Hair the Dragon

In conjunction with the year of the dragon and Chinese New Year, here's a short story I wrote and performed at the Butterworth Fringe Fest with Readings@Tanjong last year. 

HAIR THE DRAGON

They say that the tunnels under George Town are where the dragons used to live. I don’t know about that. It’s 2023, for God’s sake. What dragons? Have you ever seen a dragon? They’ve probably been hounded—or hunted—to extinction by now. It’s not like we’ve seen any in recent decades. Centuries, even. The stories still stick around, though. 

Like the one my uncle’s uncle’s uncle once told my uncle’s uncle, who told my uncle who told me about this dragon that he used to know. Yeah, but unlike the song, it wasn’t a breakup. It wasn’t even a romance. More like a…threat?

Anyway, back in ye olden days, we used to have wells. There’s one at Kuan Im Teng—The Goddess of Mercy Temple—if you want to know what a well looks like, though no one uses it anymore. It’s like this deep hole that’s all dried up and probably filled with rubbish, but that’s where people used to get fresh water and stuff in the past, no kidding. They didn’t twisty-turny or pushy-pully, yay clean water! You had to work for it by going out to the garden, to the well, and pull up a bucket of water on a chain. Then boil it or something so you don’t die. The water, not the bucket. You reuse the bucket. 

If I lived back then, I would have lots of muscles. Or I would be dead of dehydration. Probably dead.   

So, there’s this network of wells, and obviously they’re connected by tunnels, all the way from Fort Cornwallis through to Masjid Kapitan Keling. Or not so obviously because they’re hidden underground. I haven’t seen them myself and I don’t plan to. I don’t think half of them are even accessible now, so I really don’t think we have dragons living in Penang anymore. Where would they even stay? 

Source: https://atap.org.my/maps/ 

I’ve been trying to imagine this, but the best I can come up with is like the underground sewer network, which eww, why would a dragon live there? Aren’t they supposed to be majestic creatures of death and destruction and all that? 

But lots of the old stories say that dragons like caves, so I suppose this was maybe what they were used to. I dunno, I thought they’d hoard enough money to buy themselves a mansion or two. Maybe dragons are just weird that way.

This dragon that my uncle’s uncle’s uncle used to know was called Hair. Not because he had a lot of hair—dragons don’t have hair, they have scales. I definitely have the intonation wrong, but it’s something like the Hokkien word for prawn? Ha, He, Heh, Her, Haaaaiiir. ANYWAY. It probably means something else and may not even be Hokkien so who knows what his name is actually supposed to be? Hair is easier to say for a banana like me. 

Right. Back to the story. 

Hair is an ancient dragon, because all dragons are ancient, and my uncle’s uncle’s uncle was ancient, so everyone I’m talking about is very old right now and mostly dead. Except the dragon, because dragons don’t die, and my uncle, because well, he’s only seventy-ish. He still has a strong heart and he’d be here telling you this story except he doesn’t speak much English and he says his legs get tired, but I know that’s a lie because he always goes for these long walks to the apartment on the next road to see his mistress. (Who he thinks we know nothing about.) Now, if there were tunnels in Butterworth, I’m sure he’d be all for using them so that no one could follow him to her place.

I wonder where I can find that info...

I met Hair once. Or at least, I think it was him. My uncle wasn’t really clear in the introduction, but I think my Chinese was passable enough to understand that he said, “This is Hair the Dragon,” instead of “This is Prawn the Loan Shark.” Which is what I hate about Chinese languages, you know? Everything could be another word if you say it wrong and it should be so pretty and witty and poetic but really it’s not. Plus, I can’t really tell the difference between Mandarin and Hokkien and Cantonese and whatever else. So, who knows what my uncle really said?

The guy I met is now a Facebook friend, which is kind of cool, assuming I met the dragon and not the loan shark. If they even are the same person. He looked like a human, which is a thing I’m told dragons can do. Maybe you should prod your neighbour and see if they’re really human. They could be a dragon in disguise. 

