If you answered "YES!" to both questions, you may be who we're looking for! Our usual cover designer is swamped this year so we're looking for someone new to design NutMag 5's cover! Check out the submissions page for this year's theme and our homepage for previous covers. Our budget for this year is RM150. If you're interested, send us an email at [email protected] telling us who you are and why you want to design for us. Don't forget to include samples of your work! Deadline: 31 July 2021 (Saturday) We closed our funding on 21 December 2020. A huge THANK YOU to everyone who has donated and shared our fundraising drive! Here's a shout out to all our Super Home Groan Supporters, whose names will also be appearing in the acknowledgements of our book. Aneeta Sundararaj Anne Lim Charles Chiam Charlie Tan Darren Teh David & Deborah Tan Eksentrika Evelyn Teh Joelle Saint-Arnoult Julya Oui Kang Chung Yee Krishnaveni K.K. Panikker Nancy Jenster Ong Lin Lin Phoon Lei Kuan Sebastian Colorado Sukanya Dhanarajan Tang Sui Lan Winston Lim Yasmin Bathamanathan Digital rewards have been released on Christmas, so if you donated at any of the digital levels, do check your emails! We launch Home Groan on FB at 10AM! See you there!
Today's the final day to pre-order Home Groan! As of last night (20 Dec, Sun) at 10pm, we are currently at 45%! There will probably be some variance between our current figures here and the actual, as we continue to match the funds received in our bank and paypal account with the forms, plus manual bulk pre-orders. Which is also a reminder: if any of you have sent us money but NOT filled up the form, please do so now so that we can make sure that you'll get your copies of Home Groan. aDDITIONAL sUPER hOME gROAN sUPPORTERSTang Sui Lan Charlie Tan To everyone who has been faithfully following our updates and resharing our posts, THANK YOU! See Week 1 and Week 2.5's Super Home Groan Supporters. All Catherine wanted was to be left alone. She sat in Gusto Café, wondering what to do with the ghosts in her house. An exorcism? By which religion? She still avoided James, though she was now on friendly-ish terms with Julia. Could an exorcism or cleansing remove one ghost but leave the other? An hour later, with no answers and half a cup of cold coffee left, she gave up and plodded uphill towards home. She was sweating by the time she reached her front door, wondering when she’d started thinking of it as home. Sometime after Valentine’s? Had visiting the columbarium changed something in her? The finality of their deaths had finally sunk in; maybe she could now accept that the house was really hers in this life, even if they still haunted it in their afterlife. The ever-present guilt still ate at her, though, especially now that she’d decided to stay. She needed to start looking for a job. Her savings and the conversion rate would keep her afloat for a while yet, but it wasn’t unlimited. Maybe she should have just sold the house and stayed in New Zealand. Or not spent so much upgrading the place if she were only going to move out again. What am I staying for? “Ah Meow, you need to go shopping.” “I’m fine, Jules.” “My niche is fuller than your shelves. You should stock up.” “On toilet paper?” Catherine had taken to reading the news aloud in the house. She would later wonder if Julia had been giving her a warning, but at the moment, she argued stubbornly with her ex-best friend. James wasn’t as kind. She still hadn’t said more than five sentences to him, but neither had he—that is, if you counted his oft-repeated sentence as one. It was as if he was stuck in a loop, unable to move on, unlike his twin. But now, James loomed over her, eerily like he used to in life, and said two words. “Go. Now.” Catherine found her feet carrying her up the stairs and to her car before she really thought about it. She fumed. Yet there was truth in what they said. Her shelves were bare and she should really think about filling them. She’d barely unpacked, living out of her many suitcases, half her things still at Nathan’s. If she were staying, she should move in properly. So she bought all the essentials of a proper kitchen: salt, pepper, rice, oil, light soya sauce, dark soya sauce, oyster sauce, chilli powder, curry powder (she pondered the rows of spices for a few minutes then decided to get the pre-mixed sachets), garlic, onions, ginger. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she was only cooking for herself anyway, just as she had been all those years. It had been a miserable, lonely life, and she’d often wondered what about her—what about James—had made it so difficult for her to make friends and fall in love again. She’d just buckled down to work, focusing on forgetting. Maybe it was the forgetfulness that had brought the isolation; she’d thought of filling her life with new memories, but making those memories had been the part she was afraid of. And now, she was back here. Living with the same old memories. Want to read the whole story? Click on the button below to get a copy of the anthology!
