Saturday, June 13, 2026

I did a thing.

I purchased the domain name for an adoptee literary magazine.

I've had this vision in my head for a few years, but negativity was getting its way. It's too much work. How will I find editors, artists, and make connections? I don't have a huge social media presence. How will I gain visibility? Maybe I'll just write my novel, get it out there, and keep my writing career in the confines of my own fiction and poetry.

Nope. The idea stuck around, and it wouldn't stop making noise until I did something about it. So, I got the website name (I'm not revealing it until the site is up), and I'm not looking back. I'm going to start a lit magazine that features writing and art from both domestic and international adoptees.

Now it's time to dive into lit mag research, start networking, and keep my creativity going with my forthcoming poetry collection. I'm tuning into lit mag podcasts, and I purchased Vevna Forrow's Lit Mag Nation, which I can't wait to read.

And, like most creative projects, the doubts are pouring in. I've never founded anything in my life. I was an editor for my schools' literary magazines in high school and college. I have experience working with editors and the publishing process after launching The Quiet Edge of Memory. But can I really do this? Are literary magazines still a thing? I see calls for submissions to them all the time, but do people value their work?

Regardless of what the answers are, I'm doing this, and this time, I don't want to hide under Patrick Star's rock. My project is out in the open, and I'm taking confident strides toward the finish line.

Friday, June 5, 2026

Yeah, I'm back on Instagram

That is, with a grunt.

I reactivated my account yesterday only to pop in and inform my followers that The Quiet Edge of Memory is back on Draft2Digital. Maybe I'll keep my profile up; I believe more of my target audience might be hanging out there, but I won't be posting on IG regularly. The ads and ASMR that greeted me after I signed in made me want to flee to BlueSky. Give me a text field over uploading aesthetic photos any day.

I'm currently reading Laren Ho's The Last Tang Standing. A few months ago, I tried getting into it twice but couldn't get past the first chapter. I pressed on this morning and am 20% through, and I'm hooked.

I feel Jane Eyre calling and would love to curl up with some Gothic literature next. Can I do that sitting in a manor by a fireplace, surrounded by books on a rainy day?

Hoping to make today a social media-free Friday. I need to get back into art journaling, tackle some laundry, and finally clear out the clutter that I no longer care about, because who wants useless crap when you have books?

Read, write, and remember--never betray your story. It offends the imagination.

Monday, June 1, 2026

Ambiguity: A mind game or a gift?

I fell hard for ambiguity in fiction after rereading An Na's The Place Between Breaths, a YA novel about a teenager named Grace whose schizophrenic mother has gone missing. Na uses the four seasons as chapter titles. Spring is the only chapters that have an assigned POV (Grace), but the other three seasons can be told from two characters' perspectives, and depending on who you choose will alter the story.

When I learned about this, all I could think was, WHOA! You can play with POVs and let your readers decide how they read the story? I've read books with multiple interpretations, but this was when creative control blew up in my face. You can tell from my blog title that unconventional writing techniques stick to my brain, and I'll never peel them off. I've admired Na's gift for writing for years and wondered if I could play with POVs in my own work. At the time, I was finishing my line edits for The Quiet Edge of Memory, and my pantser spirit was telling me to take a step back and reconstruct some of my novel.

I adopted Na's method and wrote a new opening chapter titled Maternity. I used second person, and the words pouring out were either Martha talking to her mother or Ian addressing his Korean birthmother or adopted mom. Both are yearning for a close maternal bond and expressing their fears about how their family dynamics would shape them in the future.

Okay, this was pretty cool, but what would my readers think? Is this a good idea for a debut novel? I had my doubts, but I kept going. I went through my manuscript and found any commonalities my characters had. In The Quiet Edge of Memory, my protagonists lug around baggage from depression and abuse. And as their parents navigate the aftermath of broken marriages, their fathers are the ones haunted by what ifs and should haves and are desperate for some closure.

So, I banged out more ambiguity.

Calamity can be read from Martha or Ian's father's POV.

Perplexity is either Martha's father or Ian watching her cope after she discovers her newfound faith comes with some heavy consequences.

Adversity is Ian addressing Martha or vice versa after he makes some life-altering decisions.

Infinity is Martha's mother or father talking to her before the story concludes.

And the last chapter? I can't explain it without spoiling it.

Photo by Therese Vercellone

My decisions for this novel were met with curiosity, criticism--and I'm grateful to report--some understanding. I was told this was a waste of time. It was too much work for my readers. I should have written an explanation in the book and wasn't putting my audience first.

In other words, taking creative risks should not be celebrated. It's selfish.

If writers never go beyond the trends and experiment with storytelling, there is no such thing as creating your own brand, honoring your own voice, and you will never know if a writing technique was worth it until you use it. Creative risks inspire and challenge art. They form discussions, cause you to ponder, and remind us that the imagination has no boundaries.

Ambiguity isn't for everyone and that's okay. I understand there are people who want every chapter of a story to make sense. But I also understand me. I understand what I wanted for The Quiet Edge of Memory. It became a story I never really finished writing because I let my readers do some of the storytelling, and I can't imagine it written any other way.