Mỹ Documents

by Kevin Nguyen

The paths of four family members diverge drastically when the U.S. government begins detaining Vietnamese Americans, in this sharp and touching novel about growing up at the intersection of ambition and assimilation.

Ursula, Alvin, Jen, and Duncan grew up as cousins in the sprawling Nguyen family, but the truth about their family is much more complicated. As young adults, they're on the precipice of new ventures—Ursula as a budding journalist in Manhattan, Alvin as an engineering intern for Google, Jen as a naive freshman at NYU, and Duncan as a promising newcomer on his high school football team. Their lives are upended when a series of violent, senseless attacks across America create a national panic, prompting a government policy forcing Vietnamese Americans into internment camps. Jen and Duncan are sent with their mother to Camp Tacoma while Ursula and Alvin receive exemptions.

Cut off entirely from the outside world, Jen and Duncan try to withstand long dusty days in camp, forced to work jobs they hate and acclimate to life without the internet. That is until Jen discovers a way to get messages to the outside. Her first instinct is to reach out to Ursula, who sees this as an opportunity to tell the world about the horrors of detention—and bolster her own reporting career in the process.

Informed by real-life events from Japanese incarceration, the Vietnam War, and modern-day immigrant detention, Kevin Nguyen gives us a version of reality only a few degrees away from our own—much too close for comfort. Moving and finely attuned to both the brutalities and mundanities of racism in America, Mỹ Documents is a strangely funny and touching portrait of American ambition, fear, and family. The story of the Nguyens is one of resilience and how we return to each other, and to ourselves, after tragedy.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Dystopia, Literary Fiction, Science Fiction, Audiobook, Historical

352 pages, Hardcover

First published April 8, 2025

Reviews

[Roxane · Rating 4 out of 5]

It’s always interesting when a novel written years before the present day is uncannily prescient. Such is the case here with this very compelling novel about an extended Vietnamese family and how their lives are derailed by a mass internment of the Vietnamese community after a series of terrorist attacks. Given what is currently happening in the US, the events of My Documents feels entirely plausible. I appreciated the polyphonic narration and the way different the stories were woven together. The writing is witty and sharp. The characters could use more depth but that’s only because I found them so interesting and wanted to know more about them.

[Zoulfa Katouh · Rating 5 out of 5]

a dystopian that feels too real...
when a dystopian stops feeling shocking and just has you nodding your head, does that mean we're too far gone?

[Mai H. · Rating 5 out of 5]

2025 Goodreads Choice Awards (Mai's Version) - Readers' Favorite Science Fiction

ANHPI Heritage Month 2025 #11

I

I don’t know what took me so long to pick this up. I’m really enjoying this.

Families are messy. I don’t know if Vietnamese families are messier than most, or if it’s just my extended family that’s extremely messy, but either way, I get it.

We get introduced to a few members of this family saga. I don’t quite know if I love Ursula or hate her, but as the daughter of a Vietnamese man and white woman, with one brother and two half siblings they call cousins (it’s more palatable/polite) trying to work in journalism (a very much not Asian approved field: it’s doctor, lawyer, engineer, or accountant, in that order), her story speaks to me. It’s captivating me more than the others. I find Jen juvenile and annoying. I forgot the boys’ names.

This section ends with a terrorist attack. We have been shown the Japanese Internment, and how most of us don't learn about this in American History. Shameful. And in this day and age, unfortunately still so relevant. No one is safe. They’ll come for you next.

II

This section went quickly. I enjoyed the first section just a tad more. Obviously, this is where shit starts to go down.

Even though it's the Vietnamese that launched a terrorist attack, it's Vietnamese Americans that are rounded up and tossed into concentration camps. (Why must we be hyphenated? Why are Asian Americans combined like this? No one calls white people European Americans, but I may start.)

Kevin wrote this pre Trump part two, but it's oddly reminiscent of current happenings. I don't say this in a good way.

Ursula and her brother, whose name I cannot remember, get exemptions. If you remember, they have one white parent and are white passing. Their half siblings, called cousins for whatever palatable reason, are detained. Ursula finally deigns to reply to Jen's texts. It's too little too late.

III

Things are picking up. Or growing more horrifying. Your choice. As the Vietnamese Americans are firmly ensconced in the camps, some settle into captivity. Some don't. Jen joins a group a resistance. It's always the young.

I remember Jen's brother's name now. It's Duncan. I can't really tell you anything about him, because I find him boring.

Jen leaks information to Ursula, who finally deigns to respond. With this news, Ursula can finally become a serious reporter. She is told to stop using her mother's white last name, and that her father's Vietnamese surname lends more credence to her stories. Some authors do this. I am guilty of second guessing a book if the author's name looks too western.

IV

I know the other brother's name now. It's Alvin. Do you hate these play-by-play reviews? At least one of you all loves them. Not that I care.

Alvin works at Google, the only reason he is exempt from the camps. Also, he passes. But Ursula was exempt all along. Anyway, he leaks documents (decks, not slideshows - get with it, non-techies) to his sister to publish and acts brand new when Google catches him. He is fired. He is a little shocked. No one else is.

So obviously, Alvin can no longer afford to live in the Bay Area. He gallivants across the US to stay with Ursula in New York, doing little chores for her in order to earn his keep.

The other siblings are finally interesting to me, as we near the end. Ursula meets up with El Paquete, the go between for Jen to get messages to her. Also the supplier of the camps. At first, we’re enamored with the face behind the help. Then we realize he’s just like every other man, taking advantage where he shouldn’t. Is it so hard to be decent?

Shit goes down at Jen’s camp. I want to kill Dennis, who I can picture as a 5’5” rat whose Hinge profile contains all selfies and lists his height as 5’8”. Did I date this man? Actually, no. I was going to say my taste in Vietnamese men isn’t this bad, but that’s a lie. IYKYK

V

Not that things weren't already sad, but they get sadder. This loss, which I won't mention, feels pervasive. As loss often does, it binds people together. Why does it take something sad to bring people together? Why can't it be something happy? My extended family, in particular, are guilty of this. Have we done anything to change our behavior? No.

I was going to say Ursula isn't really a palatable character, but truly, none of these people are. No one anywhere is. We contain multitudes, and that's what makes us people.

I was also going to say I don't know what took so long for the rest of the American people (because Vietnamese Americans, and everyone else you try to hyphenate are American) to realize that the camps were horrifying and unconstitutional, but I do.

All in all, an amazing read, and one pushed forward for this heritage month I have certain feelings about, and listening to Kevin speak at LATFOB. All of the authors on the panel were fantastic. I have TEHRANGELES. I put the others on hold. The moderator was horrible. She ignored and asked questions only a white woman would. I'll leave it at that.

📖 Thank you to One World

📱 Thank you to NetGalley and One World

[Jonas · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Documents gives a glimpse into a possible tomorrow. I was taken by the story and it had everything I look for in a reading experience. There were some characters I really liked-Duncan, Hugo, cousin Tom, and Jen’s Ma-and others I didn’t-Dan (not a fan until the very end) and Ursula. After a domestic terrorist attack conducted by five men who were Vietnamese, a law is immediately passed in which the Department of Homeland Security detains citizens with Vietnamese heritage in camps. These detention centers are very much like the Japanese Internment Camps during WWII. The author likes to play with words and word meanings. The acronym for the law is AAPI. I found this very interesting and realistic as a way the government takes a defining term of pride for a community and weaponizes it as one of many actions to dehumanize these citizens.

A recurring theme of the novel is doing a job as a means to live/survive. Another is looking at ways we compartmentalize and the stories we tell ourselves to get through life. I love how the author recognizes how important the arts and entertainment are to living and enhancing the quality of the life lived. The biggest question posed is, “Which is the greater act of selfishness, living our daily lives or doing what is necessary to survive?”

My Documents has everything you would expect from a novel passed on one demographic of a society being sent to camps/detention centers. It was interesting, but not surprising, how the wheels of capitalism profited in many ways from this practice. I always enjoy reading about underground movements both inside and outside the camps. Citizens often dissent in their own way as they disagree with the atrocities of their government. Journalism and Google play prominent parts in the narrative, as does the publishing industry. It is interesting, but again, not a surprise, to see what and who gets published and what for what reasons.

My Documents is an important read. This is the type of book I gravitate towards. I highly recommend it as well as Our Missing Hearts by Celeste Ng and The Seasonal Quartet by Ali Smith.