We're in the final days of our funding period! Here's another quick shout out to our recent Super Home Groan Supporters. (Check out Week 1's update for the first list) super home groan supporters (week 2.5)Sukanya Dhanarajan Kang Chung Yee Deborah & David Tan Aneeta Sundararaj Phoon Lei Kuan These awesome people will be acknowledged in the book, so if you'd like your name in our acknowledgements page as well, you can still do that by funding us at the Super Home Groan Supporter tier!
Penang islanders are notorious for forgetting that that strip of land on Peninsular Malaysia is also part of Penang. We're not making that mistake in Home Groan! Here's Winnie Cheng (ERYN)'s illustration of the Penang Ferry, based on Sukanya Dhanarajan's essay, The Mysterious Attraction of Penang, after which we take a stroll through Butterworth in Janaki's Journey (Krishnaveni K.K. Panikker). Janaki's Journey (Excerpt); Krishnaveni K.K. PanikkerAs Janaki continued walking, a young Malay boy approached her and asked if she needed bus tickets for Kuala Lumpur. This made her recall a tall, big sized Indian man during her schooling days who used to announce the arrival of the buses. Janaki and her friends loved the way he announced one particular bus that went to Bukit Mertajam. He would call out loud and clear, “Bukit, Bukit, naik Bukit, naik Bukit!” and everyone would know that the bus had arrived. Janaki shaded her eyes against the early morning sun glare and squinted to get a better view of the so-called Penang Sentral. She smiled to herself as she looked around. Everything was so high-tech and modern. The old train station was gone, replaced by neat and smart-looking trains and ample parking spaces. “Ok, it’s time to continue my journey.” She smiled gleefully as she stepped out of the station. The ringing tone of her handphone broke up her day-dreaming. “Hello girl,” Janaki answered softly. “Muthee, where are you now? Have you reached the bus station? We want to fetch you,” her granddaughter spoke excitedly. “I haven’t reached yet, girl. I will call you once when I am at the station,” the old woman lied with a twinkle in her eyes. “Muthee, are you sure you took the correct bus? Amma will kill us if you get lost. She doesn’t know you have taken the bus,” the young girl said worriedly. “Muthee, please tell me the bus number,” asked another young male voice sternly. “Young man, I am inside the bus and I cannot see the number. Don’t worry, I will be there in no time,” she replied. “Muthee, Amma said it is the Hungry Ghost season now and old people should not wander outside alone,” said a soft baby voice. “Don’t worry mol, the ghost won’t catch me,” she replied cheekily as she switched off her handphone and walked steadily with her opened umbrella over her head. Janaki smiled and shook her head as she thought of her Chinese daughter-in-law and her strict traditions and rituals. As she strolled, she realised the kampung houses were all gone. So were the mamak nasi kandar shop, the dobi, and the small Chinese shop that sold economy rice. There used to be a Shell and Esso Depot where the oil tankers drivers drove in and out nonstop, a LLN (now TNB) office, and the Straits Trading Co where workers of all races worked. There were no foreigners working in the foundry then, only Malaysians. Janaki’s father had worked in this foundry under the furnace department. He was a very hardworking man who took up two jobs—he had also been a part-time gardener at the nearby bungalows. The workers, including her father, had been given quarters according to their ranks near Allen Road but her father had opted to stay in the kampung because of their big family. Janaki walked past dull and lifeless shophouses with no history. There used to be many beautiful colonial style bungalows here, now flattened and replaced, also jeopardising the charms of the once-beautiful seaside. Want to read the whole story? Click on the button below to get a copy of the anthology!
