Creative
Writing




    How do you wrangle a tongue accustomed to dehumanise, a language where Chinese-American was long since synonymous with ugliness, disease, and opium? 

“My soul frets in the shadow of his language,” Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. 


   English is an overwhelming language, one of consumption and possession. To transpose a culture is to write over palimpsests of caricatures.

   The moments I feel most Chinese are not amidst harvest festival firecrackers, or at dinner tables filled with five generations of relatives, but in isolation: sitting in a creative writing workshop, or seminar classroom, adding correctional footnotes out of some larger obligation, trying to catch lingering Orientalisms like grains of falling sand. I perform as the mouthpiece for a culture I grew up looking in on. Betwixt and between, in a state of diasporic limbo—the children of immigrants are a generation of ghosts.

“Languages do not merely serve to describe the world but in fact help to create that world, establishing both a set of possibilities and a set of limits.”
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, “Whose Language?”

Excerpt from “The Shaman”

 



INDEX
Click titles to navigate

Fiction
  1. The Shaman
  2. Bedtime Stories

Poetry
  1. Funeral Prayer in Fujian Province

Creative Non-fiction & Commentaries
  1. Madonnas, Whores, & the Male Appetite
  2. The Orphan With a Thousand Faces
  3. Great Expectations, False Meritocracies, & the American Dream
  4. Patchworks of Pre-Existence, or the Reanimation of Literary Corpora
  5. The Masses, April 1913 - Editorial Collection