Monday, August 17, 2026

a moment in the day: mattress

We're lying in bed. We've been watching our show, having our usual late dinner, and the credit music is rolling and soon it's time to go to sleep.

He says, "I'm a little nervous about the new mattress coming tomorrow."

"You mean because it might be too difficult to get set up or it might not turn out to be what you want?"

"You know, I've had this mattress for thirty years," he says. "I think since I was living in my grandmother's house."

I remember it there. When I visited him that one time before we were married. When he made me dinner and we sat on the bed and ate profiteroles.

He picks up his dish and takes it out of the room, to the kitchen, to rinse it. I lie back and close my eyes. I can picture lying in this bed in our old apartment. The little TV in the corner with the bay window behind. How we used to call it the tree house because through all the windows in that corner, at least if you were lying down, you could see nothing but branches and leaves.

I try to feel Nicholas lying on the mattress next to me. Stephen breaks the spell as he comes back into the bedroom. 

I feel so suddenly sad and I don't know why. It's strange to feel sad about losing a mattress. When losing it doesn't erase the stories that happened there, when it's not even the whole bed. Maybe it's not loss I'm feeling but some sort of deep nostalgia. I just know that when I lay back a moment ago and closed my eyes, I felt like I was there in that old place. Could really feel it. Which is something for me because I don't tend to remember things vividly. It was a little dream of a place, wasn't it? Too small, but those bay windows and the stacks of old movie DVDs we used to watch and the Christmas lights strung across the edge of the ceiling.

I wasn't able to fully conjure Nicholas though. I think I only pictured him there from photos we have of him somewhere, lounging reluctantly close to Kitty. No, that wasn't even Nicholas, was it? The little Chihuahua in those photos was José. My memories are all bunched up together and suddenly feel far away.

I think when I tried to picture Nicholas just now, I didn't know where I should put him in the scene. On the pillow beside my head, maybe, or under the covers by my waist, in the crook of my arm, warm and breathing.

Sunday, August 9, 2026

Book Cover: Soulwaking

Recently, I got a request to design a book cover from Leland Cheuk, publisher of 7.13 Books, one of my favorite indie presses. I'm always jazzed to work with Leland. His press puts out all sorts of really great titles, and it's just a wonderful press to work with.

What I didn't notice when I first said yes to the job was that this wasn't a cover project for his press. It was for him. Also the author of the fabulous No Good Very Bad Asian, among others, Leland has a novel forthcoming from Harvard Square Editions, a publisher I worked with years ago when they put out Susan DeFreitas's (incidentally award-winning) Hot Season.

I was excited to work with Leland on his novel—and honored that out of all the cover artists he knows and works with, he trusted me with his own book.

And then when he sent me the description of the novel, I was even more excited, because this was a book that was very much up my alley, a book I wanted to read right now:

On Election Night 2016, Lee Zhou—a disillusioned Chinese American musician busking in Brooklyn—overdoses and wakes in 1960 in the body of his grandfather, a persecuted writer in Mao’s China. Meanwhile, the grandfather, Zhou Ge Yun, comes to in Trump’s America, inhabiting his grandson’s body, unable to speak English, and bewildered by the future. As both men struggle to survive in their new realities—one in a famine-ravaged reeducation camp, the other in the midst of Trump’s first term and ICE’s immigrant crackdown—they begin to see their mirrored lives as the only way to reconcile a fractured family, and each embarks on an unforgettable journey to find their ways home.

Blending historical realism and speculative fiction, SOULWAKING examines how authoritarianism echoes across generations and continents. 

So many reasons to be excited about this book! 

Leland told me he was interested in a very minimalist design, and he sent me a link to Fitzcaraldo Editions, a publisher that does super simple, elegant covers. He also sent a couple mock-ups he did himself that showed what he was thinking of for his own. Red as a background color. White lettering with a touch of yellow. 


"My initial thought on the red covers," he told me, "was that it evokes the red and yellow of the China flag while evoking the red and white of the MAGA hat."

Harvard Square Editions was interested in introducing some blue into the color scheme to help bring home the American side of the twofold story. They also suggested a couple other completely different concepts which would have been great to explore, but I won't detail them here because we never did get around to exploring them, zeroing in on a cover we liked before we had a chance.

