“Tell all the truth but tell it slant“
Emily Dickinson
Queen at the Far End of the Chessboard
Mixed Asian writer learning how to survive and thrive in the tragicomedy we call life. What can you expect from this page? Everything. Personal stories; examinations of trauma; short fiction; grammar tips; anecdotes about Cannabis Country; and most of all conversation.
I’m the owner of many questions and not enough answers to wear them all–which is where I invite you to share what you know.
What is your experience as a mixed person? What mode of economy/governance do you think best benefits citizens of a man-made island built out of water bottles? I encourage everyone to not only read, but converse, and share in what a former Literature teacher called, “The Great Conversation.”
Let’s get started.
Photo Credit: Sarama Keum Sun; January 1st, 2017 @ Lake Jennings, CA
Welcome! This is a brand new site and still under construction. In the meantime, please enjoy the narrative non-fiction essays under “The Personal.” I am excited to be here, and look forward to creating conversations and connections with all of your marvelous voices.
The Personal
Creative non-fiction that weaves the personal with the political.
The Fictional
Short fiction; excerpts from larger pieces.
The Technical
Lessons in grammar and writing; tips for submitting.
Interviews and Guest Posts
Essays and interviews from artists and professionals in their fields
Initiate Conversation Sequence
Writing prompts and interactive posts.
Services
Looking for critique on a personal work? Need a content creator? Click above.
In My Craft or Sullen Art
In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
With all their griefs in their arms,
I labour by singing light
Not for ambition or bread
Or the strut and trade of charms
On the ivory stages
But for the common wages
Of their most secret heart.
Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art.
Dylan Thomas
Connect
- SaramaKeumSun@gmail.com
(Write; don’t call.)
Offering
- Critiques, content reviews, sentence level-edits, general feedback of personal work
- Content creation
Contribute
Feel inclined to grace this blog with an article, poem, or story? Wonderful. My inbox awaits.
Sarama Keum Sun 