Anyway, next year is the year of the dragon, which is Hair’s year. He hates it, apparently, and says it’s supposed to be mine. Because Rats and Dragons get along or something like that. Don’t ask me the specifics, it’s not like I believe in it anyway, but I believe in knowing stuff. Knowing stuff is always helpful. Maybe that’s why Hair likes me. I know a lot of stuff. 

But you’d think that you’d like your own year, right? I thought so too, because I always thought that if it was your year, they would favour you, right? Your greatest cable, right there. Boom! Direct connection to the gods or whatever. But he told me that having the same year as your zodiac animal was actually bad because then you would clash with them. The only way to resolve that is by signing a “peace treaty” with your “zodiac animal general”. Which is stupid. Like, we’re Chinese, we’re buddies, right? We’re Penangites, we’re buddies, right? So if you’re both dragons, you should be buddies, right? 

The problem, I was told, was that whilst Hair is a dragon, he’s not one of the dragons of the zodiac. There are five elements in the cycle, like earth, fire, wind, water, heart, by your powers—no, that’s Captain Planet. This makes me feel old, but I don’t think anyone remembers who Captain Planet is anymore. The shiny white guy with green hair? That anti-pollution campaign cartoon? Oh well. 

The five, um, Chinese elements, which I don’t remember, means there are five different dragon generals, and Hair isn’t one of them so I suppose that puts him in opposition with all of them. Unless I’m getting this wrong and all this applies only to humans and not to dragons. 

All that aside, Hair used to live in the tunnels under George Town for whatever reason. I’m actually still not convinced there are tunnels. Or that dragons lived there. Though I was told that if you visit the Pinang Peranakan Mansion—you know, that light green building where they filmed The Little Nyonya—there’s another well leading to a tunnel right there. I remember visiting once, but I can’t for the life of me remember if I saw a well. But they might have filled it in and covered it up because, well, tourists. You don’t want things falling in that might awaken something scarier than a dragon. 

SOOOOOOO...

They say the tunnels of George Town were used for other nefarious reasons in those days, besides potentially housing dragons which are not Balrogs. One of those reasons was to smuggle drugs like opium and other, um, illegal items, like guns and weapons. There was a gang war going on, after all. And a war against the British. I could be getting all the years wrong, so don't quote me on this, but anyway, another place where you’re supposed to be able to find a dragon—or THE dragon—in the tunnel network is at the Cheah Clock Tower, which was built to summon a dragon to save Penang from the Big Bad Mat Salleh. I guess it didn’t work because it's now called the Queen Victoria Memorial something or other.

So, the supposed tunnels somewhere under George Town is where my uncle’s uncle’s uncle met Hair, because dragons were honourable creatures who very much did not like smuggling going on in their homes, even if those homes were smelly old tunnels. I mean, I would be upset too, if someone were to use my house as their gang’s hideout and potentially get me into trouble. And obviously, my uncle’s uncle’s uncle was one of those involved in the smuggling. 

It was kind of how my family made their money back in ye olden days. It’s not like all the stuff they smuggled was bad, just controlled, kind of like if you bring chewing gum to Singapore now. Smuggling things like spices and tea to evade taxes was quite A Thing back then because He Who controls the Spice controls the Universe… It really was just that the British wanted to own all the things and didn’t want anyone else to have the money. And my family wanted to get in on that money, at least, until Hair frightened the living daylights out of this ancestor of mine so much so that he avoided the tunnels from then on and went back on the straight and narrow for pretty much the rest of his life. 

I’d like to say that my uncle’s uncle’s uncle never saw Hair ever again, but that’s not the truth. Hair kind of stuck around and checked in on him every once in a while to make sure he didn’t go back to smuggling things in tunnels, which is why, I guess, this story kept getting passed down through the generations. Plus, the story goes, after meeting Hair one too many times, the whole family just up and left George Town and moved to Butterworth. 

Actually, I should ask Hair whether he really lived in the tunnels of George Town or if all that was just a stupid story my uncle’s uncle’s uncle told my uncle’s uncle to entertain him, who in turn told my uncle, who in turn told me because I like knowing things and maybe I’m just gullible like that. I guess I’ll message him when I get home. He’ll probably laugh himself silly and say that everything my uncle’s uncle’s uncle said was a lie. 

