Author Interview: Susan L. Lin
Which folkloric character or creature do you hate/ want to punch in the face?
I don’t hate them and probably wouldn’t punch any of them in the face, but I’ve always found larger-than-life human characters to be a lot less interesting than “monsters” or other creatures. As a first-generation American, I distinctly remember that my first introduction to Western folklore was reading about Johnny Appleseed, Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, and others in a book of tall tales in my second-grade classroom. Those stories just didn’t capture my imagination the way that legends about cryptids later did. And why did nearly all of the folk heroes have to be men?
Do you think of folklore as a thing of fear and warning or of mysticism and magic? Or both?
I think it can most definitely be both, depending on the circumstances. Folklore seems to me a way for people to explain the inexplicable. In some cases, these stories might be told with the goal of warning children (and adults!) of earthly dangers that lurk nearby. In other cases, the stories might be told solely to instill wonder and awe in the listener.
What folklore traditions do you take inspiration from?
“Moonshot: An Oral History…” is a companion piece to a horror story I previously wrote from the perspective of the doomed astronaut who ultimately dies during the lunar mission. When I was very young, my older sister had an allergic reaction to her shampoo, and the backs of her ears became bloody and infected. My mother used this as an opportunity to warn me that this had only happened because my sister dared to point at the moon. A similar punishment would befall me if I tried to do the same. Though it never made any logical sense to me, I never forgot this bizarre threat. Many years later, I searched the internet to see where such an outrageous idea had come from. I discovered that in Taiwan this is a common superstition. Pointing at the moon is considered disrespectful to the moon goddess Chang’e, and according to legend, she’ll cut off your ear in revenge. I never heard it framed in that context as a child, but I began to wonder about the behavioral patterns of other celestial bodies in the universe. What if the story about Chang’e was just the tip of the iceberg?
If you were a cryptid or folkloric creature, which one would you be and why?
I have written multiple stories and poems about the Loch Ness Monster, and I imagine that’s because I relate to it (or the idea of it) on some level. In general, I find large bodies of water to be simultaneously mysterious, magical, and terrifying. Anything could be hidden within its depths. I also relish the idea of being so elusive and slippery that people around the world would spend centuries debating my existence.
You’re a forest-dwelling hag and you find an intruder in your garden. What symbolic plant, animal, or object are you turning them into and why?
I can honestly say I’ve never thought about this before! I think I would turn a malevolent intruder into a giant rainbow pinwheel. It’s a great ornament for any garden, and I can think of no greater punishment than a lifetime spent rooted in one place with a head that never stops spinning. It is very windy where I live.
Read Susan’s short story in our second issue, available via our website www.folkloricmag.com
You can also follow Susan on Instagram @susanlinosaur and BlueSky @susanllin.bsky.social