[Brandi Gronczniak · Rating 5 out of 5]

When dystopian books stop feeling quite so dystopian... yikes. To be fair, this book isn't dystopian as it is inspired by the very real Japanese incarceration in America, as well as modern-day immigrant detention. The idea that an entire group of people could be detained and imprisoned because of their race SHOULD be dystopian. Unfortunately, Nguyen's novel doesn't seem so far-fetched in the current state of politics.
This book hit all the notes for me and will be one of my top recommendations for some time.

**I received this advance copy free from One World via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.**

[Tracy P. · Rating 4 out of 5]

So glad I did not pass this one by. Full review to come.

[Oscar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Terrifying and heartbreaking

[Liz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I only became aware of My Documents when it was chosen as the book selection for our week at Chautauqua. But how eerie that this book, which obviously had to have been written even before Trump was elected, has become so prophetic. The premise is that after a terrorist event, for which several Vietnamese men are responsible, the US passes a bill calling for the internment of all Vietnamese living in the U.S. Nguyen draws as his inspiration the Japanese internment during WWII, the refugee camps after the Vietnamese War and current day immigration centers (although Alligator Alcatraz was not yet conceived at the time). But it’s not just the idea of rounding people up. There’s a whole segment on Google and how it’s in collusion with the government. Paramount, anyone?
The story tracks five relatives - 2 full blooded Vietnamese siblings who are detained, two half-Vietnamese siblings who receive exemptions and their father who goes on the run. Their stories are interspersed with the reports Ursula writes.
A few things struck me. The willingness of Ursula, the reporter, to publish things she has to know will backfire on her relatives. Yet, her ambition consistently wins out. The fact that she’s only half Vietnamese and can “pass” as white also figures into the story. Meanwhile, her half-sister, Jen, is left to pick up the pieces of her life at the detention center and after.
Nguyen does some clever things, like making the guards Hispanic. And all along, many folks, even those running an underground delivery service, do things just because it’s a job and they’re getting paid. His commentary on how quickly things pass from the public’s ability to care hits home.
The story slows once the internment is undone and I was less impressed with the final quarter. The story is dark, poignant, terrifying, yet at times humorous. I can’t wait to hear the author discuss it.

[Sam Cheng · Rating 1 out of 5]

Nguyen creates a frighteningly realistic dystopian scenario in Mỹ Documents. In response to 7 terrorist attacks on US soil by people with Vietnamese ancestry, the government mandates ethnically Viet Americans to detainment camps. This temporary holding will give the government and law enforcement to determine the level of threat Vietnamese people living domestically pose to America’s safety. Their incarceration repeats the historical internment camps for Japanese American citizens during WWII.

We enter the story through the perspective of a Vietnamese American family, particularly 2 half-sisters (through their absent biological father), Ursula and Jen. Before Viets are sent to detention centers, the sisters chase their respective dreams in New York: Ursula, a young professional in her early 20s, dreams of covering meaningful news worthy of a serious reporter; Jen, 6 years Ursula’s junior, starts college as an uninitiated freshman and seeks the approval of others, including Ursula. When the government asks the Vietnamese Americans to turn themselves in to law enforcement, Ursula and her full brother, Alvin, find themselves exempt because of their work; Jen, her mother, and her full brother, Duncan, become detainees at Camp Tacoma. Mỹ Documents then unfolds the next two years of the sisters’ lives, the camps’ lifespan.

Although the two women who share cultural similarities start on different trajectories, the camps push their paths to not only resemble the other’s but overlap. Prior to Jen moving into Camp Tacoma, Ursula has little interest in fostering a meaningful relationship. However, the relationship shifts when Jen begins providing Ursula with exclusive insider information, functioning as the sole reliable source on life in detention, projecting Ursula into respected journalistic circles. As she moves up in rank on the outside, Jen hones her investigative work, too. She and friends on the inside officially work to disseminate propaganda; unofficially, they run the underground project, Korematsu. They resist authorities through their dissenting newspapers, which is named after the civil rights activist who refused the government’s incarceration camps for Japanese Americans in 1942.