He’s probably Prawn the Loan Shark anyway.

That's all, folks!

Originally written for and performed at:

#musicmonday: Budaya 4.0: Cerita Kita | A Tapestry of Malaysian Tales

The kids (lol) over at Berklee Malaysia Association wrote music to 12 stories of Malaysia as part of their showcase and in conjunction with GTLF2022. Here's the description:

The Berklee Malaysian Association (BMA) is proud to present BUDAYA 4.0: Cerita Kita (A Tapestry of Malaysian Tales). This year, our student-run concert aims to showcase music inspired by 12 stories of Malaysia from its unique fusion of multiple cultures that is influenced by the indigenous, immigrant and colonizing powers.

Our show presents original music composed by the students of the Berklee Malaysian Association that are inspired by local Malaysian voices, utilizing traditional and modern instruments from different ethnic groups. We aim to create a contemporary sound that pushes the boundaries of sonic standards, while presenting a narrative of how different communities and cultures solidified into a uniquely diverse Asian country.

Out setlist includes three stories from ‘Home Groan’, a collection of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and graphic art, compiled and edited by Anna Tan. It features work by twenty-two writers and three artists, all either based in Penang, or with a connection to Penang, Malaysia.

You can currently get Home Groan here:

Penang: Hin Store | GerakBudaya/Hikayat

KL: Riwayat

Online: Malaysian Writers Society | Working Desk Publishing

Ebook: Google Play

#bookreview: Two Figures in a Car and Other Stories | Wan Phing Lim

Two Figures in a Car and Other Stories by Wan Phing Lim
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

As a brief disclaimer, I am probably biased towards this book because Wan Phing is a writing friend - some of these stories I remember from critique sessions, and two of them (A Star Has Landed and Islanders) were first published in NutMag, the annual zine that I run.

I've always loved Wan Phing's voice as a writer - and this debut collection of 14 stories (2 of them new) is a showcase of that. The stories are very rooted in local life and the places she's lived - mostly Penang and Singapore - while the one (and a half) set in England are peopled by Malaysians. Her language dips in and out of local vernacular, peppered with Malay and Hokkien expressions and the occasional Mandarin phrase.

If I were to put a central theme to this collection, I'd say it's relationships - or maybe love, sex, and family. Because whether it's Seng sending money home to his son, Sozai musing on the Penang Bridge, the Ruby case that Sergeant Wong refuses to close, or the many people Justin Liew has slept with, each character is pushed and pulled by their relationships to the people around them. There's no shying away from the dark side and failings of human nature: the stories explore ambition and escape, affairs and one-night stands, madness and murder, as well as the supernatural.

All fourteen stories are quite short - I think many of them don't cross the 2K mark - so Two Figures in a Car and Other Stories is quite a quick, if somewhat dark, read.

View all my reviews

Get it here! 

#fridayflash: Regrets (excerpt) from #homegroan: A #nutmag anthology

Catherine Chong stood in the middle of the road on Puncak Bukit Mutiara and stared at the house in front of her. It was a squat, blocky thing that didn’t look like much from the outside—standing at road level, it appeared to be a very small single-storey house with a tiny front porch.

She frowned at it, then checked the address again.

It was the right house…

But it wasn’t what she’d expected to see, not with the vague memories she still held of this place. It was supposed to be huge, palatial. Three-storeys high, a wonderland she and Julia had roamed, going from room to ever larger room, conquering balconies that overlooked the sea, snuggling in the white wicker swing.

Maybe it’s bigger on the inside. Catherine snorted as she stepped off the road and approached carefully. It’s not a Tardis.

Walls spread out on both sides, blocking the rest of the house and its grounds from sight. That, at least, felt right. 

She knocked on the door. A minute later, Catherine slapped her forehead. Obviously, no one was going to answer because no one was currently living there. She had the keys in her pocket. Still, her school friends had once told her it was courtesy to knock anyway, to let any spirits living in there know you were entering. Catherine wasn’t sure if she believed in spirits, or if that rule applied to anything other than hotel rooms. She dug in her pockets and pulled out the keys.