I started my work by trying some really minimalist versions based on his thoughts/mock-ups... 


and then added a little more detail as I went, but still keeping my efforts very simple and spare.


My own first impulse upon hearing about the book was to want to split the cover in half and center an object on both sides of the split, one straight up, one upside down. Sort of like this example...


The objects would be mirrors of each other, but unlike in my example, they wouldn't be the same. They'd be two similar but different objects, used to depict the duality of the story, the two different time periods, maybe, or the two different countries, China and America. If the object on one side was a very simple icon of the Statue of Liberty, say, maybe its mirror object would be a building or tower that was just as recognizable as a Chinese landmark.

When I mentioned this thought to Leland (during the ideation period, Leland was communicating directly with me and then discussing things separately with the folks from Harvard Square), he said if there was an image on the cover, it should perhaps be a pair of shoes. He sent me a link to what he was thinking about and said, "I remember my grandpa wearing these shoes."


They're called bùxié 布鞋 and are traditional Chinese cloth shoes, often black and white with a white heal. You can read about them here

With this idea, the concept shifted from the double-one-up-one-down-object to just a single object—well, a pair is technically a double object, but you know what I mean—but knowing how important spareness was to this cover, I figured maybe our single-double would be good on its own. I did a little research to find some more pictures of those shoes, I liked the one he sent me, but wondered whether our shoes should be pointed forward like in the picture, or a side view to get a little more detail. I found two pairs that I liked, one pointing left and one pointing right. The one pair seemed an older version, and I thought, with my undoubtedly biased American brain, that that pair would better evoke China, at least to the American audience. I went into Illustrator and built the three different pairs so that Leland could choose his shoes.



I made some samples using the shoes.


Along the way, I had a bit of a brainstorm. What if, instead of a pair of shoes, it was a single clock, dead center in the cover, split in the middle with English language numerals on one side and Chinese numerals on the other? That would get to the duality of the story and also the time-travel element. 

I found some photos of Chinese clocks and went to Illustrator to build my own. 


And put together a couple samples that I included when I sent Leland what I had been up to so far.


That second example was me taking the concept what Leland very politely termed (and I agree) a bridge too far by flipping not only the clock but also all the text—and doing so by using Google translate, which gave me a stand-in translation that was, I'm sure, garbage. But Leland really liked the clock concept. He asked if I could take the sample on the left and do a blue version and a white version. Oh yeah, blue; with this set, I'd sort of forgotten about the publisher's request to bring in blue. In playing with color, I didn't love the white tries, but the blue was nice. I also explored a red-blue combo.


Leland really liked the blue. He said it, "evokes water, which is a continuous symbol in the book—baptism, freedom swimming, escape over water." I love when something I do in a design unwittingly gets to something in the book that's unexpected. He also liked the red-blue split. When he sent samples to the publisher, they liked that red-blue split the best. They made a suggestion that I thought was really interesting. They wondered about changing "a novel" to "the novel." A nod to the fact that Leland will be working on doing an audiobook. I hope that happens because as a big fan of audiobooks, I'd love to read it that way.

I made the change, and we had our cover.



Soulwaking will be officially out in the world in April, 2027. More information on Leland the writer is here. And on Leland the publisher of 7.13 books is here. And more information on Harvard Square Editions is here

The story behind the story is fascinating too! I thought I'd close this with some interview questions I sent him about the book.

What was the inspiration for Soulwaking?

First, the grandpa in the book is based on my real-life grandpa. Ge Yun (1925-2018) was a dissident writer, who joined us in the U.S. in the early 1980s to help raise my brother, myself, and my cousins. Here, he wrote books (in Chinese) and his debut essay collection Opening The Window to America was a big hit and launched a decades-long literary career. Near the end of his memoir, which I had translated, he summed up his life by writing something to the effect of: "at least I kept the devils (or bad guys) awake at night." I tried to find a word that encapsulated that sentiment. Originally, it was "ghostwaking," and the publisher and I went back and forth and landing on "soulwaking," which could have a lot of meanings within the book.

When you suggested the shoes for the cover, you mentioned that you remembered your grandfather wearing those shoes. It made me wonder whether there were any elements of your grandfather in your character Zhou Ge Yun. Are any of the characters in Soulwaking based on you or your family?

The vast majority of the details within the book are true and based on my family. I got the details from my grandpa's collected writings, which I pored over with Google Translate. The character for "Zhou" is the same one as "Cheuk." My family is from South China and Cantonese. If they came from North China and immigrated to the U.S., my last name would probably be spelled "Zhou." The main American character is named Lee, and my family and my oldest friends call me "Lee." 

The time-traveling though is entirely fictive! 

Follow-up question to that: have you ever been a busking musician? A non-busking musician?

I had some open mic days in college. I've played guitar at a campfire sing-along level most of my life, and I've been doing some songwriting. I want to spend more time on it, but this writing thing keeps getting in the way. 

You told me you did loads of research for this book. And I quote: "the amount of research - ugh why did I do it?! :)" I'd love to hear about that process.

I did a lot of painstaking work to recreate my grandpa's personality and way of thinking. I made sure to minimize any American idioms and even the places, like America, are written in Pinyin ("Meiguo") because my grandpa knew zero English. I read dozens of books on the Chinese labor camps during that time period. Bitter Winds: A Memoir of My Years in China's Gulag, by Harry Wu, was especially influential. And Underground America: Narratives of Undocumented Lives, edited by Peter Orner, published by McSweeney's in 2008, compiled oral narratives of undocumented immigrants, some of whom detail their lives in detention centers. Unfortunately, the US has been treating immigrants this way for decades. Trump might have turned the dial up a notch or two, but the infrastructure and the system has been in place no matter which party is in office.



Tuesday, August 4, 2026

a moment in the day: soft rains

8:20 PM, August 4, 2026. I've been listening to Leonard Nimoy read Ray Bradbury's short story "There Will Come Soft Rains" as I tinker with a book cover design in my little upstairs work room. I heard just moments ago that the story takes place today—this day, this year—so quick I looked it up, found the recording online, put it on, let it play.

I read all of The Martian Chronicles in high school and loved it. When I went to find the story just now, I couldn't remember what it was about—high school was a lifetime ago—but as I listened, it all came back to my memory in trickles, each moment appearing in my mind just before it hit my ears.

A post-apocalyptic story. Not even a story so much as the depiction of a moment in time, a day, inside one family's house in the immediate aftermath of a nuclear blast.

When I was a kid, that was what I thought the end of the world would be. 

The air conditioner hisses and gurgles. Leonard Nimoy reads elegantly, with restraint, and the prose is more beautiful than I remember. There are robot mice cleaning the house for the absent humans, and the story feels realer than I could have imagined.

When Nimoy's voice trails off, leaving behind the fictional night of August 4, 2026, I look up and there's bright red in my window. The blush of a wildfire-smoke sunset. I get up and climb onto the futon bed, stick my head into the bubble of the skylight. 

Black crows streak across the sky through the curtain of ash that has settled on the glass.

Book Cover: Animal Kingdom

I've been so busy with design and other projects lately, to the point that I knew I couldn't take on anything new for a while. So when Alex Behr came up to me at a lit event and asked if I was too busy to design the cover for her upcoming story collection, I said, "Yes. But I will anyway!"

I love Alex as a person and as a writer. Her first story collection Planet Grim is a knockout, and I was honored to design the cover for that one. I couldn't pass up the chance to design the cover for Animal Kingdom too. 

As a treat—well, really as a help for my concepting, so that I could get a feel for the book—Alex sent me the manuscript. I'm generally too busy to read, basically, but I popped around the manuscript a bit and I can report that this one's going to be a knockout too.

Alex was interested in using a photograph as the base for the cover, as we did before, and publisher Leland Cheuk was good with that direction. Alex shared a collection of pictures for me to play with. There were so many great images to choose from. 

"The photos of me are too similar to Planet Grim, I think!" she said. 

But look at these! 

I loved the shots themselves, but they also had nice, big spaces that would be perfect for fitting in book cover text. And I had sort of the opposite take from Alex's worry that these would be too similar to our Planet Grim cover:

Planet Grim and Animal Kingdom are both short story collections, both put out by the awesome indie press 7.13 Books. In my head they were sister books and having one cover hearken back to the other felt like it might be appropriate. I particularly liked the photo where the hat obscures Alex's face. If she was interested, we could have an obscured face at the bottom of the cover of Animal Kingdom and an obscured face at the top of the cover of Planet Grim, and that would make for a nice pair.

