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Q&A (& Giveaway) with Michael Shou-Yung Shum,
author of Queen of Spades

“‘Strange,’ muttered Mannheim behind him. ‘You think you’ve seen it all, and then something comes along and shatters all your pre-established notions.'” ~ from Queen of Spades by Michael Shou-Yung Shum

The gamble. In one way or another, you are always playing the odds. As soon as the traffic light turns yellow, you quickly gauge your distance and press on. If you’re a writer, you send a story out a hundred times with the conviction that soon one acceptance will override all those rejections. Or, if you’re me in the late eighties and trying to procure the attentions of a handsome young man, you debate whether or not to pick up the phone by flipping a quarter. Heads you call, tails you don’t. And even while you lose with each flip, you don’t give up, the phone an object of incessant mockery. So you push at chance: 3 out of 5, 5 out of 7, 10 out of 15. Ignoring the loss, you call anyway, the flick of your thumb just an exercise in show.

The casino. A different kind of gamble but a game all the same, and a scenario that we assume we can predict: a shadowed room, a row of seated bodies hypnotized and staring into the lights of slot machines or the faces of the cards.

But in Queen of Spades, Michael Shou-Yung Shum’s debut novel (Forest Avenue Press, 2017), with its story set in Seattle and the fictional Royal Casino, we discover a different side of the experience and a new understanding of the inner workings of the people, the players, the place.

A story told from the perspectives of the dealers and those closest to the game of chance, Queen of Spades unveils a little of the casino magic, only to tease us with more. We are quickly caught up in the tales of a quiet and focused Arturo Chan, a bold and speculative and desperate Chimsky, Barbara on the straight and narrow (and then not), the elusive Countess, and more.

I’m thrilled to host Michael Shou-Yung Shum to talk about his debut novel. And, there’s a giveaway: a copy of his book for one lucky reader (courtesy of Forest Avenue Press)! Check out recent praise about Queen of Spades here (including notes from the Library Journal, which recognizes the book’s “high seriousness and humor”). Then, ENTER the giveaway by Tuesday, October 31st.

Now, welcome Michael Shou-Yung Shum!

Christi Craig (CC): Queen of Spades is your debut novel, so we assume that this is a work of fiction. But in the first chapter, you write that this story is a retelling of events shared with you by the protagonist Arturo Chan, whose memories you “distilled through fictional conventions of timing and characterization” (immediately evoking in readers a sense of curiosity and mystery). As you began piecing this story together, did you pull from an amalgamation of true characters encountered in your own experiences at the tables, or as a collage of events imagined while immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of the casino en masse?

Michael Shou-Yung Shum (MSS): One of my goals in writing the novel was to enchant the experience of gambling, a topic that is often disenchanted when it comes to fiction (think gritty tales of realism that describe down on their luck protagonists getting more and more in the hole…). I wanted to do the opposite with my novel, which is to invest aspects of real-life experience with, as you say, curiosity and mystery—to “enchant” those experiences, in other words. So yes, I did pull from real-life people I’ve come across—for example, the Countess is a very stylized and enchanted version of a “regular” who used to come to the casino where I worked every day, an old woman who sat at the poker table coughing up a lung and glaring at the other players. Her name was Barbara, by the way, so the character of Barbara was a kind of reimagining of this player when she was young, in the 1980s.

CC: In considering the characters of your novel, are you more like Jean-Paul Dumonde, who insists a pattern exists in everything and the goal is to uncover it and pursue it? Or are you more like Chan, who perceives and at heart believes in the “odd sense of the connectedness of things. . . . the contingency of moments, of events, and of people” (a pattern to be sure, but one controlled entirely by unpredictable forces)?

MSS: I think I am a bit of all my characters! I definitely have a deliberate, methodical side and also a side that craves mystery and the unknowability of things—in other words, I both want to know and discover, and also not know and experience. I actually think Chan and Dumonde are more similar than they are different, which may be one reason they get along both so poorly and so well.

CC: Your novel is based on Pushkin’s short story, “Queen of Spades.” As someone with a  PhD in Psychology and one in English (amazing!), what role do fables play in the world of someone who views life through the lens of human behavior and man’s love of literature?

