s reeling from grief, and she’s just conducted a ritual to summon her father’s spirit, who tells her that his murderer is long-time family friend (and his widow’s new fiancé), “Uncle” Hector.   One of the pleasures of this book is seeing how the author translates specific plot points and characters from Ha

  It’s been a busy (and still cold!) spring, and this round-up is later than usual. Nevertheless, here are some stories that I read over January and February—stories strange and dark, warm and hopeful, rich and lovely. Stories of Memories, Dreams, and Nightmares "Flower, Daughter, Soil, Seed"   by Eugenia Triantafyllou in Uncanny Magazine Your great-great-grandmother was a yellow daffodil. Where she was born people called her narcissus. Her many heads blossomed from a loamy opening in the forest on a particularly chill spring day. They rose hungrily, searching for a few precious rays of sunlight. Her stems pushed against each other and against the cold wind.   A flower is born, and dies. But from her death a daughter springs forth, with memories of her mother. This is a gorgeous story of survival, migration, resilience, and change.   And it’s also a story of coming home, of both finding and accepting sweetness and love.   “Tell Me the Meaning of Bees” by Amal Sin