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ByVajra Chandrasekera

Rhizomatic Diplomacy

Breathing was never going to get any easier, Kvora had told him when he was born complaining.

ByManuia Heinrich Sue

How We “Island” Our Writing: A Deep Dive Into Pacific Islander SFF

Pacific literature is often labeled “new” or “emerging,” but these terms—as well as the idea that SFF is contemporary to the region—couldn’t be more wrong. Literature has existed in various shapes in our islands long before colonization, from oral storytelling to tattooing, with folklore and legends coloring it.

ByMurtaza Mohsin

Interview with Author Murtaza Mohsin

A woman returns to the village she grew up in, promising its inhabitants salvation—and bringing them doom. Murtaza Mohsin's "The Flowering of Peace" pulls the reader along on Noor's quest for revenge, from fields of alien crops to the village square and back into the stars.

ByMurtaza Mohsin

The Flowering of Peace

So close to home, rich fold upon fold, the land rolled hot and heavy. Scruffy guava and taller kinnow trees lined up along the path to greet Noor upon her return to Phoolnagar.

ByLois Mei-en Kwa

The Matriarchs

The pilot of the psychopomp skiff moves through space so swiftly that time begins to speak to her. The message she receives from time is not something she can comprehend intellectually.

ByLois Mei-en Kwa

Episode 100: The Matriarchs

"The Matriarchs" by Lois Mei-en Kwa - published in Apex Magazine, issue 137, April 2023.

ByDee Nguyen

Interview with Artist Dee Nguyen

Many of the East Asian artists I’ve been admiring lately incorporate movement through background elements like flames, clouds, mountains, in ways that I find just breathtaking. With my own art, I want to instill that sense of levity and suspension, like the moment when a breath is drawn in and held, and so I try hard to do that in my compositions.

ByTehnuka

Loving Bone Girl

I met her too late to see her own unraveling, but I know she is still painstakingly rediscovering snapped threads of her past and turning them over, wondering what she might create from them.

BySydney Paige Guerrero

Liwani

When the air in Kaluwalhatian shifted with the final exhale of an old woman on the mortal plane, the thread fell through Liwani’s fingertips. A little more color bled out of her tapis, and her skin turned translucent, the bright red of the cloth she had been mending visible through her hands.