Jessica Zibung Jessica Zibung i(11363529 works by)
Gender: Female
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Works By

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1 y separately published work icon Two Steps Forward by Graeme Simsion and Anne Buist Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2019 16682133 2019 single work criticism
1 y separately published work icon The Life to Come by Michelle de Kretser Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2019 16682039 2019 single work criticism
1 y separately published work icon Gravity Well by Melanie Joosten Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2019 16682008 2019 single work criticism
1 The Hypocrisy of Hybridity Jessica Zibung , 2018 single work essay
— Appears in: Overland , Spring no. 232 2018;

'The contradictions of my heritage would raise more questions than I felt comfortable discussing with a stranger. It’s considered bad manners to decline questions, yet apparently it’s reasonable for my identity to be an object of curiosity and scrutiny. These encounters were like a game of confessional dodgeball, with me trying to sidestep questions and steer the conversation away from my ‘exotic’ heritage.'   (Introduction)
1 y separately published work icon The Good People by Hannah Kent : Notes Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2018 13927190 2018 single work criticism
1 y separately published work icon The Healing Party by Micheline Lee : Notes Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2018 13927156 2018 single work criticism
1 y separately published work icon Skylarking by Kate Mildenhall : Notes Jessica Zibung , Melbourne : CAE Book Group , 2018 13925750 2018 single work criticism
1 Kuntilanak Jessica Zibung , 2017 single work short story
— Appears in: Pencilled In , no. 1 2017; (p. 15-17) The night air smelled stale and damp. It reminded Ibu of the pandan rice she left out yesterday. It will be sour by now , Ibu thought. She adjusted the sarong until it sat comfortably, flattening her sagging breasts. She sat back on her favourite rattan chair, enjoying how it had curved to the shape of her body. She thought about her visit to Bogor last week. As she made her way on foot into the kampung, a gaggle of children tugged on the ends of her sarong to ask for spare change. Ibu didn't have anything to give. She had brought just enough money to pay the Dukun, and he had accepted what little Ibu had in her savings tin. That day, Ibu learned that even the blackest of magicians were capable of compassion.
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