Monsoon Tiger and Other Stories

Good Monday, everyone, darling. How are you today? After a beautiful book launch on Saturday for Rain (of course I will include some pictures) I was very tired and not keen on posting. But I know that I have at least one deer who is waiting patiently for me to update and so I will update. And there will be something lovely on the 23rd, which is in 2 days. You can expect that. I promise.

Funny story about this is that when I was trying to answer the question my mind totally blanked. The question was about my character and what she was like (I was reading from Beneath the Bougainvilleas) and Laurel is this beautiful, beautiful creature who has fallen in love in an unfortunate way and it is about waiting, and loving within boundaries and crossing those boundaries anyways, and it is also about sisters and mothers and trees.

This is very easily my favorite photo now, and I am more than happy to say I finally have a photo with the ephemeral and ever lovely Rain.

Women are very beautiful, you know. And Tio Pakusadewo. From left to right, Tara, me, Rain, Dinda, Amanda, Fathia, Dian, and Om Tio. They were brilliant readers.

Stolen from the great author's Instagram. Look at that. Look at her beautiful, beautiful name. Eight short stories and they are all packed with beauty and evocative prose that I wanted to drown in, again and again. 

Also I suppose I will give a short (and a totally unbaised) review of the book. It is not available on Amazon but if you are very keen on reading it let me know because I can try to buy it here and send it overseas. 

REVIEW // Rain Chudori's debut book is a stunning read. Full of memorable characters, like the mother in "The Dollhouse" and Laurel from "Beneath the Bouganvilleas", it is a book meant for warm nights and it is a book which will leave your heart trembling. The novel's vision is precise and consistent, packed with tenderly-delivered light: "...I could see the miniscule figures of people through the pod-like windows, leaning their heads, reading newspapers, drinking tea from paper cups, sleeping, almost too luxuriously" (94).  Each story is rooted in the experience of woman, in the process of growing up, an initiation into the arts of losing, loving, and waiting. 

strengths:
01 // Heartbreaking dialogue.
02 // Towering images which linger far after they've been read.
03 // Brilliant characterization.

weaknesses:
01 // Occasionally, story structure becomes repetitive. But it is nuanced and well-crafted, so I am only speaking to some readers who may get bored easily.

—

The 19th was, coincidentally, my youngest brother's birthday. He is 3 now, and over 9,000 miles away, and I miss him very, very much. Happy birthday, Ansel, my dear, and I hope that next year I will be able to hold your chubby hands and hear you laugh again.

Other things I have been up to...let's see. I have been slaving on a short story. I am trying to get into the habit of writing short stories—I have only ever written one before this year, and it was for my submission to the Iowa Young Writers Studio. If you are in high school I highly recommend this program; it is esteemed as one of (if not the greatest) summer writing programs in the United States. They are opening submissions on February 1st, and I know other comparable summer programs are doing the same. And yes, if you are wondering, I was accepted. Unfortunately I was not able to attend because of extenuating circumstances, but if you want to take a look at my application just send me an e-mail and I will be glad to help you.

My dream was to go to IYWS and eventually to Iowa's MFA program and I was devastated that I couldn't attend. Also now I am having doubts about whether I will ever get there or if I will ever be a literary great but—we will see. I will be led, slowly, to my future. (I am trying to have confidence and conviction).

I am more in love with the English language than I have ever been love with a man and I think that is a good thing, a warm thing. Why worry about flesh when you can weep endlessly over the brutal power of words? Although I regret never learning Indonesian, because there is a wealth of Indonesian literature I cannot muddle through because of my inability to understand the language properly. This is why we should all be taught different languages when we are young: so that when we are alone by the fire there will be many friends to comfort us.

I suppose for Christmas there were a number of things I wanted: mainly books but also new pens, and books, and also books, and some coffee, and books, and new notebooks and time alone in cafes with good Internet, and a public library near my house, and books. I do not expect that I will get any of those things and it is rather disappointing. I miss my books. I miss the summers where I walked to the library and borrowed fifteen books and returned them all the next day to eat and eat and eat more words. 

As always, I am sending my love to you.
Ebi