A soft “hello” still slipped off her tongue as the door creaked open to a mid-sized room with sagging racks and shelves. For a moment, she was transported back into the past, a seven-year-old clinging to her mother’s hand as she visited a new school friend for the first time. Julia had been sitting in the wicker swing, her twin, James, perched somehow on its rounded back, both staring with identical large, brown eyes.

She blinked.

The swing now lay on the floor, the sad, rusty chain dangling from the ceiling.

Catherine stepped in without taking off her shoes or closing the door. Despite the still-bright daylight, the interior of the house was rather dark. She fumbled along the wall until she found the light switch. There was a faint fizzle and then nothing. With a sigh, she pulled out her phone from her pocket and turned on the torch.

The room didn’t open out to a bigger living room; it led instead to a circular stairway heading downwards.

Of course, you dummy.

She’d remembered the three floors right, just not the direction. The house went downwards, not up.

Catherine hesitated at the top of the stairs, looking down into the dark hole that gaped before her. She glanced at her phone. It was already six in the evening. If the house was already this dark now, she didn’t want to be inside when the sun set without a proper torch, or working lights. She made her way back out of the house, turned off the phone torch, then locked up.

“I’ll be back,” she said aloud, though she wasn’t sure who she was speaking to—herself or the house. Maybe both.

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Check out our NutMag blog tomorrow for another excerpt!

Want to get your hands on a copy? PREORDER NOW for special rates and packages! 

Why Your England So Bad? World Englishes and the way forward for Malaysian writers

So. In the light of all the nasty debates over proper grammar and How English Standards Are Going Down The Drain in Malaysia, I figured I should post this online.

Now, to clarify, I used to be quite pedantic about my English and how perfect it has to be. It took reading a lot more local stuff that worked instead of the super-stilted Proper English Written by Malaysians (grammatically correct, but ugh) for me to figure out that no, actually...there is a rhythm and a beauty to the way we speak that actually makes sense. Malaysian English isn't quite standardised across races/states to be a proper creole, but there ARE rules to how we phrase things, which sometimes deviates a little depending on whether you're more influenced by Chinese, Malay, Tamil, or dll. Even pure bananas like me pick it up second-hand. And I don't speak any Chinese and my Malay is abysmal. haha.

It took me coming to study Creative Writing in London to figure this out. Who knew World Englishes is a Thing? They don't talk about it back home. BUT THEY SHOULD.

Anyway, I performed this at the The Decolonial Earth event in Goldsmiths, talking about my linguistic heritage. It starts with the monologue, titled 'Banana', and then continues with the rest of the essay.

DOWNLOAD MONOLOGUE

When I first started writing ‘Banana’, I had no idea what I wanted to say. It was something of a mishmash of thoughts and frustrations interspersed with some sort of a story. In a way, this monologue is a showcase of my ongoing confusion over who I’m supposed to be.

Technically, I know who I’m supposed to be. I’m ethnically Chinese, of Malaysian nationality. But it’s not quite that simple.

Like Karen, I often describe myself as a 100% Banana. Like, you would probably never find a less Chinese-speaking Chinese in Malaysia. And it’s a question I’ve been asked all through my life.

“Why don’t you speak Chinese?” 

I blame my father’s side of the family. (My dad is the one on the left.) My grandfather lost his parents to the Japanese occupation in Johor as a teen and my grandmother came to Malaysia alone also as a teen. Without family and community, both of them fell out of touch with their cultural heritage. They spoke Cantonese at home whilst living in Ipoh, but my dad 'forgot' how to speak Cantonese when he moved to Penang as a teen.

So, I grew up in an English-speaking Christian household (which means you don’t practice Chinese customs which are inherently Buddhist or Taoist) and attended a Sekolah Kebangsaan, or national school—but it was a Methodist school, which counted as “English-Ed”.

I lived in a very white-presenting bubble. Technically, we had all races—Malay, Chinese, Indian—but we spoke English to each other. And of course, enjoyed our banana leaf rice.