Nguyen explores the ideas of the importance of sharing cultural information, using others’ oppression for one’s gain, and telling a victim of trauma’s story without nuance. First, the distribution of culturally significant moments. This reminds me of Dua’s Service95, created to distill globally consequential facts into weekly curated newsletters. Without a connection to the internet, Korematsu traffics cultural information through person-to-person hand-off. Moreover, the community’s transmission and access to culture “was the key to the Viet’s survival in camp, both as a way to make it through day to day and also as a way to finally make it out.” I wonder if Nguyen overstates this point; I will need to think about it more. Second, Ursula makes a habit of exploiting others’ experiences. She secures a coveted position with the New York Times and signs a lucrative deal with Netflix. But she fibs about her close relationship with her half-brother Duncan, who was killed in Camp Tacoma, to lean into the narrative about the camp’s atrocities and austere conditions. Third, Jen is so devastated by her loss that she joins her father’s vagabond lifestyle. Yet, she refuses to leave joy and resilience out of her retelling of her experience. Nguyen feels the rich textures of the survivors’ meaningful lives that do not cruelly dehumanize Vietnamese people.

The book’s premise remains intriguing to me. However, the characters and the story feel significantly underdeveloped, giving Mỹ Documents a YA quality. I can’t think of one character whose situation (e.g., intentions, problems, possible solutions) is sufficiently explored. I can’t decide which gaps are the most significantly unsettling: the dad’s state before the camp, the mom’s condition after the camp, or the brothers’ storylines, especially following Duncan’s death. Also, what happened to Dennis? My questions abound. As for the characters’ physical descriptions, Nguyen’s four siblings sound like traditionally polished all-Americans. It’s a good thing Andrea Long Chu published Authority before Mỹ Documents came out, or else she may have also come for Nguyen’s “mixed Asian” (to follow Chu’s “imperfect shorthand”) main characters who carry the weight of “fully Asian writers[’] . . . racial anxieties.” I rate Mỹ Documents 1.5 stars.

[Donna Davis · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars, rounded upward.

My Documents is the sophomore novel of author Kevin Nguyen. This story reimagines the internment of Japanese-American citizens during World War II, asking instead, what if it was happening now, and what if those imprisoned were of Vietnamese descent?

My thanks go to Random House and NetGalley for the invitation to read and review. This book is available to the public now.

Our protagonists are four young people, all of whom are cousins with the same last name as the author. Ursula is an ambitious journalist living in Manhattan; Jen attends New York University, partly because she hopes to connect more often with Ursula. Alvin is an engineering intern at Google; Duncan is still in high school. When the internment comes, Ursula and Alvin are spared, but Jen and Duncan are forced into a concentration camp.

This book is imaginative, and I liked the characters. We see how the internment affects those that are imprisoned, but also how their internment affects Ursula and Alvin on the outside; ultimately, of course, the family’s dynamics are altered forever.

The humor that is highlighted in the synopsis failed to materialize for me. There was the odd chuckle or two, but no more than I would expect to find in any novel. This is pretty common. However, I found myself feeling a bit cheated at the end, because there was so much more that could have been done here. I felt as if a real statement could have been made, but the opportunity was squandered.

Nevertheless, I see Nguyen as a promising author, and one whose work I will continue to follow.

[Amber · Rating 4 out of 5]

ARC gifted by the publisher & ALC by prhaudio

I flew through this dystopia of Vietnamese internment camps about race and privilege in a day. Fans of THE DREAM HOTEL (Laila Lalami) will find this book similarly compelling, chilling, and perhaps not so distant from the future. I especially appreciate how the author explores the outcome of 4 different siblings, 2 who look visibly asian with Vietnamese lastnames, and 2 wasians grew up with their white moms & are more white passing. It's a more commercial work written through multi-POV, and because of that it feel a bit more surface level if you're looking for a deep exploration of race.

[Mikala · Rating 5 out of 5]

Part Farewell to Manzanar: A True Story of Japanese American Experience During and After the World War II Internment, part The Man in the High Castle, My Documents is somehow a terrifying and yet, dull look at alternative outcomes from terrorism in the US. I don't mean dull in the sense that the book is unexciting, only that the response to thousands of US citizens being rounded up, stripped of their rights and homes, results in, well, nothing - just silence from the rest of the US. Of course we all know the famous saying - when they came for me there was no one left, and yet, we can see it happening now - everyone is just a little too scared to stand up for someone else or risk losing what little protection and privilege they have.
This would be such an excellent choice for a book club or group read. There are so many off-handed quotable lines and I suspect that different parts and characters will prick people in different ways.
I really enjoyed (and also was annoyed by) the ending and lack of a clear takeaway. I suspect that is the point - what was the point of imprisoning all these people - in this fictional world and also in the real world? What was gained? What was lost?
If you liked this, I also suggest American War.