MSS: If you study fables, common forms and figures will emerge that will tell you a great deal about the interplay between culture and the development of the human psyche. I do like questioning where our stories come from, and where they can go.

CC: What are you reading these days?

MSS: I keep a tall, ever-changing pile of books on the bottom shelf of my nightstand. Some of them currently are:

  • Stein, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas
  • Bergen, How To Become A Ventriloquist
  • de Certeau, The Possession at Loudun
  • Banks, Settlement Nurse
  • Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulu and Other Weird Stories
  • Watterson, Ventriloquisms

CC: You and your wife, Jaclyn Watterson, are both authors (Congratulations to her on her debut collection of stories, Ventriloquisms!). In a house of two writers, I imagine there are plenty of discussions on story and craft. The question is…do you ever debate the quality of a good pen? And is it ball point, gel, or fountain?

MSS: Jackie and I do work closely, although on paper, our writing appears quite different. We both love a good gel-point pen, but we mostly use pencils. 

~

Born and raised in Houston, Texas, Michael Shou-Yung Shum eventually found himself dealing poker in a dead-end casino in Lake Stevens, Washington. Two doctorates bookend this strange turn of events: the first in Psychology from Northwestern, and the second in English from the University of Tennessee. Along the way, Michael spent a dozen years in Chicago, touring the country as a rave DJ, and three years in Corvallis, Oregon, where he received his MFA in Fiction Writing. He currently resides in Astoria, Queens, with Jaclyn Watterson and three cats. Queen of Spades is his first novel. Visit his website for more on his book and other published works.

Don’t forget! Enter the book giveaway for a chance to win a copy of Queen of Spades.

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Cover Reveal & Excerpts: Broad Knowledge,
a new anthology from Upper Rubber Boot Books

Whether you’re a writer or a reader, you know the power of a good book cover.

Authors will spend hours agonizing over the slant of the title’s font or two images almost exactly the same, all in an effort to choose the cover that best sells a story. Readers, in turn, skim the shelves, stopping at the first one that catches their eye.

So, the key? Design a book cover that will, according to Seth Godin, “tee up the reader so the book has maximum impact.” Especially from across the store, or in the mix of twenty others in a row.

The cover of a new anthology on the horizon, Broad Knowledge (Upper Rubber Boot Books), does exactly that: catches the eye, raises the eyebrows, and pretty much demands you fan the pages. I’m partnering with Upper Rubber Boot Books today in hosting the cover reveal for Broad Knowledge. And, you also get the feel of standing in the bookstore with a sneak peek at two excerpts from the 35 collected stories.

Now, for the cover.

(I wish I was tech-savvy enough so I could say, Click and Watch the image turn.

Instead, I make you scroll…)

…. (!)

About the book: Edited by Joanne Merriam, Broad Knowledge: 35 Women Up To No Good is a feminist anthology featuring “35 stories of ‘bad’ women, and ‘good’ women who just haven’t been caught yet.” Thirty-five tales of strange, dark, a hint of horror. But the best part? This isn’t just a collection of stories about women, it’s a collection of stories by women–all taking a bold stance in literature.

Read the excerpts below, then check out the Table of Contents for the entire list of stories and authors. You can also follow publication news of Broad Knowledge at Upper Rubber Boot Books’ website or on Twitter (@upperrubberboot).

EXCERPTS

From “Mary In the Looking Glass” by Laura E. Price

Clara doesn’t remember not knowing about the lady in the mirror. Mary with the bloody eyes. Mary with the long, sharp fingernails. Mary with the pointed teeth. She died in an accident. Her husband killed her. She killed her baby. She’ll tell you your sins, she’ll scratch you, she’ll haunt your house, she’ll kill you if you call her. Why does anyone call her? I’m not scared, I’m sooo drunk, I’ll do it.

I’ll do it. Clara always did it.

Because sometimes the Mary who came was young and bleeding from a cut on her head. Or her eyes were all blood, her hands reaching out to rip and tear. Once she held her head in her own hands. Clara’s breath always caught at the sight of her, even when all she saw was her own face reflected over Mary’s, deep down in the mirror. She was beautiful, bloody and rageful and sad and so, so tempting for it.

