Oh, hey, hello.
The fourth and final book in my Mihi Ever After series comes out today—the ending to a series I spent four years working on.
I was planning to write a longer letter—about endings, and about radical hope1, and about resisting censorship, which is a major theme of this fourth book.
But the past fews days have tangled into knots. My halmoni has taken a turn for the worse. As I write this, I’m packing for a trip to visit her in hospice care, for what might be a final goodbye.
I wrote a whole book to prepare myself for that goodbye, and yet I am utterly unprepared.
How could I possibly write about endings?
Let me write instead about beginnings. Let me be brief.
I started this series in the summer of 2020 because I needed joy. A pandemic was ripping through the globe. People were raging against systems of oppression, which which were back even harder. And I had just written a book about a halmoni dying.
I needed a portal into another world, where stories ended happily.
So I wrote about everything I loved as a kid. I wrote about willful princesses, and magical plants, and dragon trains, and stories that could save the world.
I wrote about friends who tackle the patriarchy, and massive wealth inequality, and imperialism, and censorship—and win.
It’s a fun series about fairytales and friendship and adventure, but at its heart, it’s also a series about imagining a better world, and making that world possible.
The final book in that series comes out today.
And now I’ve found myself back at the end.
Let me celebrate this ending, then, because I can’t think about other endings just yet.
I’ve written books about grief and fear and the uncertainties of growing up, and there will be more of those books to come, but for now: here’s all my joy. Here’s my unapologetic optimism. I, at least, need that now, and I think a lot of kids do, too.
I’ll be at Belmont Books to celebrate the series finale on February 17th at 7 pm, and I’m very happy to be doing something joyful next week. If you’re in the Boston area, please join me.
And if you’d like a signed copy of Mihi or any of my books, you can order from Third Place Books. Request your personalization in the order notes.
That’s all from me for now. I don’t have it in me to write much more, so instead, I’ll leave you with a poem I wrote for my halmoni when I was eleven. Years later, I dedicated When You Trap a Tiger: for Halmoni, I wish you a pendant.
Halmoni, I Wish You a Pendant
A poem for my grandmother
I love the way
you make the best musubi.
I can hear it crackling
in the pan,
smell it fresh,
Spam and seaweed.
See you press Spam
onto rice.
It tastes like love.
I love the way
we turn the lights
low,
cuddle up at night,
tell stories of Korea,
your voice painting
pictures
of ghosts and tigers
in my mind.
I love the way
you play school with me.
I get to be the teacher.
You are my student
who gets almost
everything right.
I love the way
you never forget my birthday
because it is your birthday too,
both of us Taes.
When we go to Kyotaru restaurant,
I always order butterfish.
I love the way
you pick out the bones
for me.
You even try to feed me,
but I say,
"I'm not a baby."
I love the way
you make me feel safe
and warm
in your hugs
that smell like flowers and rubies.
Halmoni,
I wish you a faithful chain
of echoing love,
my love,
your diamond pendant.
Take care of yourself. Nurture your joy. Tell your family that you love them.
With care,
Tae
An action-packed adventure series for kids ages 7-11, about three friends who go through their librarian’s refrigerator and find a world of fairy tales and magic.
letter to come later ❤️
So sweet 😭 sending you all of my love in this difficult time 🫂
I'm so sorry about your halmoni. The poem you wrote for her (at eleven?! I don't think I could write a poem this good as an adult. Wow!) is absolutely lovely. Thank you for sharing it.