It wasn’t until I was in the US for a work thing that two things became very clear. For all I’m immersed in White culture, I’m too Asian to be White. Fair enough. And then I visited a Chinese-speaking church in San Jose and realised how un-Chinese I was, even though I was actually from and based in Asia.

Now, this is the hard thing—at least for me. If you are diaspora who grew up in Britain, or in Australia, or in North America, it’s easier to reconcile some of that dissonance. You’ve chosen the cultural affiliations associated with the country you or your parents migrated to.

I am very firmly rooted in Malaysia. What excuse do I have?

“Why don’t you speak Malay?”

This is where the bubble comes in—for all that the Chinese diaspora is so thoroughly Malaysian (and quite proud of it), it’s usually the food and celebrations that are highlighted. Not the language. Instead of Bahasa Malaysia being the common ground, we often just revert to English, especially in church bubbles.


I mean, technically, I’m bilingual. I learnt Malay for eleven years in school. I read the language better than I speak it. Yet for all practical purposes, I’m monolingual.



As a writer—and even before I started writing—language has formed a very core part of my identity. I count myself as a native speaker, English as my mother tongue, even though it won’t be officially recognised anywhere. Without it, I don’t know who I am. It’s a poor excuse, I know.

But honestly, I’m afraid. I’m one of those terribly timid people who won’t do a thing because of fear of embarrassment. And besides change, language is my biggest fear.

I only have one trick: my words, in English.

I’ve been reading books by people of colour recently—written in English, not translations—and I’ve come to realise this. English, as written by the whites, has become quite sterile. It’s dead, rooted in Shakespeare and the Bible, even if they’re not quite aware of it.

These books aren’t.

My reviews can be found under this tag: https://blog.annatsp.com/search/label/WNDB

They’re unapologetic about the words they use, about the cultural ideas they represent, and the languages they slip in. (Take notes! Read These Books!)

There is a level of acceptance of dialect and slang in literature, a sort of hierarchy of languages. As long as it’s a White dialect (Yorkshire, Irish, Midwest, Shakespearean) or Euro-centric (Latin, French, Italian)—maybe a little Spanish, but not too much—it’s okay. Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot is allowed his quaint sayings. Huckleberry Finn is “natural”.

But add in some Tamil or Malay or Chinese and it’s like oh my God, why do you have all these weird foreign words? It’s so unrelatable.

But diversity is what people are looking for now. People of colour are looking to see themselves represented in fiction—and it can’t just be the colour of their skin. Not just being the token brown guy. It has to also be the way they speak, the way they mix languages, the thoughts and feelings that cannot be divorced from who they are.

We read to make sense of the world, to discover who we are. But even more, we write to discover who we are, who we are becoming. Even if it’s only to say that we’re leaving parts of our heritage behind. It happens.

Language has always evolved. English is one of the stupidest, most annoying languages to learn whether spoken or written because it has absorbed and Anglicised so many 'foreign' words that they’re not even aware of it. There are many native Englishes because it’s spoken all around the world thanks to colonisation.

What we should be working towards now is to recognise the beauty of these variants and use them in fiction—to create works of art instead of upholding this so-called hierarchy of languages.

Stolen from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Englishes
Malaysia is part of the Outer Circle.

There’s a difference between a heart language and one that you’re using solely for communication. We need to allow the diaspora—they need to allow themselves—to write in their heart language, the one that comes out of them in their comfort zone, even if it’s a creole that only their community gets. To be empowered to tell their stories in their languages—even if it isn’t “proper” English!

When I think about a decolonial future, I think about these voices in Malaysia who switch from English to Malay to Chinese to Tamil with ease, who bask in bilingual puns, and poke fun at their own cultures, yet are united because of their security in their national identity, no matter what language they speak.

Oh yeah, and that one token white guy because we can.

#bookreview: Floating Petals | Leela Devi Panikar

Floating Petals by Leela Devi Panikar
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Floating Petals is an eclectic mix of short stories. Shifting from slice-of-life to horror, to the almost fantastical, you're never quite sure what you'll be getting next. Despite its dreamlike title, Floating Petals isn't quite a happy book: the 14 stories contained here mostly touch on dark themes, whether its the cruelty of bound feet, unhappy marriages, murder, or death.

Actually, death features quite a lot.

Leela's prose is tight, economical. There's a strong sense of place, whether the story wanders through Hong Kong (where she first published this book) or Malaysia (where she grew up), in the city or out in rural farmlands. Having lived in various countries, she scatters her prose with Cantonese phrases, Indian terms and Malaysian sensibilities, making it a wonderful window into life on this side of the world.

View all my reviews

#musicmonday: The Coffee or Tea playlist | PLUS a Summer Fantasy Giveaway!

Submissions for NutMag 2: Coffee or Tea? has closed and the MYWriters Penang team has voted and I'm getting round to making the final decisions, so here's the playlist of coffee and tea songs I rounded up as inspiration.



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Whilst you wait for results, Andrew Q Gordon's Summer Fantasy Giveaway starts today!
If you're looking to grab a copy of Coexist (plus a lot of other fun fantasy books) head over HERE.

The Flame of the North releases today!

The Flame of the North is out there in the wild!

About the book:
Ten-year-old Mica hates the cold. Yet he’s bound by duty—and prophecy—to rule over the City of Winter as his grandfather’s heir. All signs seem to indicate that something is wrong and the reappearance of the Yuki-Onna in the Painted Hall is an additional worrisome detail…

The Flame of the North (North #2) follows Danis & Hana’s son as he attempts to fulfil the last portion of Dragon’s Prophecy.

Find out more: The North Series

BUY NOW!
Amazon | Kobo | iBooks | Barnes and Noble | Google Play | Smashwords

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In conjunction with Flame's release, and because I haven't had a giveaway in a while, here's a rafflecopter!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

What's Skyping Back in Time, you ask?

Well, Skyping Back in Time is a MG story written by a fellow Malaysian Writer, Agnes Ong. It won the Merit Award in the 2014 Calistro Prize and is a really lovely read. (Agnes also features in my book, Love in Penang, so obviously I like her writing :p) As far as I know, the only place you can buy this book is from the author herself.
Because I hardly ever keep children's books on my shelf AND I wanted to help a fellow Malaysian writer, I decided that I'll give it away to someone on the Internet! But someone on the Internet who lives in Malaysia because shipping is expensive, yo.

AAAANNNYYYWAAAYYYYY Giveaway is up for a week. Good luck!

(P/S: check back tomorrow for my review on Skyping Back in Time)

2016: a year in review

In preparation to write my year in review post, I went back through my archives and realised that I've actually been doing this for a long time.

Here are the previous year-in-review posts:
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015

So... what can we say about 2016?

Click to enlarge

Starting with the blog, simple maths says that this blog has garnered 48.6K views this year, which really goes to show that last year was an anomaly. And because I have apparently rediscovered my love for analysing figures and making graphs, here's a graph which shows you 2015 was weird:

Then again, my all-time top posts are mainly from 2015, so... *shrug*

Other than the A-to-Z blogging challenge (which I started doing in 2011!), this year's blog has primarily consisted of 3 types of posts:

• #musicmonday 
• Wednesday's #bookreview 
• #fridayflash posts

I have to admit, I mainly slacked with the flash posts because... well... lazy. And busy. And writing other things. But since the book reviews have been mostly consistent until December, here's a round up of my favourite books for the year!

Well, there were actually 16 5-star books, but the last one couldn't fit in my screenshot :P 

I don't actually know how Goodreads arranges these but here they are in alphabetical order on Amazon (affiliate links):

A Thousand Perfect Things (Kay Kenyon)

Beguilement [The Sharing Knife] (Lois-McMaster Bujold)

Book Launch Blueprint (Tim Grahl)

Cinder (Marissa Meyer)

Dissolution (Lee S. Hawke)

Indie Author Survival Guide (Susan Kaye Quinn) - there might be a 3rd edition out but I can't seem to find it

Just One Damned Thing After Another (Jodi Taylor)

Little Lord Fauntleroy (Frances Hodgson Burnett) - such a classic

Subversive Jesus (Craig Greenfield)

Take Back Tomorrow (Richard Levesque)

The Blind Pig (Elizabeth Dougherty)

The Ladybird Book of Dating (Ladybirds for grownups) - okay, this was a bit of a joke, but it's HILARIOUS

The Man with Two Pasts (Dan Rix) - this is the last book in a series, FYI. But it's a good series!