The first time Clara touched her, Mary shuddered hard and looked at her from empty, bloody sockets. The other girls crouched, whimpering in the corner of the dormitory bathroom, screams still in the air, as Clara touched Mary’s arm, then gently, carefully, so slowly, put a hand to her face.

Her flesh was cool. The blood was sticky and stayed on Clara’s hand after Mary fled back into the mirror; Clara hated that the girls made her wash it off. None of them talked to her after that, but she didn’t care because now and then, at night, as she walked down the hall, she could see Mary’s translucent face watching her from the window glass.

She left flowers at the windows. Daffodils and Queen Anne’s lace. She left candy near the mirrors; she left poems on pastel paper; soft, rose-scented sachets. And during a school break, her roommate away on a trip and the dorm practically empty, Clara saw Mary in the mirror above her dresser, watching. Smiling. Eyes in sockets but blood on her cheeks nonetheless.

Clara pulled everything off the dresser top and whispered, over and over, I believe in Mary Whales. Mary came closer and closer; Clara’s breath sped up, her belly warmed, and when Mary broke through her mirror and climbed over the dresser, she could barely think for wanting to put her hands and mouth on that cool, sticky skin.

Mary tasted of blood, but just at first, then she tasted of sweat and a little of dirt. She moved uncertainly, but Clara was bold and soon Mary was, too. At the end of the week, everything was back on the dresser, and Clara’s skin was covered in thin red scratches.

From “The Ladies in the Moon” by Xin Niu Zhang

“You know,” Paul begins at length, after I politely refuse a blunt, “before we were born, folks were freaked out about the Earth dying. Overpopulation. Global warming. Planet getting scorched.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I exhale, wishing I had another drink instead of the stench of weed. “But then! The Initiative. Growth. Space colonies. Hallelujah.”

“Hallelujah,” he repeats, wry. “Except not. You know what I think? I think this shithole of a planet is still dying, and all of us with it.”

“Not the biggest news to me, Paul.”

“Well, maybe someone can save it.” He shrugs, ignoring my laugh. “One thing I know, though—I sure as hell am not sticking around to see if this place survives.”

That shocks me out of my bout of cynicism. I meet his gaze, disbelieving. “You’re getting away? To one of the colonies?”

“Boss got his name on the list,” Paul says, maddeningly calm. “Moon. Sector 8. Procured some spots for his family. Me. Roy and the boys.” He directs a smoke ring politely away from my face. “We’re up and ditching this whole city in just two days. Going straight to the Capital HQ, preparing for the summer expedition. None of the other Solars know. Not even Steve and his pop.”

Translation: they’re abandoning us to scramble in their absence. Rival gangs would overtake our turf in days. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You’ve always been a good kid, Fletch.” He smiles wearily at me. “You keep your head down, do good work. Boss thinks you got merit. Could be a great soldier someday. Maybe engineer. Like one of the original smart guys who got us to Mars.”

Merit. All I did today was hassle a stupid kid and collect a paycheck. I don’t see a lot of skill in that, but I sure as hell am not going to correct him.

Paul seems to read my mind. “You don’t understand it, Fletcher, but you got potential. You have a cool head, steady hands. That matters. So… boss thinks he can get you in.”

My heart stops.

I was expecting him to pass me the torch of leading the Solars, a consolation prize. Not this. A ticket off the scorched, dying, cigarette-smoking planet. Cretins like us, Anna had said. Raj, I thought. That boy’s eyes full of stupid hope.

Distantly, I hear Paul saying, “But you gotta decide now. Boss has one spot. You don’t want it, someone else is gonna get it. I told you when we’re leaving.”

I let loose a long, shaky breath. Wait for my heartbeat to come back. “What?” My lips twitch. “The boss won’t reserve the vacancy for me? Thought I was his favorite.”

“You’re his favorite.” Paul grins. “But the moon waits for no one.”

The second in the Women Up To No Good series, Broad Knowledge is forthcoming in spring 2018.

