July/August 2022

I hope that these struggles, predominantly human, though also maternal, will widen readers’ horizons—especially the horizon of empathy, which can never be too broad.

“I drew from my experience as a daughter of immigrants who understood that even though my parents didn’t leave love notes in my lunchboxes, they loved me through their actions.”

“I’ve had all these identities in life: girl, and then woman, Black person, whatever, but there is no tribe like that mother tribe.”

The evolution from being a parent who noted this dangerous issue, to a journalist who started writing about it, to acquiring a book deal was truly an . . . evolution.

As humans, we’re hard on ourselves. Whether it’s because of mental illness, or we feel like we’re a burden, or we think we’re not good enough as moms. I think what I want people to take from the story is that they can come back from making mistakes.

When I was on the trail, I was really hoping to find answers to this question—basically how to be happy in my normal life. I came away with a few different strategies. One, slow down.

For our Literary Mama crowd, this is a compelling narrative about how we come to define and understand mothers.

Those who love reading a good page-turner will find plenty to captivate their attention in The Night She Went Missing.

Mei wants to “live like a hero,” even at the cost of an identity that she’s surrendered before possession.

Those children want Mama back, but their father asks them not to wake her yet. He worries she may not be ready, may never be ready.

I had to write in order to understand the kind of mother I wanted to be.