Meet Our New Intern: Corina Yi

The earliest stories I absorbed were variations of Korean folktales and myths from my parents. We don’t have heirlooms or gold, but we do have stories. There’s a story about a prankish frog who always does the opposite of what his mother tells him to do. When the mother frog falls ill, she asks her son to bury her body by the gloomy riverbank, hoping he will do the opposite by burying her by the sunny mountainside instead. But the son listens to her dying wish and buries her by the riverbank. This always made me teary-eyed, and I vowed not to disobey my parents, though I frequently did. There’s another story I remember about someone airing out all their dirty secrets into an empty forest where they think no one will hear, but really the trees are listening and catching the secrets like chlorophyll. I always laugh at the thought of that. But I suppose I’d be fine if all the trees in the world knew my secrets. I trust trees.

I don’t remember the first book I read, or the first story I wrote as a kid. I wish I could attest to some transformative narrative about my journey as a writer, something that sparked in me one day, but the truth is I was always writing. What I do remember is being weirdly competitive during elementary school book log competitions, and going through so much loose-leaf paper that my parents eventually bought me a mini laptop so I could type my stories. I’m drawn to various forms of storytelling, but especially writing that doesn’t take itself too seriously—the kind that’s playful, theatrical, campy, satirical, absurd, nonsensical. I’m propelled by inventive writing that experiments and isn’t afraid to break rules. I love this quote by Ray Bradbury that alludes to imagination and play as generative tools: “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”

In high school, I came across Jenny Zhang’s “How It Feels,” which felt transformative and eye-opening for a teenage girl and a young poet who was a lot more dramatic and angsty than she would have liked in hindsight. There’s a line by Zhang that has since stuck with me: “Why are some people’s feelings so repellent and others so madly alluring?” It begs the question of why people care to write. Or why people care to express themselves. I think about this across other forms of art too—some songs and films about suicides or breakups or family divorces or growing up are considered earnest and romantic, while others are cringe, tacky, off-putting. I remember being so embarrassed to express myself or attempt anything, but then again, isn’t that how everyone feels about living? To me, language is living. Language is transformative.

One book I’m currently reading is White Cat, Black Dog by Kelly Link, a collection of short stories that retell classic fairy tales in contemporary and futuristic settings, with lots of spins on pop culture. I remember finding this book in my friend’s dorm about a year ago and flipping through the first story, which features an ostentatious billionaire who sends his sons on a series of goose chases and cats in lab coats who operate a cannabis farm. I thought it was so brilliant; Kelly Link is a writer who performs play well, and her writing is gritty and otherworldly. Other writers who perform play on the page and inspire me are Carmen Maria Machado, K-Ming Chang, Toni Morrison, and Franny Choi. I’m drawn to the funky stuff that reimagines and reinvents worlds. I love stories about mythical creatures, queer desire, ghosts, lineage, strange neighbors, annoying teenagers, bad breakups, altered states of consciousness, transformation, collective memory, and messy embodiments of women and girlhood.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to work alongside bright, compassionate, and inspiring people at Sundress Publications, a nonprofit press that platforms diverse, imaginative, and cutting-edge voices. Send me a DM on Instagram @corinayii if you’d like to talk about writing, swap book recommendations, or just chat!

Corina Yi (she/her) is a student at Pomona College studying English and Creative Writing. She serves as the Editor-in-Chief of Agave Review, the literary magazine at the Claremont Colleges consortium. She likes collecting postcards, painting, drinking tea, cafe hopping, and going on spontaneous adventures.