RACHEL KHONG is the author of the novels Real Americans, a New York Times bestseller, and Goodbye, Vitamin, winner of the California Book Award for First Fiction. From 2011 to 2016, she was an editor of Lucky Peach, a quarterly magazine of food and culture. In 2018, Rachel founded The Ruby, a work and event space for writers and artists in San Francisco’s Mission District. Her story collection, My Dear You, will be published by Knopf in April 2026. Since 2021, she has mentored emerging writers with the Periplus Mentorship Collective. With friends, she teaches as The Dream Side (www.thedreamside.com).
This book was masterful from start to finish. Each short story tackled difficult themes in a playful surrealist way that I really enjoyed. I couldn't stop thinking about the last short story for days. Someone read this so I can talk about it!
There is always a remarkable economy of language in Rachel Khong's books. She doesn't waste any time—or any words—getting to the point, but she doesn't sacrifice artistry, either. Khong's generous affection for her characters and ability to capture mundane human moments and anxieties with uncommon grace and humor make her exactly the kind of writer whose novels have made me wonder what she'd do with short stories. I can't wait to find out. —Rebecca Joines Schinsky
As a fan of Rachel Khong, I was really excited to see this ARC offered. The stories were reminiscent of Ted Chiang’s sci-fi short stories but from a uniquely Asian female lens. Some of the stories I found so engaging I was disappointed when they ended. Overall, another great read from Rachel Khong. Thank you to the publisher for the ability to read this in advance!!
This is the first time I've read Khong's short fiction--I've read her two previous novels, and this is the first book that's really wowed me. Khong had me from the opening sentence ("I selected fifty-four millimeters for the space between my eyes.").
MY DEAR YOU is a collection of odd, surreal and powerful short stories. Each one masterfully digs into what it means to be human, to love, and to change. I practically inhaled this, and will be thinking about these characters for a long time to come. Another incredible read from the one and only Rachel Khong.
Masterful short stories that highlight the challenging journey of finding yourself, in a time when it is very easy to not. It was playful and surrealist without skimping on depth. Highly recommend!
Thanks to Netgalley and Knopf for the ebook. This book of stories takes on serious ideas in many playful ways. It does it realistically, like when twenty Asian women band together to exact revenge on a white male who only dates Asian women on a dating app, to the more absurd, like when God gives humans a few months to pick another animal species, or when the government gives you a drug so that you see everyone as your own race and gender. It’s so much fun to see a novelist cut loose and have so much fun with short stories.
I loved. LOVED. Completely unexpected since I was expecting a novel but v pleasantly surprised. The perfect combo of surreal/thought provoking. Excited for my friends to read it.
'"Samsara," Greg said. "Life as circular rather than linear." I liked that: life as cyclical, not a straight line marked with stones. Or could there be more dimensions to it? In water, there wasn't only forward. There was down and up and through.'
My Dear You is a captivating collection of short stories filled with fantastical, absurd, and even delightfully silly scenarios. Each story feels out of this world yet somehow deeply human. What I loved most was how every piece made me stop and reflect. I wondered what I would do in those situations. It’s the kind of book that stays with you and makes you want to journal your thoughts after each story. Thought-provoking and imaginative.
I received this ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review--thanks! My rating for this book is 4.5 stars, but submitting 4 stars as feedback.
I really enjoyed reading this book. I don’t always enjoy reading short story collections, because sometimes they can be quite uneven. Some stories are strong and engaging, others uninteresting. However, I found all the stories in My Dear You to be unique and engrossing.
When I saw My Dear You was available to read on NetGalley. It reminded me that I had read Khong’s other book, Goodbye, Vitamin—which I remembered really liking as well. I was glad to not be disappointed.
Khong’s prose is easily readable and enjoyable. In these stories, she poses poignant questions and criticisms of our modern world that are sharp and relatable. Her style is absurdist and quirky, while simultaneously offering profound insight into what it means to be human. I appreciated how in most stories, she incorporated elements of sci-fi and fantasy. However, she always made the characters and situations feel grounded.