The Princess and the Captain (Anne-Laure Bondoux)

The Untold Tale (JM Frey) - OWAITOWAITBOOK2JUSTRELEASED

Zoe's Tale (John Scalzi) - this is book 4 in a series, but I read it without reading any other book of the series!

To read all my flash fiction for the year, follow this tag.

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Writing-wise, several things happened this year.

 

 

I released Coexist on 31 March 2016 with a semi-successful blog tour. (Okay, I don't know how successful it was, but I think it was successful? But maybe not, because several months later a friend says oh, I didn't know you launched.) At any rate, I have just approved a quotation to do a print run in Malaysia, so that should be out sometime... I don't know. January? Hopefully.

I wrote and released Anna's A to Z of Worship Leading, which was written for the A to Z blogging challenge, in May 2016.

Working with the Malaysian Writers Society (MYWriters) in Penang, we launched the first volume of NutMag, an annual zine which features writings from Penang! I had the privilege of editing this volume, and one of my flash fiction pieces is also included in the list of 10 authors.

I also sold a short story to Insignia Stories, but I'm not quite sure when that's going to be released. I was hoping it would round out the end of the year.

Lastly, Love in Penang (which I edited) is #58 on Fixi's all-time bestseller list, with something like 6.5K sales total (according to the publisher), whilst Cyberpunk: Malaysia (which includes a short story of mine) is at #82.

On to unpublished stuff, Flame of the North is also mostly done, just waiting for a cover and the editor. Dongeng is on its first draft and Absolution is kind of in the pits. But I'll get back to that in 2017.

I also submitted to a bunch of places this year and whilst half of them were rejections, one was an acceptance (Insignia, as above) and the rest are probably rotting electronically in the slush pile, I'm kind of happy with the volume of work I've produced. Even with the other whole bunch of non-starters and half-abandoned ideas. I really should start tracking my word count.

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Community-wise, the Malaysian Writers Society is A THING, like a real legit registered society, okay. And while we're still working out the kinks and trying to set things up right, it's still awesome cos it's happening, if you know what I mean.

Want to be a member? Here's how!

You can apply for membership here.

We pulled off registrations and a fest in Sept & Oct, leaving a lot of people very frazzled. I also got to lead a workshop on Self-Publishing! Woohoo!

In Penang, our events are moving at full force with weekly write-ins on Mondays at LUMA, a monthly write-in on the weekends (Sat/Sun - we swapped quite a bit this year) and not-quite monthly readings on the 3rd Thursday of the month. Not-quite monthly because we have a quarterly special which is often just a catchup/makan session. Oh! We also instituted the monthly critique as part of the Monday write-ins, which sometimes works but sometimes not. Oh well.

And, of course, the MOST EXCITING PART: our drop-in writing space at LUMA during the last week of November was an absolute BLAST.

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I also went back to acting for a short while, doing W;T with the Penang Players.

One of our publicity shots. 

I also turned down a chance to act with them in 2017 because I didn't like the script. But maybe I'll go for another audition in Feb. I don't know. I DON'T KNOWWWWWW. I might be in a cave by February trying to align timelines and stuff, so, yeah.

We (I) also tried to kick-start (again) a drama team in church, but whilst we did do one show during Occupy Beach Street and in church followed by a Treasure Hunt for Christmas Eve, I don't know how or if it's going to work out. Right now, I'm thinking it's a non-starter.



I also joined a choir.

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I don't really know what else to add here. I think I've covered the main stuff: blog, writing, acting... I updated my website (again) and created another website and if you think it's pretty, it's only because of the wonders of drag-and-drop templates. And canva.com, which makes life simpler.
And this post is getting too long.

So, goodbye, 2016. You have been an interesting year.