[Steph | bookedinsaigon · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thank you to One World and NetGalley for the free e-ARC in exchange for an honest review

DNFed at 33%. I was looking forward to this one SO much, but felt let down by it. I ended up liking the eerily believable dystopian premise--a terrorist threat in the near future causes the US government to jump to round up Vietnamese Americans in interment camps reminiscent of those used to detain Japanese Americans during World War II--far more than the way in which Nguyen executed the idea.

This is very much a character-driven, and not a plot-driven, novel, and this is to the story's detriment. The first fifth or so of the novel jumps back and forth between the perspectives of our four main characters: Ursula, Alvin, Jen, and Duncan. Except that I found these opening chapters boring and unsuccessful in giving me a clear idea of what these characters are like. These character sketches feel flat. All I learned from the beginning was that Alvin is your typical new tech bro in the Valley; Duncan is an athlete who is self-conscious about his size; Jen is a university student trying to find a community with her school's Asian American crowd and yearning for Ursula's regard; and Ursula... Ursula was probably the most interesting, because we spent the most time with her, but she's still just a basic budding journalist trying to make it big with a good scoop. It wasn't enough for me to know them, nor to feel anything for them.

Then suddenly the pivotal event of the terrorist attacks happened, and the book seems to skip all the important details to land, belly-flop, in the middle of the detention camps. We don't learn the details of why the terrorist attacks happened. Why were Vietnamese (Americans?) attacking? Beyond for the internment order, how did the rest of society respond?

Then we get to the internment camps and details grow even fuzzier. Apparently the camps were hastily put together, but that still doesn't excuse the fact that I am unclear what they look like. In what part of the country are they located? What is the terrain like? How big is the camp and how many people are detained there? What is the layout of the buildings? Nguyen unfortunately skips over all of the world-building and instead chooses to linger on storylines that feel detached due to the trouble I had with envisioning the camps. We start hearing about all the contraband that's being smuggled into the camps. (But what was security even like, to enable this to happen?) There's a smuggling operation that apparently runs very smoothly. (Huh??)

So... yeah. I had trouble believing the world that Nguyen attempted to paint a picture of. Combined with my inability to know and understand the four main characters, and the result was that it was all too easy for me to put this book down and never come back to it again.

[Will · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Clare Mulroy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A gravely important book that will stay with me for a long time.

Kevin Nguyen’s characters feel full and real, his prose quickly captivating and his themes dystopian yet all too familiar. What a powerful commentary on the use of language to persuade and propagate, the narratives we tell ourselves and people without power. Who benefits? Who suffers? Who wins and loses?

“There’s the saying that history is always written by the victors. But that assumes a winner and a loser. A more accurate saying would be that history is a reflection of who had power, and how they flattered themselves.”

[Trina · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you NetGalley for the ARC! This is an excellent book that I will definitely promote on my shelves. I would love to see students read it alongside the YA book Internment by Samira Ahmed to see how a similar theme can be expressed very differently. I deeply appreciate the family layers in this (Ursula---argh) and the examination of trauma reporting and dehumanization. Excellent writing too!

[Cheer is Currently Reading · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s been a while since a book has made me cry. It hit too close to home given the current political climate in America. This story is about a dystopia scenario that seemed too entirely feasible. But Nguyen’s book beautifully depicted the struggles of family dynamics. I highly recommend for anyone who felt like an outsider in this world and trying to find their sense of belonging and create some normalcy in the chaos of this world.

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

The truth is what unites Asian Americans is racism. from Mỹ Documents by Kevin Nguyen

We put Japanese Americans into camps after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. And after 9-11 there was a backlash against anyone who even appeared to be of Middle Eastern or Muslim heritage. ICE arrests even legal immigrants if they are from Central America. Mỹ Documents imagines America will always respond the same way–racial profiling and rounding up people we fear into camps or prisons.

In Mỹ Documents, series of terrorist bombings perpetrated by people of Vietnamese heritage causes Congress to pass the American Advanced Protection Initiative, the AAPI. You know, the same initials as Asian American and Pacific Islander.

…”internment” was still a euphemism masking what it truly was: incarceration. from Mỹ Documents by Kevin Nguyen

Vietnamese Americans are forced into makeshift, inadequate camps where suffering and violence and suicide abounds. One hundred thousand are in first generation VIetnamese American Jen’s camp. A black market rises disseminating computers and flash drives with entertainment and news. Jen writes for an underground camp newspaper and feeds stories to Ursula, her mixed race cousin who works for a newspaper, prompting a huge career boost.

