“And so I began to write about things I thought I would never tell another soul as long as I lived…”  These words begin the last paragraph of May-lee Chai’s beautiful and moving memoir Hapa Girl which I just finished reading.  Her opening sentence is also gripping: “When we first moved to South Dakota, we could stop traffic just by walking down the sidewalk, my mother and father in front, my brother and me trailing behind.”  (A perfect example of an opening hook.) 

May-lee and I were both judges for the PEN awards and I like her a lot – first from all the emails we exchanged last summer about the books we were reading, and then from meeting her in person, so I figured I’d like her book too – but I hadn’t realized how much I’d love it.

Whether writing about the teenager she was, trying to raise chickens on the farm with her brother or the adult woman she became finding her mother’s writing after her mother had died, the tone is always exactly right: ironic, heartbreaking, smart ass – whatever the situation in her story she finds the right voice. She also treads those fine lines of full emotion yet artistic control, and the deeply personal that opens up to a larger world. 

Here’s the review Lisa See gave it: .

"I was captivated by May-lee Chai's Hapa Girl from the first sentence. It continued to be so powerful that I read it in one sitting. It's at once brutal and sad, humorous and plucky. Chai has beautifully captured the deep racism and bigotry that lurks in our country with how one misguided decision can change a family's fortunes forever. Hapa Girl made me think about the bonds of family and the vicissitudes of place long after I finished the last page."  – Lisa See (Snow Flower and the Secret Fan )

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Think about the things you’re going to write, or are now writing, that you thought you’d never tell another soul.  Remember, no one will see what you write until you’re ready for someone to read it.