Things I loved in February and Looking Ahead
Monthly Digest | February 2024
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Dear Inklings,
It’s been a beast of a month, a test of my personal limits, and a refocus on my priorities. In this post, I recommend three books highlighting the Asian(-American) experience, the one (excellent) film I watched, and an article about how to be a decent human being online. Below the paywall, thoughts on dealing with feelings of inadequacy after rejection and learning to be kinder to myself during battles with mental and chronic illness. I also share news and updates for Melody of Your Heart revisions, the anthology I co-wrote with my late son.
Table of Contents
Reviews
(In which I review everything I consume in 1-2 sentences)
The Ten Thousand Doors of January (Alix E. Harrow). Wow this book enchanted me and reminded me of childhood magic and Narnia and impossible possibilities, broke my heart and then mended it, and was just a cosy read (thank you,
for the recommendation!).Where I Belong: Healing Trauma and Embracing Asian American Identity (Soo Jin Lee and Linda Yoon). If you feel alone in your Asian-American struggles or you want to understand the Asian-American experience better, you need to read this book, as it features personal stories and ways to heal from intergenerational, racial, and personal trauma through the lens of two therapists. Each chapter ends with a journal prompt and/or exercise you can do on your own to work through difficult emotions. An essential book I’m grateful is in the world.
Neverwhere (Neil Gaiman). Another imaginative fantasy book in Gaiman’s unique style, where nothing is as it seems, and people who fall through the cracks find belonging. Overall, I didn’t love this as much as The Ocean at the End of the Lane, but it was still a lovely, whimsical story.
The Storm We Made (Vanessa Chan). An important (and oft forgotten) story about one Malaysian family’s experience during the Japanese Occupation in World War II that ultimately fell short of going as deep as it could have, with cliché phrase like “released the breath she didn’t realise she was holding” and “smile that didn’t reach up to her eyes.” It’s a brutal and devastating part of history—one that must be told—so I still celebrate the success of this book for raising awareness.
Gone Girl (Gillian Flynn). I love a good female villain, and this classic thriller is so very fun and you know, that twist is still one of the best I’ve ever read.
Lifeform Three (Roz Morris). A clean-up robot at a historical-estate-turned-theme-park dreams about riding horses and wonders if there is more to his mundane life. I didn’t enjoy this much, though I appreciate the themes; it reminded me too much of Ishiguro without the poignancy.
Dark Places (Gillian Flynn). I read this in one day, staying up way too late to finish it because I really needed to know the answers to the mysteries, but while it kept my attention, there were too many things that didn’t make enough sense for me to fully enjoy it, as though the author twisted the characters to make them fit the twists rather than the other way around.
Frost Light (Danielle Bullen). DNF. A cosy read centred around a trio of siblings living alone in the woods during winter, I appreciated the description of the forest and the narrator’s attempt to find beauty in winter (my favourite season), but even after I read almost half the book, there didn’t seem to be real plot. I’d return to this in the future, however, when I’m more in the mood for a slow, atmospheric read.
The Collected Schizophrenias (
). What can I say about this book? It’s powerful, moving, and essential—a deeply personal story of Esmé’s experience with mental and chronic illnesses deemed “less appropriate/acceptable” than counterparts like depression or anxiety. Not only do I want to return to this book to study for my own writing craft, but also for the courage it takes for an Asian-American to share vulnerably about topics that are still very taboo in our culture. Simply amazing.
American Fiction (Cord Jefferson). A highly intellectual professor publishes novels that don’t sell well decides to write an outrageously stereotypical “Black” book to make fun of the kind of books that the masses and critics consider “good literature” as a joke—which then catapults him into fame and success. Funny cultural criticism that is full of heart; who’d’ve thunk? I enjoyed this.
Some Might Have Called The Roses Garish (
). Jeannine’s newsletter has become one of my favourites to read. It’s one of those I get excited about when I see it pop up in my inbox, get cosy with my coffee, and read every word. This one made me feel the full range of emotions and I’ve returned to read it again and again.An Ode to Acknowledgements (Sarah Wheeler). I usually read the acknowledgements in books, in awe of “the village it takes to publish a book,” as the article says. I could never finish or publish a thing without the many people who encourage and believe in me.
Being a Full-Time Writer is the Worst Job (
). And yet, I can’t imagine doing anything else. I’m not a full-time writer (yet) but it’s the dream, isn’t it? In spite of how unglamorous the reality is.The Unspoken Grief of When Friendships End (
). There’s an ambiguity to friendships in that there’s no social contract like there is in dating relationships or marriages; this can arguably lead to more profound grief when it ends.). Fascinating thoughts on ghostwriting and the like—whether or not it’s ethical, and why some people get punished for plagiarising and others (e.g. professors, presidents, celebrities) don’t.Social Media Has Made Harassment Acceptable (
). I’ve had my fair share of online trolls and plain, mean people. It’s the unfortunate effect of distance depersonalisation that comes with being online, but it should not be the norm that if you have an online presence (which applies to most people nowadays), you ought to simply get used to harassment.