Celeste Ng, 42, is the award-winning author of three novels, including Little Fires Everywhere, which was made into a miniseries starring and executive-produced by Reese Witherspoon. Her latest, Our Missing Hearts, dramatises the power of art and literature in dark times, unfolding in a nationalistic America riven by anti-Asian violence, where the authorities think nothing of snatching children from dissident parents. At its centre is Bird, a 12-year-old boy searching for his mother, an Asian-American poet who vanished years earlier. Ng lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with her husband and their son.
How did Our Missing Hearts begin for you?
It came from a very personal place, with me thinking about being a creative parent and that constant fear of just not being present enough if I’m daydreaming about a plot or going on a book tour. I’d had a creative mother in my last novel, Little Fires Everywhere, and her daughter is quite accepting of the art that she makes and of the sacrifices that that requires, but I started thinking: what if that were not the case?
This was in 2016. Did events unfolding around you in America shape the novel?
As a person of colour, as a Chinese-American woman, a child of immigrants, a lot of things made me feel very afraid for where my country was going. I also found myself having to answer tough questions from my son like: “Does Trump hate Muslim people?” So I began thinking about parenting in a world that seemed quite scary, and when those two currents ran into each other, that was the birth of the novel.
You finished writing the book in 2021, and while it feels like your darkest so far, it’s also your most hopeful. How did you find the necessary optimism?
I had a crisis of faith in the early days of the pandemic. I thought: books don’t do anything, maybe I should go and become a nurse? And then I realised that I was turning to poetry. I typed out “Poem (I lived in the first century of world wars)” by Muriel Rukeyser and stuck it above my computer. It’s about using art as a way of getting through difficult times and connecting with other people, and I realised that maybe one of the things that books can do is give us space for hope and a reason to keep going.
Does it feel any less challenging a time to be an Asian-American?
Yes and no. During Covid there was a noticeable uptick in anti-Asian rhetoric and action. To feel that visceral fear has been really shocking. I think we are now making progress but I was taken aback right after the Oscars. I made some excited tweets about the success of Everything Everywhere All at Once and I got a lot of pushback from trolls who just did not want to accept that it had ever been hard for Asian-Americans.
There’s an interesting tension in your work between outsiders and the wider community.
I have a complicated relationship with that idea of being one of the pack. Growing up, I always felt as if I was not quite fitting in. In my school pictures, there’s only one Asian girl and it’s me, but I was also generally accepted and lived a pretty American childhood, so there’s this insider-outsider feeling, and I realise it keeps coming back in my books.
You’re critically and commercially successful. Have you ever doubted yourself?
I had postpartum depression and there was a period before I finished my first novel when I thought I’d never write again. I remember my son had fallen asleep and I couldn’t move because I’d wake him, and I got this email on my phone, saying a story I’d written was being submitted for a Pushcart prize. It was such an important boost because it’s so easy to quit. I still try to think of a backup plan. What other skills do I have? I’m a terrible waitress!
What are you currently working on?
I’m trying to dig my way out of a post-book fatigue. I have a draft of a novel I was working on before Our Missing Hearts, so I may go back and resuscitate it, or chop it into pieces and Frankenstein it into other books. It deals with mothers and daughters again, and the ways that they mis-see each other.
I hear you make miniatures as a hobby.
I make scale miniatures in clay for doll’s houses but I don’t have a doll’s house. In grad school, I would sell them on eBay. Some miniaturists like controlling a tiny world; for me it’s about having to look at something really closely. I’m trying to think if there’s some way I can work them into a novel… Who knows, maybe in five years there’ll be a novel about a miniaturist.
What kind of a reader were you as a child?
I read a lot of everything. I actually don’t remember a time before I could read; words just always made sense to me. As a small child I’d see things happen and think: how would I describe this? I was well into my 20s before it dawned on me that being a writer could be a job but I’ve always been a story-maker.
Has anything stuck with you?
I’ve got a whole bookshelf of my favourite old children’s books. One that I realise was a big influence was Harriet the Spy. I thought I’d become a spy but in retrospect it was about a girl who listens and wants to find the right words. She’s also blind to how she’s trampling over other people’s feelings, and as a writer that’s something you have to think about a lot.
What’s the best book you’ve read recently?
Hell of a Book by Jason Mott. I thought it was really smart about race in America and also about how we use stories to make sense of our world or to reshape ourselves. It was a page-turner and emotionally powerful, and it was really funny. As a non-funny writer, I admire that.
What books are on your bedside table?
I’m working through a very tall stack. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin was genetically engineered to hit my sweet spot because I love video games, and Mott Street by Ava Chin feels like it’s going to be the seminal work about Chinese-American immigration. I’m also reading a lot of science books. My dad was a physicist who was always very interested in how things work and I think that same curiosity feeds into my writing. Ed Yong’s An Immense World, about how animals perceive things, is super interesting.
Is there a classic you’ve abandoned?
I have technically read Ulysses but I remember nothing about it. I also never learned to properly touch type. There’s a website where you can practise by typing the text of famous novels and one of them is Ulysses. I’ve got through the first two chapters but I don’t know if I’m going to go on. This novel might just not be for me.
• Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng is published in paperback by Little, Brown (£9.99). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply
