caroline hung
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carolinehung.bsky.social
caroline hung
@carolinehung.bsky.social
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台灣人!! na Pinay din
✨carolinehungauthor.com
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carolinehung.bsky.social
caroline hung @carolinehung.bsky.social · Apr 14
thank you so much!!! ☺️
ndafshow.bsky.social NDAF Show @ndafshow.bsky.social · Apr 14
This week, we’re delighted to be talking with the wonderful poet and short fiction writer, Caroline Hung, who joins us from Manila to discuss her writing process and the many stories behind her many dark and unsettling tales. She also performs for us a pair of poems, including a new piece, LUNA!
Reposted by caroline hung
jolantru.bsky.social
Hey hey hey, SH has a call for Indigenous submissions.

And I would like to read more Southeast Asian Indigenous writers!

If you are Dayak, Iban, Murut, Orang Asli - please submit!

Also I would like to see more Asian Indigenous:

Taiwanese aborigines.
Ainu.

strangehorizons.com/wordpress/no...
Indigenous Author Submissions
On November 3rd, we will be opening for speculative fiction stories written by Indigenous authors. We will be capping submissions at 500.
strangehorizons.com
November 18, 2025 at 3:17 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
super happy and grateful that people have read "Ticket po mamser." I remember being worried about writing some of the dialogue in Tagalog. It must have been gibberish to everyone else but I'm just glad I got the chance to do something like this
October 29, 2025 at 2:49 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
(1/?) 🧵 I'm doing #Peacetober2025 a daily artivism challenge run by @/CoffeesForGaza on IG with their prompt list www.instagram.com/p/DOz9c_9iEl0/
Coffees for Gaza - Open Collective
Creative community collecting mass micro donations for 25 families in Gaza.
opencollective.com
October 5, 2025 at 12:55 PM
Reposted by caroline hung
bydhiyanah.bsky.social
CFG is running #Peacetober again this year, an awareness-raising artivism initiative to help drive funds for the 25 families the collective is supporting.

Artists, writers, crafters, if you're looking for an October project, consider joining. More info here:
www.instagram.com/p/DOz9c_9iEl...
#art
Login • Instagram
Welcome back to Instagram. Sign in to check out what your friends, family & interests have been capturing & sharing around the world.
www.instagram.com
September 30, 2025 at 8:32 AM
Reposted by caroline hung
willbuckingham.com
Why translate from Taiwanese to Gaelic and back again? Here, @drhannahstevens.bsky.social and I try to give an answer on #Taiwan Insight.

Do read the other essays in this special issue as well (from Elissa Hunter-Dorans and Lisa MacDonald, with the final one soon to land from Naomi Sím).
Tâigael: Orchids, Maternal Care, and a New Rosetta Stone
Written by Hannah Stevens and Will Buckingham. The article introduces Tâigael: Stories from Taiwanese & Gaelic, a translation project linking two minoritised languages through English and Manda…
taiwaninsight.org
September 20, 2025 at 9:55 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
Two months ago a car nearly pancaked me to death. This is Day 25 of #1000DaysOfDrabble, so in each drabble I write about an unnamed narrator who escapes cruel and unusual and silly deaths, over and over.

I hate to clog your feed. I'll be moving them to my personal blog! keyboardcrumb.wordpress.com
This is Day 25. I got up from bed and went out through the front door. Still in my pajamas which, in the tropics, that means a thin shirt, short shorts. A group of people were sitting across the street, blaring the ugliest music in the world from huge stereo speakers. Every morning, like clockwork, splitting my head open. I almost couldn’t sew my skull together this morning. I grabbed my axe and smashed the stereo into pieces. The noise died into blissful silence… They watched me through eyeless sockets. Hollow, gaunt faces. Before they could get me, I ran back into my house and bolted the door.
September 14, 2025 at 8:29 AM
Reposted by caroline hung
leguinbot.bsky.social
You will die. You will not live forever. Nor will any man nor any thing. Nothing is immortal. But only to us is it given to know that we must die. And that is a great gift: the gift of selfhood. For we have only what we know we must lose, what we are willing to lose.
August 24, 2025 at 5:20 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
khōréō is an amazing magazine dedicated to sffh from diaspora folks. their stories are beautiful, haunting, gutwrenching, unforgettable

subscribe ⬇️
devanbarlow.bsky.social Devan Barlow @devanbarlow.bsky.social · Aug 19
It's always a good day to read some @khoreo.bsky.social stories, but this is an extra EXTRA good time to do so, or get yourself a subscription if you can!