I did not give this book 5 stars because at times the narrators felt like the same character from story to story. Though in the second half of the book, I found this to be the case less so. Additionally, some stories ended too abruptly or without much closure—for example the story where ghosts are haunting a young woman. I don’t expect them to be wrapped in a bow or with a happy ending of course. But resolve is always nice.
*4.5* Thank you Netgalley and Knopf for allowing me access to this eARC!
When I discovered this book and read “a brilliant short story collection about love, life, and the anguish of becoming oneself in a time when it’s so easy to be someone else” in the blurb, I knew this was going to be for me. My Dear You is an enchanting collection of short stories that tackle important themes like identity, love, race, friendship, over-consumption and death, but in a whimsical way.
I was so captivated by these stories, there were a few that I truly wished had their own entire novel. Particularly one about a woman struggling in heaven to remember loved ones and another about hantu spirits haunting a glove making factory in a gentrified village. But it was the final story that was my favorite! It’s placement in the book tied the collection up beautifully.
I really appreciated the way social issues and humanity were woven throughout. It made the entire reading experience very thought-provoking. The only thing I disliked with this book was that I felt a couple of the stories ended too abruptly.
Thank you PRH Audio for the gifted ALC to listen to and review!
I downloaded this short story collection on a whim, and I’m so glad that I did. I was wholly unprepared for the gamut of emotions these stories put me through. They tackle many themes and issues told through the eyes of several thought-provoking characters. A lot of the themes are around being an Asian woman in America. Also explored are the concepts of friendship, love, intimacy, and connection.
There’s humor, tragedy, and moments where you find yourself cringing or confused (not in a bad way). Each story felt separate from the last, but the writing in all of them was similarly reflective. Although I had a few favorites, there weren’t any in the collection that I didn’t like.
Absolutely and wholeheartedly recommend this collection. My favorites were:
My Dear You Tapetum Lucidum The Family O Red Shoes
I loved this collection and had to sit with each story, processing before reading the next.
In one story, a woman adopts a cat and they both see her apartment filled with ghosts. In another, the government injects a drug into each citizen so they see the world as only their race, with the idea that it’ll reduce racial violence. In my favorite story though, a woman reconnects with her husband in heaven after he lived 50 more years without her on earth.
Each story gave me so much to think about and I can’t recommend this collection enough.
Ten captivating short stories that explore identity, relationships, and ambition. Many of the stories are speculative (e.g., which animal will you choose if God decides there will be no more humans; how would you feel if you discovered you weren’t from Earth, etc.) and all of them are entertaining. I particularly enjoyed My Dear You, Slow and Steady, Serene, The Family O, Red Shoes, and D Day. Recommended to readers in the mood for a diverting, reflective, and thought-provoking read.
Thank you to Knopf and NetGalley for the opportunity to read a copy.
What Remains After Refinement Reading Rachel Khong’s “My Dear You” as a story collection about selfhood, misrecognition, and the losses that arrive disguised as improvement By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | March 26th, 2026
A woman faces her own improved reflection in a room built to reassure, while “My Dear You” quietly asks what polish, correction, and composure may already have rubbed away.
In Rachel Khong’s “My Dear You,” loss rarely arrives looking like loss. It comes disguised as help, as progress, as a cleaner fit. A woman killed by a crocodile gets to redesign her face in heaven. A country sick of racist violence rolls out a drug meant to make citizens perceive everyone else as versions of themselves. Other stories offer calmer moods, altered vision, new forms of belonging, fresh starts with hidden invoices attached. Help keeps showing up with a smile and a brochure. So does improvement. Khong’s sly, unnerving question is what these upgrades cost once they begin sanding away the little marks by which a person remains readable to herself.
That question gives the collection not just its subject but its weather. Even its brightest premises arrive faintly singed. The title story opens with the sort of setup that could easily collapse into cute metaphysical whimsy and then, with admirable nerve, refuses to. Khong’s heaven is cosmetically adjustable, civically chipper, and run with the brisk good manners of an office that happens to house hot thirty-three-year-olds. The joke lands, and so does the bruise under it. The newly dead narrator, who lost her husband Adam almost as soon as she got him, first loses the exactness of his face, then the security of his name. Khong’s best move here is to make afterlife comedy answer to humiliations so small they might almost escape notice: a list of features, a drawing, a scrap of paper tucked under a sheet. What hurts is not death in the grand style. It is a marriage reduced to something nearly laundered away.
In “My Dear You,” love contracts to a scrap small enough to lose, and the whole grief of memory gathers around what can no longer be securely held.
Khong returns to that pattern often enough, and with enough deliberate variation, that it stops reading as cleverness and starts reading as compulsion. “The Freshening,” the book’s strongest story and the one that best reveals its ambitions, begins with satiric swagger and ends somewhere sadder, stranger, and more exact. Its device is almost cartoonishly blunt at first, which is part of the trap. The government introduces a perceptual intervention meant to short-circuit racism and sexism by making people see others as their own race and gender. Khong could have stopped there, pocketed the applause due a nimble conceit, and moved on. She keeps going. Her narrator, an Asian American woman moving through family grief, racial memory, bad desire, and the residue of old humiliations, does experience relief in certain small indignities finally easing. Men stop gawking in quite the same way. Doctors stop reaching so quickly for stock assumptions. Yet loneliness remains stubbornly itself. Desire does too. Policy can reroute perception, but it cannot do much with longing, vanity, fantasy, resentment, embarrassment, or the wish to be seen without being simplified. By the time the story reaches its illicit “changey” party and its frantic attempt to reverse what cannot be reversed, it has become less a fantasy of cure than a record of what cure cannot touch.
A room designed for calm, order, and correction becomes, in “My Dear You,” a still life of managed perception and the loneliness that survives every promised cure.
Later pieces keep finding the same raw band of experience and bruising it from a different side. “Slow & Steady” catches the lingering fever of a nearly-love and the way bad timing can become a life’s organizing principle. “Tapetum Lucidum” and “Colors from Elsewhere” disturb perception and then quietly show what happens when shared reality begins to fray at the seams. “Good Spirits” folds ghostliness into ordinary attachment. “D Day,” the final story, imagines God deciding humanity has been a bad idea and replacing people with other animals. Even there, with the scale suddenly and deliberately absurd, Khong’s interest remains intimate: attachment, singularity, the stubborn fact that every common fate is still borne one body at a time.
This is where the collection’s cleverness finally draws blood. “My Dear You” is less interested in transformation than in the conditions that let a self remain legible, even to herself. Memory goes. Categories smear. Feelings flatten. Perception sharpens and then isolates. Belonging thickens until it begins to erase. Again and again, Khong asks what survives once the ordinary tools of self-recognition start to fail. Her answer is never melodramatic. People continue. They flirt, joke, adapt, misremember, make coffee, keep going. That is part of what makes the book sting. What changes is subtler and, for that very reason, more humiliating than catastrophe. These characters do not simply lose themselves. They become harder to retrieve.
Khong’s prose is what keeps these stories from stiffening into polished conceptual rigs. The sentences tend to be short to medium, brisk, faintly side-eyed, and more exacting than they first appear. The diction is contemporary, demotic, and blessedly unprecious. A face is not damaged but “entirely fucked.” A glimmer catches “like panty hose to a dry patch of skin.” Breath can smell like used dental floss. Her images are often a little ugly, which is one reason they stay put. She reaches for the detail that gives a person away, not the one that flatters the scene. Just as important, she is unusually exact about embarrassment. Not public catastrophe, not operatic shame – the smaller and more poisonous forms: wanting to seem evolved when one is not, wanting to seem detached when one is not, wanting badly and then having to watch oneself want badly. This is one of her quiet ways of producing knowledge. Her people do not merely suffer. They catch themselves in the act of being themselves. She gives idea-driven fiction sweat.
