'Conspiracies, memes, and therapies of various efficacy underpin this beguiling short-story collection from Elizabeth Tan.
'In the titular story, a cat-shaped oven tells a depressed woman she doesn’t have to be sorry anymore. A Yourtopia Bespoke Terraria employee becomes paranoid about the mounting coincidences in her life. Four girls gather to celebrate their underwear in ‘Happy Smiling Underwear Girls Party’, a hilarious take-down of saccharine advertisements.
'With her trademark wit and slicing social commentary, Elizabeth Tan’s short stories are as funny as they are insightful. This collection cements her role as one of Australia’s most inventive writers.'
Source: Publisher's blurb.
'Whereas much scholarship still associates migrant fiction in Australia with social or documentary realism, this chapter emphasizes its playful, iconoclastic, and experimental qualities. It questions the conventional long form as a closed, stable narration that relies on summation and style. Instead it turns to short fiction, examining writers such as Tom Cho, Nicholas Jose, and Melanie Cheng who operate as transnational, experimental, and decolonial forces in Australian writing.' (Publication abstract)
(Introduction)
'Though its origins are unknown, the earliest sense of the word ‘quirk’ was as a subtle verbal twist or a quibble. Over time, its definition has become more nuanced: a quirk now also refers to a person’s peculiar or idiosyncratic traits, chance occurrences, and sudden, surprise curves appearing on paths or in facial expressions. Quirks can also be accidents, vagaries, witty turns of phrase.' (Introduction)
'As a frantic March rolled into an accepting April, sliding into a complacent May, the “apocalypse”, now boring, has disappeared into June. The “new normal” became old in the time it took to say the phrase; in supermarket aisles, I’m the only person wearing a mask. As if becoming bored of a virus could make it vanish.' (Introduction)
'ASMR. Personal brand. Hope this email finds you well. Selfie. Drop a pin on it. Livestreaming. Co-working space. I’m baby. Haul gals. Mukbang. Shall we take it to Zoom? Foodstagram. Scrolling through the feed. Geotagging. Doctor influencer. The cloud. Let me Google that for you. Finsta. I don’t have the bandwidth to do this. 10,000 followers. Chaotic energy. Airspace. Tag yourself. Is this idea futureproof? Legacy contact. #GIRLBOSS. You’re cancelled!' (Introduction)
'Grunge fiction in the 1980s and 90s featured young people living in grimy inner-city suburbs and colouring their discombobulation with drugs, booze and awkward or unfortunate sex. This kind of novel is no longer possible.' (Introduction)
(Introduction)