“Write what you know.” That’s the most common writing advice one hears. But I also say, “Write what fascinates you.” The Goddess and the Sea is a story I wrote because Malaysian Chinese gods fascinated me. It began as a play called The Council of Eminent Gods. I had been reading Arthur Miller and Anton Chekhov, and decided to try my hand at writing a play. For Home Groan, I adapted it into a 3,000-word short story and changed the title completely. Chinese gods were absent in my Christian household, and that was why they fascinated me. But growing up, I would hear names like Tua Pek Kong, Natuk Kong, Ti Kong, Kuan Kong, and Kuan Yin. I decided to dig deep, and found through research that some of these deities were unique to the Chinese diaspora in Southeast Asia. Hence, I felt it even more important to write about them. In Penang, there is a famous temple called Kek Lok Si. It stands on a hill in Air Itam and is famed for its 120-feet tall statue of Kuan Yin. That place fascinated me as a teenager, where I have many fond memories seeing the Chinese New Year lights and taking photos with my zodiac animal. I often wondered about the Kuan Yin statue; about what would happen if the goddess opened her eyes, and what came out of the little vase in her hand. On my mother’s side of the family, her relatives practised Buddhism and Taoism. I used to see Kuan Yin sitting in a globe on my cousin’s dashboard. I also saw Kuan Kong standing guard like an action figure on another cousin’s dashboard. These cousins were young men; progressive millennials to say the least, and I always mused at how prominently their gods featured in their lives. Many things about Penang, my hometown, fascinate me. The people I know, the culture they practise, and the Penang Bridge of course. I don’t know what it is about that 13-kilometre stretch that is so intriguing and mysterious, but it’s appeared many times in my short stories. Many suicides and accidents tend to happen on the bridge too, and because I’m quite morbid, I like writing about them. These elements all feature in The Goddess and the Sea. To me, it’s important to write my world, and tell my readers about the things that fascinate me about this world. I suppose the writing teachers are right when they say to “write what you know.” Hopefully, readers will find it as captivating to read a good story about another culture. No matter where we come from, sometimes, we’re not so different after all. Read an excerpt of The Goddess and the Sea here.
The three eminent gods most worshipped in Penang Chinese culture are Tua Pek Kong, Kuan Yin Ma, and Na Tuk Kong. Each are revered for their respective functions, the first being the God of Prosperity, the second the Goddess of Mercy, and the third, also known as Datuk Keramat, being a local guardian spirit unique to the Chinese diaspora in Nanyang. Each god is bestowed his or her principal shrine, but collectively, they dot the homes, hillsides, altars, and temples of this island. Unbeknownst to worshippers, the eminent gods live and roam freely among mortals. Presently, they rest beneath a tree on a beach in Batu Maung, a fishing village in the southern region of Penang island. The news of Ma Chor’s arrival from Meizhou Island in China had caused a stir, and Keramat was talking excitedly about the delicate transporting of the Goddess of the Sea, known also as Mazu or Matsu. “But she’s not coming to Penang?” Kuan Yin asked. “No, she’s not popular here. We are,” Keramat said. “She’s at Thean Hou Temple in Kuala Lumpur today. Then off to Melaka and Singapore next week.” Kuan Yin was silent, her eyes downcast. In statues her eyes were always closed, but in real life, it was often hard to tell what was what. “I was hoping she would make a pit stop here.” “Why? Anything to ask her?” “Not particularly,” she said. “I suppose she is no longer as revered as she was in the old days. Our inhabitants are less dependent on the seas now.” “Well…” Keramat said, “we’re still an island-state though. There are always jet ski accidents and Penang Bridge suicides.” At the mention of the bridge, Kuan Yin shivered though the air was humid and warm. In the horizon, the sun was low and soon it would melt into the sea like a giant egg yolk. A fisherman or two were hauling their boats and nets to shore, oblivious to the three sitting by a boulder. Pek Kong, however, was unmoving against the rock. The hot sea breeze had induced him into a dream-like state, and his eyes were closed underneath his bushy white eyebrows. The wrinkles and age spots showed clearly on his face, and on his forehead he wore a frown. Suddenly, he stirred, looking straight at Kuan Yin. “My Little Lotus,” he said. “I know why you want to see Ma Chor so badly. It’s because of the boy, Peng, isn’t it?” Find out more about Wan Phing's work here. Want to read the whole story? Click on the button below to get a copy of the anthology!
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