Meantime, Jen’s brother Duncan finds fame on the camp football team. Ursula’s brother Alvin works for Google who protects him as essential–until he shares disturbing insider information with Ursula.

But Jen’s paper isn’t the only source of news in camp. Her competition sells disinformation, and resorts to violence when threatened.

Meanwhile, their father Dan, who was a child when his family fled after the Communists took over Saigon, is determined to escape the camps and disappears, living out of his truck. “To survive, you must be selfish,” his mother said as they fled Saigon. But Dan comes to understand that survival was not a selfish act–living was.

Truly disturbing, this dark humor novel about how one family experiences the worst racial policies America has ever enacted is an intense page-turner–and a warning.

Thanks to the publisher for a free book through NetGalley.

[Leigh R (: · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5/5⭐️
Rating this book this low of a rating makes me sad, since the premise and potential of this book was there, but the execution of this book sadly wasn’t.

For starters, gosh all of the characters in this book, in my opinion, were deeply flawed, and not in and interesting way to read about, they all just kinda sucked and weren’t very in touch with their morals. When they did go through hardships in this book (which believe me, they did) none of their experiences were hashed out and given any description, so it was hard for me as a reader to emphasize with them.

Also, the exploration of Vietnamese internment camps was not described in detail, which I personally feel that if it was it would have pushed the whole point home of how racism and oppression was prevalent for all of these characters, whether by first hand experiences or by their family members. Instead, we as the reader were told a lot about the hardships that Vietnamese people faced in these camps, yet not shown, which ultimately made me feel disconnected from the messaging and cast of characters in this book.

With all of this being said though, I did appreciate the sprinkling of social commentary about some of the characters in this book being “white passing,” delving into the privileges that they are granted opposed to their non white passing family members. I also found that the commentary on how important journalism is for highlighting atrocities, to bring awareness and empathy to what Vietnamese prisoners were dealing with in this book to be educational and a plot point that made me feel more connected and empathic to the characters in this book.

[Ashby Dodd · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Documents is one of those books that doesn't feel like fiction—it feels like a warning. A little too close to home, especially in 2025. Kevin Nguyen has crafted a dystopian story that reads like it could happen next week. Honestly, that's what makes it so powerful.

The story follows four Vietnamese American cousins—Ursula, Alvin, Jen, and Duncan—as a wave of national panic leads to the forced internment of Vietnamese Americans. Some are sent to camps, some are exempt, and others watch from the outside. What unfolds is a gut-punch of a family story, full of complicated choices, blurred lines between right and wrong, and the harsh reality that sometimes, even the right thing has devastating consequences.

I was especially drawn to how Nguyen shows each side of the experience—those inside the camps, those left out, and those trying to make sense of it all. The characters are vivid and fully human, each carrying their own mix of fear, hope, and guilt. And despite the heavy subject, there are moments of dry humor and warmth that catch you off guard in the best way.

This was my first Kevin Nguyen book, but definitely not my last. My Documents is smart, timely, and deeply moving. I can't recommend it enough.

Thank you to NetGalley, Random House, and One World for an advanced reader's copy; all opinions expressed in this review are my own.

[Matt Walter · Rating 3 out of 5]

While reading this an image went viral of a group of Latin American migrants forming the letters SOS in an American detention facility. It is objectively terrifying that the hypothetical situation laid out in this book is so plausible in 2025.

While the concept of a modern day internment system is thought provoking, and the author gives an admirable level of detail to life in the camps, the writing itself felt flat. It’s clear that Nguyen is a journalist, not a novelist. There is very little style to his prose, and moments that should have great emotional weight fail to hit hard. The narrative decision to follow four different characters simultaneously was interesting. On one hand it creates a broader lens of experience around how this event might impact people’s lives. But it also means the writing is spread too thinly between the four stories so that the reader can’t fully embed themselves in any one of them. Personally I would have loved a full novel on Dan’s plot line. All in all this was mid for me.

[Cullen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book starts with a great premise and executes it well. It's almost alternate history but set in the present, bringing the stain of racist internment camps into modern-day America.

