Unconventional Ghosts

I love ghosts. I’ve never met a ghost myself, so the best I can do is read about them. Why ghosts? Well, they don’t have to follow our rather tiresome rules of gravity and thermodynamics! They could do a loop-de-loop in the air, just for the fun of it. Maybe I’m a bit jealous…

There are many shades of ghost: vengeful ghosts, poltergeists, ghosts with the intent to improve the life of a living person à la A Christmas Carol… These are all fun in their own way, but I find it especially delightful when ghosts are given roles that betray their traditional raisons d’être–ghosts that are not strictly malicious, nor are just around to aid the protagonist. These ghosts are maybe just as complicated and multi-faceted as the humans who begat them.

It’s also interesting to see how authors answer fundamental ghost questions like: Why has the ghost come into existence? What makes the ghost different from a living person? What does the ghost want? The answers to these questions change dramatically from author to author and story to story. They also feel substantial, weighty. Making assumptions and declarations about ghosts is not so different from making assumptions and declarations about life. Like a Rubin vase, where the negative space around a subject becomes its own subject, writing about ghosts and death is a clever way of writing about life.

Anyway, here are some exciting and not-quite-traditional portrayals of ghosts.

Ghostwritten by David Mitchell

David Mitchell’s first novel is ghost-obsessed. “Ghost” is even in the title! But instead of offering a treatise on ghosts and ghostliness, Mitchell’s ghosts, or “noncorpora,” are hard to pin down. They come in many forms, sometimes existing independently and other times hopping from human to human, using bodies as a kind of macabre public transport. For part of the book, we follow one such noncorporum as it travels through rural Mongolia in the body of an American tourist. This particular noncorporum is a self-described “inhuman humanist” and provides some delightfully empathetic insights into the human condition.

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Sometimes when driving home, I’ll hang out in the left lane even if the right lane is moving faster. In my head, I’m thinking, “I know the left lane is faster!” when that’s clearly not the case. People are stubborn, and George Saunders doesn’t see any reason why ghosts wouldn’t be stubborn as well. The ghosts in Lincoln in the Bardo are so stubborn, in fact, they cannot come to terms with the reality of death. Their “sick-forms” (read: corpses) lie in “sick-boxes” (read: coffins) and only need rest. With just a bit more rest, they’ll emerge in tip-top shape and be able to resume their prior lives (read: they won’t). These circumstances may seem hopeless and wretched, but Saunders is able to deliver one of the most affecting and life-affirming conclusions I’ve read. A jewel of a book.

Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

Her Fearful Symmetry is a hoot. Unlike some of the other books mentioned here that use the otherworldly to contrast comically with the mundane, Her Fearful Symmetry wholeheartedly commits to flights of fancy. Romance and death intertwine and are taken to their melodramatic extremes. There are envious ghosts, faked deaths, identical twins posing as one another: everything you could possibly want in a story. It’s often absurd and always sublimely entertaining.

100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez

In 100 Years of Solitude, characters are haunted by their lineages. Decisions and dispositions repeat from generation to generation, entire lifetimes become ghostly echoes of the past. It is no surprise, then, that actual ghosts occasionally show up to haunt the residents of Macondo. Touchingly (and thematically), isolation is what brings several ghosts back from the dead. They return because they “could not bear the solitude,” or in another case, “the yearning for the living was so intense, the need for company was so pressing.” Human connection is so fundamental a force that not even death can stand in its way.

Welcome to the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut is a famed humanist, but he has mixed feelings about human bodies. Take Breakfast of Champions for example: the protagonist’s rapidly declining mental health is due to an abundance of “bad chemicals” in the brain. Or both Slaughterhouse-Five and Sirens of Titan, where characters’ cannot even rely upon their bodies to stay rooted in space-time. It’s no surprise then that he was interested in a world where humans are not subservient to their oft-malfunctioning bodies. Such is the conceit of the short story, “Unready to Wear,” found in the collection, Welcome to the Monkey House. A mathematician discovers a technique that allows one’s soul to be separated from their physical being and float about unburdened by corporeal whims.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

Ghosts can represent trauma, guilt, love, regret, suffering, anger, dehumanization–really anything if an author can realize their vision. But since ghosts can mean so many things, they have the potential to become unwieldy, or conversely, underbaked. Toni Morrison does not have this problem. The ghost in Beloved is loaded with nuanced meaning, compelling but elusive. This is a literary balancing act and a depiction of ghostliness so unique that it stands alone. Brutal, beautiful, and haunting.