More impressive than the premises themselves is the way she never lets them preen. Khong understands that a deadpan sentence can move grief more efficiently than a solemn one. The heaven story has face-shopping, community-service angels, a racist dog, David Bowie on a bicycle. It is also among the saddest things here. “The Freshening” has Y2K frat-boy residue, online dating distortions, a theme-park mascot revised by policy, and people swallowing illicit pills in hopes of seeing the world “correctly.” It also has a mother’s compromises, a schoolboy’s suicide, a daughter’s racial loneliness, and the sour discovery that desire may be less educable than one would prefer. Khong can pivot from absurdity to ache without announcing the turn, and that tonal agility matters because it keeps the book from confusing seriousness with heaviness. She knows that wit is not a way around pain. It is one of pain’s native languages.
Structurally, the collection looks almost plainer than the effects it produces: ten stories, no parts, no interludes, no interpretive railings. The plainness is deceptive. Before long, plot matters less than recurrence. Entry after entry moves through some version of a recognizable sequence – intervention, adjustment, thinning, smudged aftermath – and those repetitions begin to teach the reader how to look. The early stories arrive vivid and jagged. The middle settles into a lower hum. The later ones grow stranger and more estranged. The final story reintroduces agency, but only provisionally. By the end, the book has trained you to read across it for the places where help turns out to have a hidden appetite.
It sounds simple when laid out like that. On the page, it is where Khong does her hardest work. She makes speculative or heavily conceptual setups feel lived because she writes toward side effects rather than systems: awkwardness, uneven desire, bad substitutions, minor fidelities, the little humiliations of adaptation. What she controls best is gradation. She knows exactly how much to take away. In “My Dear You,” a husband becomes a list, then a blur, then an address with no secure addressee. In “The Freshening,” relief arrives, but so does the realization that relief and erasure can wear much the same face. Even the weaker stories carry that same paring hand.
Here the book’s middle weather settles in: a life made tidier, quieter, and easier to inhabit, though a little less vivid to the self living it.
The limitation is bound up with that strength. The very precision that steadies the book also trims away some of its volatility. The problem is not crude unevenness. There are no real duds here. The problem is that different premises sometimes arrive at a similar emotional aftertaste. Khong varies the machinery, but the ending note can begin to appear in a familiar coat. The middle stretch in particular loses some voltage because the collection keeps proving a point it has already made persuasively. At times, later entries feel less like fresh discoveries than like increasingly fine revisions of an argument the book already owns. That is the price exacted by the method: less drag, less flare, fewer true shocks of difference.
Still, that method suits the world she is writing about – a world forever trying to sand discomfort into something manageable. These stories understand the fantasy that enough adjustment might make us decent, calm, readable, safe. “The Freshening” is especially sharp here because it refuses every easy piety. It will not pretend racism is imaginary. It will not flatter the reader that desire is easy to retrain. It will not confuse perceptual sameness with justice. What it sees instead is a culture increasingly tempted to treat friction as the problem, when friction is often where knowledge of how people actually treat one another begins. Khong is not interested in the old bromides about authenticity. She is interested in what happens when a person becomes easier to live with and less fully herself.
The collection’s racial thinking is among its strongest assets because it moves beyond statement into pressure. Khong is not bolting social commentary onto whimsy. She is writing about misrecognition at close range. To be fetishized, condescended to, administratively managed, sympathetically misread, romantically simplified – these are not separate injuries here. They accumulate. They shape what relief can even look like. They also shape what kinds of belonging start to feel like disappearance. If the book has a larger contemporary relevance, it lies there: in its suspicion of every system, policy, or feeling-management scheme that promises to solve the mess of being seen by reducing the complexity of what is seen.
Comparisons help chiefly by clarifying Khong’s refusals. She shares with Ted Chiang an interest in altered conditions of knowing, but she is far less drawn to elegant theorem-making. She shares with Katie Kitamura an exact sense of misreading and distance, but she is warmer, funnier, and more willing to let the absurd tramp in wearing muddy shoes. Her best register is the speculative anecdote that keeps discovering it has a bruise.