weightlessbooks.com/khoreo-12-mo...
August 20, 2025 at 1:08 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
cc'ing all author and artist friends! you can donate things like manuscript critiques or signed art prints too. I donated a couple critiques and sensitivity reads
sandraproudman.bsky.social Sandra Proudman @sandraproudman.bsky.social · Jun 24
Let’s try this again with a working link:

There are moments where you don’t know what to say. You just want to scream.

If you need somewhere positive to put some energy on, I’m trying to make this the biggest fundraiser! 75/1000 item goal met!

Donate an item or three here:
bit.ly/WeThePeopleF...
July 25, 2025 at 1:40 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
Since the year 2000, @strangehorizons.bsky.social have been trailblazers in the SFF space, advocating for marginalized creators & international writers like me.

Please consider supporting their Kickstarter for 2026!
Strange Horizons 2026
A free weekly speculative fiction magazine with a global perspective.
www.kickstarter.com
July 7, 2025 at 2:18 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
24 #1000DaysOfDrabble
24 It's grocery day! Happy shopping, happy living. I met a woman in the bakery section, and she was staring a bit too long at the discount items. I might have been staring too, which the store manager didn't like. The woman offered me one of the free bread samples. I tasted one and it was poison! She admitted to dipping it in detergent. I thought it was a glaze. I didn't think she would try to kill me. The store manager came by again and threw us both out of the building. The woman turned to leave, but not before giving me a coupon for the next promo special, buy-two-take-three of bottled detergent. She still wanted to kill me! I tore up the coupon and just went home.
June 27, 2025 at 1:14 PM
carolinehung.bsky.social
yippee!!
June 10, 2025 at 5:11 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
21, 22, 23 for #1000DaysOfDrabble
21 They threw me into a pit of lambs. The shepherds in wolfskin robes. I didn't even know what I did so wrong. But it must have been bad, because they pointed to the blood on my hands and deemed me, a murderer. I never asked for the job. I never dreamed, that I'd grow up to skin wolf pelts for three meals a day and a roof over my head. Now, I lie naked amongst the little lambs of this dark, damp pit. These lambs are a bit odd. Teeth too big, eyes too bright, all-knowing. Their hooves are stained with mud. The shepherds threw us here to starve, or cannibalize each other. But little lambs have a taste for something else. Something crueler. And lambs could jump really high, too, when we really feel like it. Real high. We won't be killed that easy, and we will have our meal as well. 22 I enter the mall at dusk, and inside, it's brighter than morning. I hear children's laughter but see no one across the wide, shining linoleum. From the ground floor, I take the long escalator straight to the fifth floor, to the cinemas. The laughter has turned into piercing screams, tortured. I approach the ticket booth, and a mannequin in a suit hands me a red ticket. Admit One. I just can't wait for the show. It smells like buttery popcorn. I stop outside Theater Three. The double doors look a bit different. The teeth shouldn't be there. Human molars, the size of pews. The carpet, a deep purple velvet, shouldn't be wet and sticky. I turn around and tear my ticket into two. Sad. I really wanted to see my show today. But they can't kill me like this... 23 "That's my sundae. You're eating my sundae." I said to the goblin in my chair. It was wearing fancy clothes, suit and tie with polished shoes, a cane that looks sharp enough to stab someone. "Scoot over!" I shoved my way in to the booth, the seats a plush red velvet. The chandelier flickers overhead. The wood walls smell faintly of varnish, or it could be cigar smoke. I wouldn't know. I've never smoked. I just want my ice cream. The goblin grabbed my hair and brandished a spoon to my face. It must have wanted to scoop my eyeballs out. I kicked its foot and slammed its head onto the table. My sundae scattered with the broken glass. When the waiter came over next, I asked for another sundae. Double the whipped cream, please.
June 6, 2025 at 1:50 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
First published in @strangehorizons.bsky.social , my surreal airport horror "Ticket po mamser." was reviewed and recommended in the May 2025 issue of Locus Mag 🥹 thank you @cypayseur.bsky.social !
Samovar and Strange Horizons: Reviews by Charles Payseur
Samovar 2/3/25 Strange Horizons 2/10/25, 2/17/25 February brought a new issue of Samovar, which as always focuses on speculative fiction in translation, and Mayumi Inaba’s “Flying in the Dark Night…
locusmag.com
June 6, 2025 at 12:54 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
felt very moved by this www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVIX...
CHTHONIC閃靈【ENDLESS AEONS 百萬遍】Music Video
YouTube video by CHTHONIC 閃靈
www.youtube.com
May 14, 2025 at 11:24 PM
carolinehung.bsky.social
20 #1000DaysOfDrabble