Unorthodox Aliens

Reading science fiction can be overwhelming — what on earth is a chrono-synclastic infundibulum? Despite the tough jargon and speculative concepts, it’s quite an inward-looking genre. These stories typically loop back around to reflect something about ourselves — an assumption or expectation or fear that could use some interrogation. Aliens are possibly the most overt display of this narrative device. They are funhouse mirror versions of ourselves: the same but different. Aliens carry all the social, cultural, and political baggage we tend to associate with Otherness, but evoke sympathy too. At the end of E.T., are we not puffy-eyed to see that strange creature, who’s been nurtured and accepted, finally return home?

And don’t we all feel like E.T. — an alien, a pariah — in some way?

Here are some novels and stories that feature subtle and unconventional alien characters.


Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut loves his unorthodox aliens. Hand-shaped Tralfamadorians play a significant role in Slaughterhouse-Five, but I’d like to mention a minor alien race from Sirens of Titan. In a slight deviation from his main journey, protagonist Malachi Constant crash-lands on a planet populated by harmoniums: flat, kite-shaped beings that cling to cave walls and only perceive the world through touch. They communicate with limited telepathic abilities and are able to send two possible messages:


The first is an automatic response to the second, and the second is an automatic response to the first.
The first is, “Here I am, here I am, here I am.”
The second is, “So glad you are, so glad you are, so glad you are.”


Hyperion by Dan Simmons

Hyperion borrows its framing device from The Canterbury Tales. Its narrative unfolds as each of six pilgrims tells their portion of the story on their way to the time tombs, where they plan to confront the omnipotent Shrike. The Shrike fits your evil-monster-alien archetype (with some twists along the way), but there are other alien beings that populate the many planets of Hyperion. Most poignant is Simmons’ depiction of a human race that has lost its home: the Earth. They become aliens in their own right, establishing new civilizations around the galaxy but ultimately “alienated” in one way or another.


Stories of Your Life and Others by Ted Chiang

“Story of Your Life,” from the short story collection Stories of Your Life and Others, is about language, specifically the field of science known as linguistic relativity. Researchers in this field try to determine whether the language we use affects the way we think. For example, some languages describe time using distance terms (like “short” and “long”) and others describe time using quantity related terms (like “much” or “little”). A study from 2017 concluded that, under certain circumstances, these language differences result in actual differences in time perception.

Chiang takes this idea to its extreme and introduces an alien race that communicates in a completely circular language. As a result, these aliens perceive time as though it were a circle, living the entirety of their lives simultaneously- past, present, and future.

What if a human were to learn their strange and powerful language? “Story of Your Life” was adapted into the 2016 film Arrival.


The Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu

Some might be familiar with Ken Liu’s translation work. He’s best known for the English translation of The Three-Body Problem, a sci-fi epic by Liu Cixin (now a Netflix Original). He also writes novels and short stories that blend sci-fi, fantasy, and folklore.

His short story collection Paper Menagerie opens with “The Bookmaking Habits of Select Species.” The title says it all — how might alien races create persistent representations of their language and thoughts? I particularly like how he describes the Allatians: they stick their proboscis onto an impressionable surface, and as they speak, their proboscis vibrates and etches a groove into the surface. To read what another Allatian has written, one drags their own proboscis through the groove, and a hollow part of their skull amplifies the sound; the voice of the writer is recreated.


The Book of Strange New Things and Under the Skin by Michel Faber

Aliens are a recurring theme in Michel Faber’s writing. His 2014 novel, The Book of Strange New Things, takes place on a far-away planet that has been introduced to Christianity. Missionary Peter Leigh becomes the new minister of a docile alien congregation but struggles to reconcile his ecclesiastical commitment and the guilt of leaving his wife back on Earth, where climate change and political turmoil conspire to topple civilization.