As “My Dear You” moves toward its final residue, the bright public world keeps naming damage as progress while private knowledge remains unconvinced.
I land at 89/100, which makes “My Dear You” a 4-star book in Goodreads terms: highly accomplished, frequently piercing, not quite various or electrifying enough to join the small shelf of collections whose every piece feels inevitable. The book does not stay in the mind as thesis. It stays there as residue: a husband’s name on a disappearing slip of paper, a spoon catching a single tear, a heel giving way, a woman shut in a bedroom while the world outside insists that damage can still be corrected, still be polished, still be sold back to her as progress. Khong is too shrewd to buy that story. Her fiction keeps rubbing at buffed surfaces until the reader notices what has come off on the cloth.
Early thumbnail studies testing how solitude, architecture, and an imperfect reflection could carry the review’s central pressure before color or finish entered the page.
The image in skeletal form, where mirror, figure, border, and negative space first establish the quiet geometry of reassurance shading into loss.
The moment structure begins to turn atmospheric, as the first warm and cool washes separate comfort from estrangement and the room starts to hold its unease.
A palette study translating the cover’s emotional colors into watercolor terms, balancing institutional warmth against the cooler tones of misrecognition and self-erasure.
All watercolor illustrations by Demetris Papadimitropoulos.
I know this is the first book I'm finishing in 2026 but I'm gonna go ahead and state that this will probably be one of my top books of the year.
edit...like a week later with the rest of my review.
I originally finished this on January 2nd and I know that it was the first book I finished it 2026, but this is going to be one of my favorite books of the year. A stunning short story collection that is something I can only describe as raw and haunting. The stories themselves are endearing, touching and human but the storytelling is fantastical, speculative, even silly; the contrast is done masterfully! In ways, I'd say it's similar to Black Mirror but generally less creepy and eerie.
Each story is one that begs to be reflected upon. There is so much substance; I could see myself reading this one again which I don't typically reread books.
I was surprised to discover that My Dear You is a collection of short stories rather than a single narrative. Rachel Khong’s writing is undeniably creative, often weaving the absurd and the tender in unexpected ways. However, I struggled with the tone…it felt unbalanced at times, and I found myself wondering if it was more about my personal preferences than the book itself. I tend to prefer more cohesive storytelling, and while some of these stories were moving and imaginative, others didn’t quite land for me.
Still, I can see this resonating strongly with readers who enjoy experimental short fiction, surreal premises, and stories that blur the line between grief, love, and the afterlife.
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I liken short story collections to albums—and this one? No skips.
While a departure from her previous novel, every story in My Dear You is utterly fascinating, vibrating with an underlying hum of caution. Khong stitches together surreal, speculative tales that feel close enough to real life to make you squirm.
For fans of Black Mirror who can’t actually stomach Black Mirror, this is your sweet spot: eerie, emotional, and entirely human.
As with most short story collections for me - some stories in here are hits and some were misses for me. It was enjoyable speculative fiction with a touch of whimsy and a dash of melancholic nihilism. The themes are important, almost at times to a silly degree of obviousness - but that made it all the more enjoyable from a lighthearted perspective. It was a fun time. It was tender, humorous, witty and absurd.
These stories are whimsical and bizarre and wonderful and linger on themes of identity, race, friendship and loneliness. I really enjoyed this collection.
Some favorite stories: The Freshening: This was the second story in the collection and I was really drawn to the dystopian theme. Here, the government has come with a 'Freshening' initiative to inject drugs that'll make you see everyone around you the same race as yours. This is supposed to reduce racial violence by stripping diversity—If you are white, your world becomes white; If you are Asian, your world becomes Asian; and so on. Our protagonist is an Asian woman but her injection has a glitch because of which everyone becomes an Asian woman in her eyes—her father's photo, her friend's white boyfriend, the cast of her favorite movie, and so on. What is it like to live in such a world?