20 "Am I strange?" The mermaid asked from their tank. Gurgled, more like, with their face half-submerged and spitting foam. Small bubbles bled over the water's surface. "No," I said, hands pressed against the glass. "No, of course not, why would you say that?" "But I am." The mermaid wailed, and dragged their sharp claws across pink, scaley arms. "Would it be, so wrong? That you would reject, even me?" "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry, I don't know anything." And the mermaid closed their eyes, and hugged their tail fin close. And their body dissolved in the water, breaking down into fine sand, precious little stars unseen to the naked eye. I sank to the ground, crying, and begging for them not to leave, don't leave me here, all alone, please, I can't live without you, don't go. I cried to the empty tank. When the saltwater dried, years and years later, I stood to walk away, carrying a single star in my pocket.
May 9, 2025 at 8:11 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
16-19 while I'm in the hospital caring for mother with lung cancer #1000DaysOfDrabble
16 I tripped and fell into a hole. It was a long way down. Long way. I landed on a soft, muddy pile, and I couldn't see anything, not even my own hands. The light could no longer reach me. Then a man started shoveling soil down into the hole. Slowly, slowly, blotting out my pinprick view of the sky. There was once an old story like this. Some kind of animal would shake the dirt off its back, until the earth grew under its feet. I was not an animal of ingenious wit, though I could not be killed from a simple burying. The man tired of the shovel. Tucked deep underground, I touched the ancient roots of a forest. And when they brought me up, a full, silvery moon was shining bright upon me. 17 I'd never held a sword before. What was so special about a tool for cutting skin, stabbing into organs, slashing flesh and sinew, and not even all that well? But the evil king had given me a sword, large and heavy and double-bladed and straight edges, a really boring sword, to defend myself from attackers. Did that make him a generous king instead? No, all kings carried a cruelty in their hearts. It's baked into the crown... But anyway, a sword. Is it supposed to grow spikes on the handle, piercing my hands and draining all the blood from my body? Well, well--nice try, evil king. This won't kill me, but I'll be sure to put your blood-sucking blade to good use when I come to strike you down from your throne. 18 "Ah! Bunny! It's a bunny! Cute widdol bun-bun, c'mere!" The rabbit ran into the bushes, frightened by my enthusiasm. I sat back on the forest floor and did my very best to hold back tears. There was a rustling in the bushes behind me, and the click of a gun, pointed straight to the back of my head. I knew even without looking. They'd always come to hunt me down. I turned to face them slowly, and stare down the barrel of their gun. I wasn't a little rabbit, though. A little rabbit wouldn't have smiled, all jagged teeth, crushing bullets then a hunter's skull. Another day. 19 A butterfly paid me a visit last night. A shining, beautiful thing with powdery wings and a subtle gaze. It watched me sleep, and waited as my mind wandered off to the land of dreams. It did not care for my heart. The butterfly hovered over my head, and perched delicately upon an eyelid. I could feel it all in my sleep. The butterfly wished to let me rest, and never rise again, even as the dawn broke over and over. My dream, warm and soft, turned into a nightmare suffering a thousand deaths. I woke up and crushed the butterfly in my palm.
May 9, 2025 at 8:09 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
14 and 15 #1000DaysOfDrabble
14 I took a nap then woke up to a boot pressed on my face. I was angry, and kicked upwards in retaliation. My assailant leapt back, he tried to kill me with a buckshot, and I knew for certain his was a terrible grudge, and I hated him too for trying to kill me in my sleep. I was literally, a harmless little kitty. "Why do I deserve this?" I asked, bleeding all over. He simply shot at me again, and I ran fast into the woods. 15 The wings on my back, once strong, beautiful, iridescent--now crumbled and scattered in the wind. It happened while I was in the air, high in the sky. A sun beam pierced my thigh. Then another, my arm. And I was falling to my imminent death. Just my luck. I tore my stomach out and used it like a parachute. Barely worked, and I drifted over waiting dogs on the ground, hungry dogs, hoping to rip into my corpse. Too bad. They will starve for longer.
April 17, 2025 at 12:23 PM
carolinehung.bsky.social
thank you so much!!! ☺️
ndafshow.bsky.social NDAF Show @ndafshow.bsky.social · Apr 14
This week, we’re delighted to be talking with the wonderful poet and short fiction writer, Caroline Hung, who joins us from Manila to discuss her writing process and the many stories behind her many dark and unsettling tales. She also performs for us a pair of poems, including a new piece, LUNA!
April 14, 2025 at 7:26 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
got my contributor's copy in the mail 🎉 @fusionfragment.bsky.social the full color print for saros#2 is so beautiful to have on hand, I celebrated w a drink made of angels' tears but the stories and recipes in these pages are way more scrumptious 🍹

order copies here!! -> sarossf.com/issue-2/
photo featuring Saros Speculative Fiction #2, cover art photo featuring Saros Speculative Fiction #2, front matter photo featuring Saros Speculative Fiction #2, sample page photo featuring Saros Speculative Fiction #2, back matter illustration
April 11, 2025 at 12:42 PM
carolinehung.bsky.social
Days 10-13 for #1000DaysOfDrabble ! (I have been cross posting these from a private blog)
11 I'm in the basement parking level of a huge shopping mall chain. The air is stale, smells like oil and coolant, sort of stinging and fuzzy in the nose. Makes me dizzy and too-warm. Ten armed men surround me in all directions, prowling between the idling cars and the wide concrete pillars. I have three seconds to run before the open fire, so I run. They cannot kill me, for if they do, the bombs strapped to my chest will detonate and take this whole parking building down, and there are children inside these parked cars. Well, they are all asleep. Not even the sound of raining bullets wake them. I keep running, looking for the emergency stairwell. An elevator greets me instead. Three of the closest men drop their AKs and chase me, but they are too slow, the elevator doors slam shut in their faces. I go up, up, up. I hope the children stay asleep. 12 Dark. I smell flowers, sweet as honey. A buzzing in my right ear, then I feel the pin prick of a needle on my lower lip. It draws blood, saltier than seawater. A door opens far ahead of me, pouring white light. “Who is it?” I call out. No human sounds receive me; only the infernal voice of heavy machinery, roaring engines, sputtering pipes. I understand. I don’t belong out there. They would crush me to death, and there would be nothing left of me. I close the door. I was coughing like mad and my lungs were about ready to burst. With tears running down my face, I couldn't breathe, it hurt to even move, and I was suffocating. I thought of the stray dogs the city caught, put in a plastic bag and stuck over an idling truck's exhaust pipe. The poor dogs would be dead in a minute. I was not a dog. They could not put me down like a dog. I learned to skip breathing, and forgot how to laugh. You throw up your lunch at the first sight of me. I know right away how disgusted you were, seeing my face and hearing my voice, all wrong, my socks not matching, teeth too crooked, acne all over. You say wrong, ugly, bad. I'm just sitting at the corner booth, eating my chocolate cake milkshake (that's a slice of chocolate cake blended into a thick milkshake) and the stinkiest stinky fried tofu ever. Foul, you say, and wrong. You hate the smell, and the fat, too rich and cloying. I wasn't hurting anyone, was I? You go on to steal a knife from the kitchen and hurl it my way. The blade tip lands on my arm, my blood splattering on the laminate. You then lunge over the island counters and dirty your hands and knees trying desperately to kill me, strangle me, erase me from the world. I'm pinned to the floor, can't move. You want to kill me. You squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze… Silly you, my head won't pop off so easily, like some cheap doll. You cannot kill me. Not like this. In the first place, I don't need air to breathe. You fail again. Poor you, poor you.
April 4, 2025 at 3:03 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
Issue#2 of Saros Speculative Fiction is gorgeous! @speculativekane.bsky.social did an amazing job as guest editor, bringing together beautiful stories w a dark, magical bent. Thank you so much for letting me contribute a little something as well! My freaky angel is happily clinking shrapnel glasses