Under the Skin, Faber’s first novel, paints a darker portrait of humanity (or alienity, ha). It’s the kind of book that holds its cards close and lets the reader marvel (and shudder) as the story progresses.

Faber presents a kaleidoscope of Otherness; themes of exploitation, gender, immigration, class politics, and animal cruelty are woven throughout and explored with satirical levity. The book was loosely adapted into a movie of the same name in 2013 with Scarlett Johansson.


Which “Unorthodox Aliens” am I missing? Let me know in the comments section below.

Haunting Fiction: 10 Dark Tales to Chill You This Fall

My backyard is full of fallen leaves, and the home improvement stores are full of animatronic skeletons. It’s the time of year when I can unabashedly indulge in my love of horror. Gothic horror. Psychological horror. Cosmic horror. Anything that lets me experience tension and dread, at least within the safe little confines of fiction. Gore and gross-out horror doesn’t really do it for me. I prefer the supernatural, the otherworldly, stories that tap into the basic human fear of the unknown. There’s nothing like the existential terror that comes when you dare to look into the void – and you see it looking back at you. But it’s still fiction. You still get to put it back on the shelf and go about your life after you read that last page.

Or do you?

Here are the stories that have haunted me the most: tense and dark tales that unfurl like a beautiful piece of black silk.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (1898)

A governess is sent to an isolated country manor to care for a pair of young orphans, and she begins to believe that the children are being visited by spirits with malevolent intent. This is a classic ghost story whose ambiguity has provided more than a century’s worth of analysis and adaptation, most recently in the form of Netflix’s The Haunting of Bly Manor in 2020.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (1959)

You may know Shirley Jackson from your 11th grade reading assignment of her short story The Lottery, but this novel set the bar for modern gothic horror. It’s a classic haunted house story that has influenced writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Stephen King, and Neil Gaiman.

Ghost Story by Peter Straub (1979)

A group of aging men gathers once a week to tell ghost stories – but one ghost from their shared past seems to be coming back for revenge. Straub hooks you in from the first scene and builds masterfully in one of the best-written horror stories you’ll ever read.

Everything’s Eventual by Stephen King (2002)

Some point to The Shining and The Stand as King’s best works, but I have always been a fan of his shorter fiction, such as the terrifying novella The Mist. Everything’s Eventual is a strong contender for my favorite of his short story collections. Its best tales are about a boy who meets the devil, a painting that keeps changing in disturbing ways, and a skeptic’s night in a supposedly haunted hotel room.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (2005)

The core story of House of Leaves involves a family who moves into their new house and discovers it’s bigger than they think. Their story is told in a documentary video, which is described and analyzed in an unfinished academic manuscript by another person, which itself is transcribed and footnoted by yet another person. It’s a structurally weird book that’s just as disorienting as the house itself.

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher (2020)

It’s no coincidence that the horror genre – that safe box of fiction where you can explore fear without real-life consequences – exploded in the wake of the very real global pandemic, and the last few years have borne plenty of new and terrible places to explore. This story revolves around a recently-divorced woman who discovers a hidden door in her uncle’s museum of curiosities. The door leads to an alternate reality that is not quite right. It’s thoroughly creepy in a Lovecraftian way, and the quirky characters inject some humor into this otherwise unsettling read.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones (2021)

Four Blackfeet men break a promise during elk hunting season, and now that promise is coming back to haunt them in a very real way, picking them off one by one. It’s pretty gory, but not gratuitously so, and the supernatural elements, the nuanced treatment of Native culture, and the quality of writing were compelling enough for me to overlook the more graphic parts. It’s also one of those stories that surprises you by ending with love and unexpected tears. (Yes – it’s okay to cry at horror.)

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo (2021)

Andrew is haunted by the revenant of his best friend Eddie, who suddenly died right before Andrew was about to join him in Nashville. Andrew takes Eddie’s place in his house, his graduate program, and his circle of fast-living friends as he tries to uncover the truth of what happened. There’s a Southern gothic setting, romantic tension so thick you could slice it up and eat it, and a host of queer characters who are not punished for their queerness, but whose acceptance of themselves leads them to happiness. This slow burn is more moody than scary, and it’s a refreshing and thoroughly enjoyable read.