Serene: I loved this story! This story had a beautiful soul and felt very human. A woman strikes up a friendship with a sex doll. She is asked to spend time with the doll to better train its AI systems and her commission increases if she sells better dolls. But what happens to their friendship?
The Family O: A revenge story about a group of more than 20 Asian women after they realized they all dated a white guy who fetishized Asian women. His dates with the woman are similar—taking each to an Asian restaurant, talking about his trip to a Buddhist temple, then buying a fish at a pet store that reminds him of his date. Jess, who is on dating apps, strikes a friendship with the other women her date had dated in the past.
D Day: This had such an interesting concept. Humans will change into an animal of their choice. Chaos ensue as people try to choose their perfect animal; families stop talking to each other when they do not agree with choices (I loved the part where a mother wanted to be a poodle but her family advises her she can't live without a human pet owner, so why not be a cat or something, but she is adamant she wants to be a poodle). The story really moved me. How people try to have the most of the last hours as human—going to an escape room, things like that—which they can no longer do as animals. I loved it!
My Dear You: “Something nobody tells you is that when you die a death in which your face and body are utterly maimed, you get to choose your face in heaven,.” In this story, a woman eaten by a crocodile on her honeymoon, is contemplating to fix the wide space between her eyes which was something she was always teased about as a child. She meets her husband again in heaven when he dies 50 years later.
Other stories: Good spirits (about spirits in a factory), Slow and Steady(reconnecting at thirty five), Tapetum Lucidum (a woman struggling with infertility adopts a cat), Colors from Elsewhere (miscarriage)
When I requested to read this book I was unaware that it was a short story collection. I loved Rachel Khong's 2024 novel Real Americans and I thought this was her next novel. I was very inspired by and appreciated this story collection, which are united as they have different main characters but they are all asian women.
The stories range from the absurd, to the magical, to the beauty of every day. The first story is about a woman eaten by a crocodile on her honeymoon at age 30, and her life in heaven, only to fall for her husband of 1 day almost 50 years later. This story was very romantic. I also liked the story of a young woman who was the only friend of an AI sex doll, teaching her English and culture just by speaking to her. Then later feeling sad that she was going to be sold and have a new life in Cleveland. All of the stories were very emotional or raw. I love the internal dialogue and I found the characters to be quite lovable, while flawed. In one story the US government required everyone to take a vaccine that led everyone to see other people as their own race. What a fascinating concept!
If you rarely read short story collections, like me, I would encourage you to read My Dear You. What I really liked is that they didn't all have a defined "beginning - middle - end"- some were just an image, and I never knew when the story was going to end. Most of them I didn't want them to end, they left me wanting more, but in a good way.
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage and Anchor for the ARC. Book to be published April 7, 2026.
4.25 ⭐️ Rachel Khong’s upcoming short story collection MY DEAR YOU has something for most readers: speculative fiction (particularly if you liked SHARK HEART!), stories about identity, and a few stories that are a bit spicy (revenge on a white man who fetishizes Asian women), and more! All of these stories have Asian female main characters.
My Dear You: 4⭐️Woman was eaten by a crocodile on her honeymoon and meets her husband again in heaven when he dies 50 years later
The Freshening: 4⭐️Enjoyed the concept of the government injecting you so that you see everyone as your race and gender, thought this would be better as long form
Slow and Steady: 5⭐️I loved this one and thought it was really interesting how these two people reconnected at age 35. (I think I like realistic fiction a bit more than speculative fiction.)
Tapetum Lucidum: 4⭐️A woman deals with infertility, adopts a cat, and sees other lives with the cat. (Back to speculative)
The Family O: 5⭐️Jess is on dating apps, and she gets involved with a new group of friends and realized they all dated a white guy who fetishized Asian women. They devise a revenge plan. (Realistic fiction is my jam.)
Serene: 4.5⭐️Ling works in a sex doll factory, and she finds a friend in the AI sex doll Serene.
Red Shoes: 3⭐️This is the only one that fell flat for me.
