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In the style of The Toast’s “If [So-and-So] Were Your Boyfriend/Girlfriend” articles, this one is for Wendy Xu​. Thank you, Wendy, for your beautiful pigeon creation, Terry Shin.

IF TERRY SHIN WERE YOUR BOYFRIEND.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would be the best boyfriend ever, period. In fact, you would never, ever have had a more thoughtful boyfriend than Terry Shin! The pigeon head would be hard to ignore, but in time, you would come to love it as much as any part of his beautiful musculature and well-sculpted arms.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, you would come home to find all of his laundry folded neatly on the bed, in perfectly even stacks of muscle tees and neon shorts. He would fold your laundry, too, because he’s thoughtful like that.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would definitely subscribe to Blue Apron or one of those grocery delivery boxes. He would want to cook for you! In fact, he would insist on it. And if he made a mess in the kitchen or ruined the dinner, well, you two could always order pizza with extra pepperoni.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, you would go on ice cream dates every other weekend. The people working there on Saturdays would have your orders memorized, and they would tease you gently about how lovey-dovey you two look. You would order lychee sorbet, and Terry would order toasted sesame ice cream, and you two would share bites on a park bench just around the corner.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, those moments would remind you of the first time he asked you on a date. That time, many months ago, you were applying for a new job at a bookstore in your neighborhood, and a well-built man with a pigeon head asked if you wanted to get coffee after you left. You didn’t get the job, but you did get Terry Shin.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would never forget your birthday, or your anniversary, or any other important holiday. You don’t remember pigeons having great memories, but Terry’s would be laser sharp, and he would always bring you flowers to celebrate those important days.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would slowly move into your apartment. First, his contact lens solution and an extra case. Then his toothbrush, which he’d still use out of habit. Slowly, he’d take over doing chores, and soon you two would achieve a quiet, beautiful domestic harmony.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, you would find feathers in the bathtub drain cover. Lots of feathers. But you would never fight about it, because Terry would always apologize and clean them up.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would clean the rest of the bathroom, too.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would bake you cakes and brownies to cheer you up whenever you were sad. You would never have the heart to tell him if his pastries were burned, because he would be so excited about them. But that eagerness, you’d decide, was part of his charm.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would invite you to work out with him. He would spot you on all of your weight exercises, and you would admire the way his muscles rippled beneath his pigeon head whenever he moved. Also, he’d always bring enough sports drinks or protein shakes for two.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, you wouldn’t feed any pigeons at the park because you already had one at home to feed. You might sneak them a few crackers now and then, though, even if it made Terry jealous.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would eye your bubble tea enviously every time you ordered it. But he wouldn’t complain. After all, it isn’t your fault that beaks and straws are incompatible.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, it probably wouldn’t be your fault that he was a half-pigeon, half-human monstrosity. Probably.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t remember that once, many months ago, he barged rudely into the shop where you worked part time and knocked all of the books you were holding out of your arms.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he definitely wouldn’t remember how he ignored you that day and didn’t help you pick up those books, and how he stepped on several manuscripts that were very important to you. He wouldn’t remember that he and his friends almost got you fired because of it.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would never know that, in that moment, full of rage and shame and hurt, you cast the worst curse you knew on him, and his life, from that moment on, would never, ever be the same.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t remember life before being a half-pigeon, half-human monstrosity. He wouldn’t remember ever having hair instead of feathers, or lips instead of a beak. He wouldn’t remember his struggles to fit in with the rest of his frat, or how he wished he was like everyone else around him. Instead, like Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, he would carry on blissfully unaware that anything was, or could have been, different.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, he would love you unconditionally.

If Terry Shin were your boyfriend, the guilt might drive you mad.