Initially, I was hooked and thought it could be a five-star read. While others may love it, the author focused on aspects that didn’t resonate with me personally and glossed over areas I was eager to explore further. Ultimately, the story felt smaller in scope than I had anticipated. That’s perfectly fine—it just didn’t fully align with what I was looking for.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC opportunity.

[Stacy40pages · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Documents by Kevin Nguyen. Thanks to @oneworld for the gifted Arc ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

After several domestic attacks by Vietnamese individuals, America puts its Vietnamese citizens in internment camps. My Documents is one family’s story as we follow different members.

This was a terrifying book to read right now with American’s current immigration policy and lack of DEI and civil rights protections. This book felt like it took place in today’s times and felt so real. I could 100% see things going down exactly as they did in this story. I loved the different perspectives and how we get different looks at the situation. Anyone interested in journalistic perspective will definitely find this one interesting. There is a perspective from the outside reporting on the camps and one from inside printing underground materials. This is a great read, although there were some parts towards the end that dragged a bit but then it would pick up again.

My Documents comes out 4/8.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good stuff - another truly fleshed out novel!! Phew. I was beginning to think I was only spoiled for choice on the circling-the-bowl no-way-out autofiction thing.

It sounds like many people are unnerved by the prescience of this story. I’m watching “The Good Fight” on TV right now, and that too is a show people are amazed at for its prescience. And here’s what I’m beginning to think. The prescience isn’t some unique, linear ability to forecast. It’s more like…quilting? You take the fragments of reality in character, environment, fate, and free will, and you rearrange them, and out comes…

Well authoritarianism, I guess. Given those two examples.

One reason I kind of doubt I’ll ever be a novelist is that I’ve never had the experience of daydreaming about what new escapades my characters got into. But I’ve heard that’s real, and novelists are almost stenographers of their characters, patiently revealing what choices and fates the characters face. In other words, they let them go, they let them be people who exist outside of their own autofictional universe. And I am just so relieved that there are writers out there who (apparently) believe that’s the work of fiction - as a blurb on the back put it, “ultimately, My Documents is a moving portrait of the kind of people we become when we are trying to survive.”

I may never write a novel, but I can use all the help I can get in the life project of changing and surviving.

[Mindy]

“Violence doesn’t demand an explanation. No, violence just creates excuses for itself.”

This is an interesting one. I went into this novel knowing nothing, and I found its alternate history (er, present?) and examination of political detention/imprisonment interesting, especially given what is actively happening in the US now. Talk about timely. Using the perspectives of the different family members to criticize how stories of violence and oppression are told made everything that much harder hitting and relatively nuanced. Jen was, without a doubt, my favorite perspective to read from, and I found myself screaming along with her at the injustices she faced not just from the government but from her own family.

I did, however, find myself wanting something… more. It felt like there was some untapped potential, but even I couldn’t tell you exactly what else I wanted from this book, so maybe it’s a problem with me. Very interested to read more of Kevin Nguyen’s work!

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

A book that feels necessary for our time - even if it is supposed to be set in some sort of dystopian hellscape. It feels like it could very much happen today. I loved it, have not stopped talking about it, everyone needs to read it.

[Mallory · Rating 5 out of 5]

Literally finished seconds ago. I am floored. A masterpiece and honestly of the best books I have read in a while. Still sorting my thoughts out, there is so much to unpack, I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed. Possibly one of the most important/urgent works of speculative fiction, especially in our contemporary geo-political moment. These characters, this story….I am stunned.

Developing…

[Emma Dudrick · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting and disturbing! The plot pretty reasonable given the current administration, which is freaky! I wanted this to be like Our Missing Hearts where things feel slightly off but still like the current US, and the reader has to figure out what changes have taken place. This book over-explained all of the changes to the point that it didn’t really feel like speculative fiction. Good not great!

[Lauren · Rating 3 out of 5]

hmmm. I was really excited during the first half and then the second half felt like something was missing??? I wanted something more?? Did I miss the point? I need to deep dive with someone

I’d give it a 3.75 if I could

[Queena Roquemore · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars, rounded up.

I really, really enjoyed this book. It's probably my favorite read/listen so far this year.

The story was both heartbreaking and hauntingly realistic, with a dystopian world that felt disturbingly possible (especially given the political climate we're in). My one small gripe is that I found parts of the ending a little anticlimactic. But overall, this one will stick with me.