Something that would distinguish the two nicely, if we went this route, would be Alex's guidance on tone and typesetting:

"I like the idea of album art as inspiration, where someone stoned can study the image. And it’s really clear to read. A sturdy font to contrast w/ Planet Grim."

She sent me some links to specific album covers she was thinking about.

Often big, grungy or high-contrast images. Sans serif fonts. All-caps or no-caps as opposed to title case. And often with text that's almost an afterthought but with fonts commanding enough that the eye finds them quickly. 

I started to play with various images from Alex's collection. With her go-ahead, I included the photos of her in with my experimenting. They fit really well into the album cover vibe. I played with color much like I did with Planet Grim, giving it an overall wash and contrasting that with font colors. But whereas with Planet Grim, the image becomes secondary to the overlay of text, here the large image and small text have equal weight.

Another image I experimented with was this one.

I loved it so much! The color, the blood, the fact that it seems to say there are stories in here.

This photo was one of the images I played with that decidedly did not want the album cover treatment. I don't know how I tend to know what an image wants, but I knew this one wanted balance and coverage. It wanted more text within the space of the art. It definitely wanted me to take that blood and use it in some secondary text. 

I used high-contrast color for the text, which did feel like it was staying inside that album-cover vibe. And I tried two type treatments before sending a batch of samples off for review. My favorite of the blood-heel mock-ups was on the left, but I wanted to try text that stayed nestled inside the legs as well.

There were more images I played with in the course of my cover tinkering, but in the end, Alex and Leland both liked the bloody heel. With thanks to photographer Heather Maxwell Hall, and with one tiny adjustment to add a little shadow on the left leg under the title for better visibility, we had our cover.

Animal Kingdom will be out on November 3. More info on the book and the other wonderful offerings from 7.13 Books can be found here.

A quick bio of the photographer:

Heather Maxwell Hall is a writer and photographer currently based on Vancouver Island. She's interested in synchronicity, overlooked details, and the strange magic of everyday life.

You can check out more of Heather Maxwell Hall's photographs on her Instagram page here

More information on Alex is here. Below is an excerpt, from "Spectacles," a story in poems. 

Alex told me she originally wrote it in the Portland literary event / workshop SHARE, which was a periodic gathering curated by Kathleen Lane and Margaret Malone, where artists of all kinds would create around a single word prompt. She says, "The word was 'spectacle' and I wrote four, drew tarot cards for them, and made my own simple tarot cards with those events written on the back." 

"I wrote a bunch more," Alex says, "during a chapbook class with Matthew Dickman at the Attic—we went to IPRC to make 12 or so copies to share among classmates. 2017." In fact, here is a pic of the chapbook! Artwork by Christine Shields.

And here's a taste of "Spectacles" from Animal Kingdom.

*

—Of the child saying to his mom, “Can you wash my tooth off? It’s bouncing around my lunchbox. I was eating Chex Mix from Hunter and it’s kind of dirty.”

—Of a camper on a Girl Scout cot. Down one leg: pink, puckered skin. The girl and her friends were in a pit. Someone squirted lighter fluid and dropped a match.

—Of tumors cracking open the wife’s bones. The wife, high on fentanyl, talks to chipmunks no one else sees.

—Of the boyfriend, drunk at the party. Dickies on the stereo. He wants to stay on the bathroom tile floor because it’s cool on his cheek. But a girl wants to pee. The boyfriend refuses to leave, so guys drag him out and punch him. At home, the boyfriend throws up blood in the tub. The rock girl documents the evening on a paper bag.

—Of Tommy, the troublemaker. In sixth-grade health class he passes around a Penthouse, but the brain is through reading garbage like that!

—Of the husband throwing a Converse sneaker against the son’s wall, and yelling: “I was trying. The divorce is on you.” The wife sneaks on the husband’s phone, seeing photos of a dark bedroom, of trees bending in silhouette, sent as texts to the woman he loves. Better Call Saul makes her cry.

—Of the middle-school girl rating list. Katie gets A+ in all categories. The brain is not on it.

—Of a young woman greeting the rock girl at a party. She sticks her finger in the hole at the crotch of the rock girl’s jeans. The hole isn’t a temptation—it’s laziness. It’s an anticorporate gesture to the corporations that don’t want her. The finger doesn’t want the rock girl, either. The hosts’ secret cameras record bad behavior. But not this.