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Your Next Book Study:
The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass

“Emotional craft isn’t a repackaging of old writing bromides. It’s a way of understanding what causes emotional impact on readers and deliberately using those methods. It’s a way to energize your writing with tools that are always available: your own feelings.” ~ from The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass

What makes for a great story, strong prose or strong plot? Both. And then some.

I’ve read stories and books where, once at the end, I feel like I missed something. The imagery is there, the writing impeccable, the plot a real page-turner. But the book as a whole? Maybe I couldn’t put it down, but I probably won’t pick it up again either.

Having finished my current read on writing, Donald Maass’ The Emotional Craft of Fiction (Writer’s Digest Books 2016), it’s clear why a story may fall flat: the writer doesn’t go deep enough.

The writer (okay, I’ll say this writer) mistakenly assumes that writing in scene or using colorful details or well-planned white space are all you need to guide the reader along a protagonist’s rise or fall or road to redemption. Those techniques strengthen the story for sure, but as Maass says, “Strong writing doesn’t always produce strong feeling.” And that’s when the reader may lose interest.

So “dig deeper,” we often hear in critique. But what does that really mean? If you’re like me, you need specifics; you need concrete questions; you need relatable explanations.

Donald Maass offers all this and more in his new book on emotional craft, which is structured in a way best described as scaffolding. He begins with what many writers already know: the pros and cons of showing versus telling, the crucial tools of writing (like the art of voice and the importance of details), and aspects of plot–all necessary for a successful story. But then, he asks us to go beyond those essentials and infuse our fiction with an emotional journey that will hook the reader and leave him with a lasting impression.

He asks us to examine how we might surprise the reader. For example, reconsider details and incorporate the ones that carry the most emotional weight. Or, explore a character’s inner condition in more depth and show that through a description of the environment. That one really hit home for me, as I tend to focus on scene and setting to convey the tone of the story but forget about weaving in more pointed words or phrases that subtly reveal the character’s mood, not just what they see. Along with his suggestions, Maass incorporates a list of specific questions that will help writers work through these deeper explorations.

But most importantly, for me anyway, is the way Maass introduces new concepts (or new ways to look at old concepts) by tying them to our own every-day emotional experiences. He says, as humans, we are constantly in a state of change, our feelings are complicated, we reflect then act, act then reflect. These characteristics of humanity can be–and should be–an integral part of our stories. If we’re writing to connect, as so often we are (as so often I am), then why not build from what we and our readers already know, whether the story is fiction or not.

Okay, that last bit about whether we’re tackling fiction or not is something I added, because as with many craft books I’ve read, the learning I take away from these pages on emotional craft has begun to permeate other avenues of my writing. Maass focuses on fiction, specifically novels, and yes, I can see clearly why the novel I’m working on isn’t reading as well as I want (why it feels so sophomoric), but I am also considering his same questions and suggestions in my nonfiction.

I’m writing an essay about my experience swimming in Lake Superior and one on dismantling my mother’s home after she died. There are primary feelings attached to both of these events, but those basic emotions don’t tell the real story. As I look closer at what I’ve written, what manifests as anger may really be a mask for fear; what shows up as grief might later prove to be guilt. Underneath initial reactions to whatever event, there’s likely another more complicated, uncomfortable, revealing feeling.

There’s the crux of your story.

And that’s the key Maass gives us in his book: a better way to writing these more complex, disconcerting emotions that bring a reader closer to the story and kick-start the reader’s desire for self-reflection, so that your work becomes more than just a quick read, a well-written essay, a novel read once and forgotten.

There’s plenty more I could say, but I’ll leave you with a last (and another favorite) quote from the book that does exactly what Maass teaches throughout, one that hits on an emotion many struggling writers already understand, without telling us straight up what we’re reading about…hope:

…we have everything we need to tell stories full of human authenticity and emotional truth. . . . You don’t need more years, manuscripts, acceptance, likes, stars, movie deals, money, or anything else material to be a true novelist. You are that novelist already because you are human.

Buy the book, Check out one of Donald Maass’ upcoming three-day workshops on Emotional Craft. Start a book study with your most trusted writing friends. This paperback on craft is one worth keeping and re-reading.