April 1, 2025 at 3:45 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
8 and 9 for #1000DaysOfDrabble
The woman swung a nail bat at me, but missed when I ducked out of the way. The first time, she was only holding a wooden spatula, and it didn't even hurt when she'd struck my hand then. "You are useless, stupid, weak, and ugly," she said. The nail bat came down again. I rolled away, landing on my swollen palm. Okay, maybe it did hurt. "I never asked to be born," I said. "So did everyone else. You are not special." She aimed for my head again. I couldn't let her kill me. I crawled into a hole and cried until she left. Buried deep beneath the rubble, I cried desperately for help. My voice was muffled by layers of splintered wood, crumpled steel and shattered brick. And I could not move a single inch of my body. A ghost whispered into my ear, telling me it is time to die, magnitude 9.9 earthquake, the city is a burial ground now, and no one can hear you. "Shut up," I said, still pinned hopelessly in place. "If you have time to be a little bitch, why don't you do something useful for once? That or come back to life so I can kill you all over again." The ghost fell silent, then a sharp, whistling sound rang in the cramped space. My eardrums burst from the sheer volume, but it didn't kill me. The rubble began to shift above.
March 27, 2025 at 2:52 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
I've been writing one drabble a day since March 10 for #1000DaysOfDrabble and started posting here on the 14th. I'll keep posting whenever I feel like it... 7/1000 to cap off the week
I rang the doorbell at exactly ten in the morning, as instructed by the kind lady who took my application. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Everything else in the city had been destroyed, turned to ash. But I needed a job or I’d starve. The lady answered on the third ring, and her voice crackled through the intercom. “Please enter.” The front door swung open on her command. A gust of warm air pulled me inwards. I stepped through the doorway, ready for my job interview. “Good afternoon! Sorry, I mean, good morning.” Flubbed my greeting. Then the sky broke outside. A fireball crashed through the ceiling, taking the whole house down. I buried my face in my hands, mortified. The flames burned fiercely, but the sheer embarrassment swallowed me up and I was safe as can be, tucked in a little pocket.
March 17, 2025 at 2:35 AM
carolinehung.bsky.social
6/1000 #1000DaysOfDrabble this one's my favorite that I've written so far
It grabbed my hair and held me high off the ground. The massive knight with white, shining armor. It blew a heavy sigh, its breath scalding my face through the thin slits of its helmet. I had to fight back somehow, but my kicking legs were too short, arms too weak. "Release me, foul creature." The knight raised its sword to my neck. The sharp point tickled my chin. I cracked a smile. The knight didn't like that. The knight howled and drove the sword through my torso. I took it to heart. But I wasn't afraid. I was more angry than anything. This white knight killed a dragon, once. Now the knight wished to kill me. The hair on my head grew long and wisping, razor-thin, sharp as wires. Longer still, into a flourishing garden that quickly covered the knight and everything around us. And only I remained with sword in hand, alive and well.
March 16, 2025 at 12:53 PM