By Cindy Pon

As a writer, I always feel like my second books are stronger than my first. My stories naturally seem to be told in duologies, and with the sequel, it might be that I’m more comfortable with the characters, their motivations, and worlds. As someone who does not outline, my process is pretty intuitive. I knew that Sacrifice would be told from dual narrations (as Fury of the Phoenix was told): Skybright’s and Zhen Ni’s. It wasn’t until I finished the first draft that I realized that I needed to include Kai Sen as a main point of view. This allowed me to expand the lens into this world, and I enjoyed it as much as it challenged me as a writer. I love this story, and I’m so happy it’s finally out in the world! I share an excerpt from Sacrifice below and ordering information for personalized and/or signed copies with pre-order gift!

Excerpt:

Someone opened the panel of her room quietly. “Zhen Ni?” a male voice whispered.

           She smothered a scream. No man had ever been within her bedchamber, except for the doctor on rare occasions, and even then, she had been hidden behind silk drapes on her bed,  offering her arm so the man could examine her pulse. No common man had ever been allowed within the inner quarters, unchaperoned much less, and in the dead of night. Blood pounded in her ears, and Zhen Ni gripped her dagger tighter, prepared to use it if she had to.

           “It’s me. Kai Sen.”

           Recognition dawned. She had thought the voice sounded familiar, but she hadn’t seen Kai Sen since they parted ways over half a year ago, after he had escorted her home from visiting Lan one last time. What in the goddess’s name was he doing here, breaking all rules of decorum? Her reputation could be compromised if he were caught.

           Zhen Ni smiled in the dark then. It was a wonder anyone would take her as a wife at all. She was notoriously known as a stubborn runaway and truly didn’t give a donkey’s ass about decorum now, but she had behaved perfectly to please her parents since returning home. She held still in her dark corner, waiting to see what Kai Sen would do.

           A bright flame ignited within the bedchamber. She squinted, thinking he had lit a lantern, but it appeared as if he cradled a ball of blue fire in his very palm. Astounded, Zhen Ni stared as Kai Sen drew to her empty bedside, peering down at the rumpled coverlet, then turned to survey the room.

           Dressed in a black sleeveless tunic, he seemed taller than she remembered and definitely bigger. Kai Sen had been all wiry muscle when they had traveled together but thin, still boyish in some ways. His time in the monastery since had filled his frame, as if he’d finally grown into his adult physique. He had looked strong before; now he looked powerful. She watched while the flickering flame danced across his face. Kai Sen’s dark eyebrows were knitted together as his alert eyes swept the large bedchamber. Zhen Ni could see why Skybright had been drawn to him—he was handsome. He exuded masculinity. Assuming a girl appreciated that sort of thing: rough hands and deep voice, the odd metallic tang of sweat. She knew from their travels together that he even smelled different.

           Zhen Ni wasn’t attracted to these things.

           For a brief moment, she remembered the soft curve of Lan’s neck bent over her embroidery, smelled the rose perfume she used to dab at the hollow of Lan’s throat, the scent sweet and mellow when she would kiss the same spot hours later … Zhen Ni blinked the memories away and whispered, “What are you doing here?”    

Buy the Book:

Order from Mysterious Galaxy Books to get signed and personalized copies of Serpentine or Sacrifice, and choose a pre-order gift of your choice! Grace Fong’s gorgeous art of my girls Zhen Ni and Skybright magnet, or my hummingbird Chinese brush art card. You receive a gift for every book purchased AND you’re supporting my favorite indie book store!

[Zhen Ni and Skybright by Grace Fong]

Calling Black Critics by Niall Harrison of Strange Horizons

This is why I always advise new writers to make sure they are grounded in the literary community of their region (or culture), so that they can listen first and foremost to the reviewers and academics who have the necessary background to adequately critique their work.

The number of times (all around, not just my work) I have seen a critic confuse ‘this is beyond my experience’ with ‘the author is wrong and incompetent’! A good critic has the skill to apply what they know, and the humility to recognise what they don’t know.

[spoilery commentary below on The Best of All Possible Worlds]

さらに読む

Pema Chödrön, “Start Where You Are” from “When Things Fall Apart” (via maninsun)

this.