The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward (2021)

In a boarded-up house on a dead-end street lives a family of three. A teenage girl who isn’t allowed outside, not after last time. A man who drinks alone in front of his TV, trying to ignore the gaps in his memory. And a house cat who loves napping and reading the Bible. An unspeakable secret binds them together, but when a new neighbor moves in next door, what is buried out among the birch trees may come back to haunt them all. The parent in me found some parts difficult to read, but I needed to keep going and find out what was going on – and the ending completely turned it upside-down.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield (2022)

Miri thinks she has got her wife back, when Leah finally returns after a deep sea mission that ended in catastrophe. It soon becomes clear, though, that Leah may have come back wrong. Whatever happened in that vessel, whatever it was they were supposed to be studying before they were stranded on the ocean floor, Leah has carried part of it with her, onto dry land and into their home. Remember how I said it’s okay to cry at horror? Get your tissues ready, because this is also a heartbreaking story about love and grief.

Teen Volunteer Reviews: “Serpent & Dove” and “Powerless”

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin. Reviewed by SS ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Serpent & Dove is a fantasy romance novel following Louise Le Blanc and Reid Diggory. A few years ago, Louise ran away from her witch coven and tried to survive in Cesarine by forsaking magic and stealing. In Cesarine, witches are hunted, feared, and burned. On the other hand, Reid Diggory is Chausser, sworn to the Church to protect the people from witches. He’s only ever lived by the principle “thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”. When a chase gone wrong forces Louise and Reid to become tied together in marriage, the situation becomes much more dangerous. The war between the Church and witches has an ancient past, but when the pair’s feelings for each other grow, Louise realizes she must make a choice. And love might change everything.

I’ve been searching for a good romance novel in a fantasy setting. Recently, I’ve been reading a lot of realistic fiction romance, which is excellent, but sometimes the books just get a bit too real, which isn’t great. Hence the great search for a well-thought-out fantasy romance novel. When I read Serpent & Dove, I really loved it. I liked how the romance wasn’t immediate but rather a transition from hatred to tolerance to supporters and finally to lovers. It made the romance a lot more profound and more connected. I loved Louise’s character – the opposite of a “demure woman” – who Reid has always been surrounded by. She cusses like an old sailor, which I find quite funny, and Reid’s reactions to her actions are often quite comical. The only negative I have for this story is the beginning. The beginning was kind of abrupt, I had no context for what was happening, or why. However, once Reid and Louise got married, the story got into the swing of things. It’s also important to note that while this book is part of a trilogy, please stop reading after the Serpent & Dove. As many other readers have claimed, the other two books make you lose connections with the characters, and there is a lot of talking and no action. So while this book is truly unique, be aware that the next two will not live up to expectations. On that note, I think I would give this story four stars.

Powerless by Lauren Roberts. Reviewed by MP ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Powerless” by Lauren Roberts is the perfect romantic fantasy. Powerless follows Paedyn, a girl without powers, and Kai, a boy who hunts the powerless. Paedyn has to take part in a dangerous competition held at the castle. Kai is the prince. A romance starts to bloom. Expect enemies to lovers, pretty ball gowns, knife to the throat, dual points of view, and witty bantering!

Plot: While the plot is pretty simple and similar to the Hunger Games, it still manages to engage readers.

Characters: This book is primarily character-driven. Where the plot could be seen as bland, the characters make up for it. Being in Kai’s head was amazing. He’s amazing. I loved it. Paedyn was excellent, too. Dual point of view can be hit or miss, but I loved the use of it in this book. These characters are both grumpy and pretty morally grey. I love that combo. They both can be ruthless, but deep down, they are softies. Their romance is so sweet and extremely slow burn. It’s also full of tension as Kai kills people like Paedyn. They have many cute moments, such as a rock paper scissors game! Both characters are deep and compelling. They are not simply one-dimensional. Due to the first-person point of view, you get to understand their personality and get to know them well.