Good Spirits: 3.75⭐️Spirits are in the factory, explores friendship with Cecilia.
Colors from Elsewhere: 4⭐️When the main character experiences a miscarriage, she seeks out Eastern medicine and finds out something new about herself.
D Day: 5⭐️There’s an announcement that all humans will turn into the animal of their choice soon. A couple grapples what each will turn into - for fans of SHARK HEART.
Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for an Advance Reader Copy in exchange for an unbiased review.
My first introduction to Rachel Khong's writing was in her much-loved "Real Americans", so I immediately jumped on the opportunity to get an early read at her next work. Unlike her previous novel, "My Dear You" is a collection of short stories that spans a number of themes, settings, and characters, and speak to much of what's relevant in our present day, especially for Asian and Asian-American women.
In the eponymous "My Dear You", a woman in heaven reflects on her previous life and the fading memories of it, including her marriage to a husband - and years after her arrival, meets a new companion in heaven. In "The Freshening", an mandated injection is given to all US residents, forcing them to see others as their same race and gender, as a solution to discrimination. In "The Family O", an Asian American woman finds friendship with others in their shared dating experience with a man who solely dates Asians - but finds the limitations of that shared camaraderie and friendship. In "Serene", a sales associate of sex dolls is pulled into training a new model named Serene and tasked with her eventual sale - all while she forms a close bond with it.
The stories are realistic and fantastical, thought-provoking and emotional, unsettling and sublime - capturing a holistic yet troubling landscape across the themes of identity, marriage, motherhood, and the range of human (and inhuman) connection in the present day. I thoroughly appreciate just how concise and compact each story was, without losing the underlying message or storyline; Khong's writing is incredibly complex, varied, and descriptive, lending well to the subject matter at hand. Very much a recommended read for when "My Dear You" is published in late April 2026!
Like I suppose will be the case with many prospective readers, I was instantly drawn to this because of my enjoyment of Khong's novel, _Real Americans_. That's also why I was a little reluctant coming into this read. A stellar novelist does not always turn out a compelling short story and vice versa. Thankfully and not too surprisingly, it turns out Khong can do it all.
This collection is so interesting. While I frequently find myself in highs and lows in short story groupings, that was not my experience here. Yes, there were a couple of REAL standouts, but they weren't peaks interspersed with valleys. The entire collection has a clear throughline but also enough variety to show clear slices of life and experience. Some of the motifs are over-the-top in an extreme and compelling way. Others are understated but continue to make me consider them after the fact. And these great stories are punctuated by wildly memorable moments. There are a couple of endings, in particular, that really got me in a good way (not the least of which is an incredible moment of recognition I'll not soon forget).
I was cautiously optimistic on the way in, but save your energy. There's no need to be cautious here. Khong has a great series of short stories for us this time, and readers who appreciate the genre will find a lot to enjoy.
*Special thanks to NetGalley and Knopf for this arc, which I received in exchange for an honest review. The opinions expressed here are my own.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ | My Dear You by Rachel Khong is a playful, perceptive, and piercing collection of short stories that circles questions of identity, intimacy, and the awkward art of becoming oneself. Khong crafts strange, sharp, and surprisingly tender scenarios - from a government drug that blurs race and gender to ghosts summoned by a cat - yet beneath the surreal setups lie sincere, searching reflections on love, loneliness, and belonging.
What makes this collection stand out is Khong's clever curiosity and compassionate clarity. Her characters navigate dating disasters, domestic doubts, and existential embarrassments with humor and heart. The stories move between the absurd and the achingly authentic, balancing biting wit with quiet wisdom.
Some stories sparkle more brightly than others, but the collection as a whole earns a solid four stars for its creativity, curiosity, and the cultural commentary. Khong's prose is agile, amusing, and emotionally astute, leaving readers with lingering questions about race, relationships, and what it really means to be human.
A thoughtful, tender, and occasionally terrific set of stories that rewards readers willing to wander through the weird.
Thank you to the publishers Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Ancho | Knopf for the advanced reader copy via NetGalley.