World-building: It’s quite simple, actually—think superheroes. The world is not one bit confusing (at least for me). If you’re new to fantasy, this book would be a great choice because it won’t overwhelm you. The world-building was minimal and simple.

Writing: The writing was gorgeous. I loved the pretty words, the metaphors, and the dialogue. Its poetic while being easy to understand. This book is highly quotable because of its beautiful sentences. The author is extremely talented.

Whether new to fantasy or not, this book is fresh and fun. You’ll adore the characters, root for them, and be at the edge of your seat for our girl, Paedyn. I know I was kicking my feet, smiling, and swooning. I read it twice because that’s how great it is!

Behind the Scenes: The Mark Twain American Voice in Literature Award

I never really need an excuse to read. It is my favorite pastime. I typically have an expanding “to be read” list and my nightstand is always covered by an unwieldy pile of books. At the start of this year, however, I was in a reading funk and couldn’t seem to finish any book I started. It was right around that time that I received an email from someone at the Mark Twain House looking for readers to help create the long list for the Mark Twain American Voice in Literature Award. The Mark Twain House has been giving the award out since 2016 to works of fiction that “speak with an American voice about American experiences.” I signed up to be a judge, hoping that this commitment to judging at least three titles on the list would motivate me to start reading again.

The list of titles to choose from was long and extensive so I decided to pick a variety of different genres. Crook Manifesto by Colson Whitehead was first on my list but to read that book, I needed to read the first in what will eventually be a three-part series, Harlem Shuffle.  Harlem Shuffle is set in Harlem from 1959-1964. For anyone who has read Colson Whitehead, it is a departure from his heavier works like The Nickel Boys. Harlem Shuffle follows the life of Ray Carney, a furniture salesman in Harlem with a dubious past, desperately trying to live a crime-free life. It is a funny, clever, and breezy crime novel, reminiscent of Chester Himes’s Harlem Detective Series.

The second in Whitehead’s series, Crook Manifesto takes place in the early 70s and the plot is centered around the protagonist, Ray Carney trying to score impossible to find Jackson 5 tickets for his daughter. Crime, violence, and comedy ensue. The two books in the series are both fun reads that give a great snapshot of New York City in the 60s and 70s. Whitehead still manages to portray issues of race, class, and police brutality, particularly during his description of the Harlem race riot of 1964 and the tension between the police and those active in the Black Power movement in the 1970s. There is no date set for the publication of the final book in the series, but I am awaiting its release to see if Ray Carney does eventually manage to stay on the straight and narrow.

The next book I read was a debut novel titled A Haunting in Hialeah Gardens, by Cuban American author Raul Palma. I was immediately intrigued by the title having grown up in Miami. The story follows Hugo Contreras who is mourning the sudden death of his wife as well as dealing with mountains of debt. Deeply immersed in the world of Santeria since he is a Babalawo, Hugo agrees to help the debt collector who has been tormenting him, who is in turn being tormented by a ghost, in exchange for clearing his debt. It is an absurd story, but also a very Miami story. The novel is a modern gothic tale, complete with hauntings, demonic possession, and highly accurate descriptions of the oppressive heat in Miami and endless rows of strip malls. It is scary at times with an ending easily left up to interpretation by the reader and a good read for anyone who wants a different kind of supernatural novel.

The last book I chose to read was Dearborn, a collection of short stories, also written by a debut author, Ghassan Zeineddine. I love short stories as a genre, so I was excited to dive into these ten stories chronicling the Arab American experience in Dearborn, Michigan. The stories were funny, sweet, poignant, and at times heartbreaking. Though focused on Arab American life, the stories often told a greater story about the immigrant experience more broadly. This was the book that I most enjoyed out of all the ones that I read and the one I chose to be considered for the prize’s long list. Zeinedine writes beautifully and I hope he chooses to publish more in the future.

The long list for the Mark Twain American Voice in Literature Award is up on their website. Unfortunately, Dearborn didn’t make the list but I am grateful for the experience of being a reader for this prize. I was able to discover novels I might not have read otherwise and it got me reading again.