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Patchwork Dolls
In this debut story collection, Ysabelle Cheung weaves an eerie fabulism with tales that cross continents, technology, and time.
Set in Hong Kong and America—between the present day and an uncannily altered future—this story collection warps the familiar rules of our world to what does it mean to be Asian and a woman—living under the specter of state and technological surveillance—or trying to break free from it?
In the title story, a young woman of color realizes she can make her fortune by surgically selling her facial features to whiter, wealthier clients. In “Please, Get Out and Dance,” a group of rebels escapes a city that is literally disappearing around them—building by building, person by person—to migrate to a new home beneath the ocean, defying their government’s mandate. “Herbs” follows an elderly widow who, when the clones of her dead husband start to appear uninvited in her home, must grapple with her memories.
In each of these stories, Cheung tilts the world just slightly off its axis to bring together a haunting meditation on what it means to survive within our increasingly digitized and mechanized world.
Set in Hong Kong and America—between the present day and an uncannily altered future—this story collection warps the familiar rules of our world to what does it mean to be Asian and a woman—living under the specter of state and technological surveillance—or trying to break free from it?
In the title story, a young woman of color realizes she can make her fortune by surgically selling her facial features to whiter, wealthier clients. In “Please, Get Out and Dance,” a group of rebels escapes a city that is literally disappearing around them—building by building, person by person—to migrate to a new home beneath the ocean, defying their government’s mandate. “Herbs” follows an elderly widow who, when the clones of her dead husband start to appear uninvited in her home, must grapple with her memories.
In each of these stories, Cheung tilts the world just slightly off its axis to bring together a haunting meditation on what it means to survive within our increasingly digitized and mechanized world.
- GenresShort StoriesFiction
212 pages, Paperback
Published February 10, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 2, 2025
Ysabelle Cheung’s exquisite stories unfold in surreal, imagined versions of Hong Kong and New York, contorted yet instantly recognisable. Her unsettling narratives frequently depict instances of transformation, dislocation and trauma. Disciplined, exceptionally well-crafted, Cheung’s pieces can be wry and acerbic but they can also be intimate, lyrical, even tender. The disturbingly matter-of-fact title piece and the uncanny “Mycomorphosis” explore the fallout from differing manifestations of gendered, racist violence. “Mycomorphosis” is set in a post-Covid New York where hate crimes towards anyone who has – or is perceived to have – Chinese heritage have skyrocketed. It’s focused on a woman who’s survived one such brutal, disfiguring attack. As this isolated character embraces a mysterious process of mutation, Cheung’s unfolding plot recalls aspects of Kafka as well as Ishirō Honda’s infamous, mushroom people. But Cheung’s character’s suffering doesn’t lead to inevitable destruction instead she enters a state of being that’s bizarrely beautiful, holding out hope of catharsis and community. The inventive title piece introduces Sophia Leung one of many so-called patchwork dolls. Sophia makes a living selling off parts of her face and body, catering to wealthy, white women who crave the ‘ethnically ambiguous’ features now in vogue. Cheung uses Leung’s predicament to reflect on the commodification and fetishization of non-white bodies, questioning whether it’s ever possible for the marginalised to be complicit in their own exploitation.
Cheung acknowledges the influence of writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Angela Carter and Dorothy Tse. However, in addition to publishing short stories, Cheung’s an art critic and Hong Kong gallerist which also informs her fiction. She’s particularly inspired by Yayoi Kasama and Louise Bourgeois but equally by a host of up-and-coming local artists. Initially constructed from disparate visual fragments “Please, Get Out and Dance” is an oblique commentary on creeping authoritarianism and the brutal repression of Hong Kong’s protest movement. It works well paired with “Not In This Neighbourhood” and “The Reader.” The latter is both act of resistance and a deeply unconventional representation of a Hong Kong characterised by state violence, sweeping censorship, and coercive, collective amnesia; while “Not In This Neighbourhood” carefully critiques the kind of appallingly exaggerated, anti-immigrant rhetoric spouted by politicians like Trump.
Cheung doesn’t adhere to conventional genre boundaries, she much prefers fluidity, variously incorporating aspects of speculative fiction, body horror and magical realism into her work. “Find Your Spirit” is an unusual variation on a ghost story in which an app allows a woman in mourning to track her dead sister through the streets of Hong Kong. Technological developments also dominate in “Galatea” which references the popular myth via its CompanionDolls but isn’t so much a rewriting as a feminist refusal; while the rueful “Herb” uses cloning to meditate on the challenges of long-term relationships lending new meaning to the notion of starting over. In the memorable “The In-Between” Chinese British Rachel and Japanese American John are a London couple, brought together through innovations in dating services. It’s a remarkably fertile examination of the commercial, social and cultural constraints encroaching on our most personal space.
If there’s a unifying theme to the collection, or at least one that resurfaces throughout, it’s most likely understood as a respectful rescripting and/or borrowing from the Welsh concept of hiraeth – cited by Cheung in interviews and in her non-fiction. Hiraeth is slippery, difficult to define but conjures a sense of grief and deeply-felt yearning for severed connections, what’s lost or unrecoverable: home, culture, identity, language. I’ve no idea what others will make of this one but I loved it, I thought it was fiercely intelligent, arresting and consistently impressive.
Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher Blair for an ARC
Rating: 4.5
Cheung acknowledges the influence of writers like Carmen Maria Machado, Angela Carter and Dorothy Tse. However, in addition to publishing short stories, Cheung’s an art critic and Hong Kong gallerist which also informs her fiction. She’s particularly inspired by Yayoi Kasama and Louise Bourgeois but equally by a host of up-and-coming local artists. Initially constructed from disparate visual fragments “Please, Get Out and Dance” is an oblique commentary on creeping authoritarianism and the brutal repression of Hong Kong’s protest movement. It works well paired with “Not In This Neighbourhood” and “The Reader.” The latter is both act of resistance and a deeply unconventional representation of a Hong Kong characterised by state violence, sweeping censorship, and coercive, collective amnesia; while “Not In This Neighbourhood” carefully critiques the kind of appallingly exaggerated, anti-immigrant rhetoric spouted by politicians like Trump.
Cheung doesn’t adhere to conventional genre boundaries, she much prefers fluidity, variously incorporating aspects of speculative fiction, body horror and magical realism into her work. “Find Your Spirit” is an unusual variation on a ghost story in which an app allows a woman in mourning to track her dead sister through the streets of Hong Kong. Technological developments also dominate in “Galatea” which references the popular myth via its CompanionDolls but isn’t so much a rewriting as a feminist refusal; while the rueful “Herb” uses cloning to meditate on the challenges of long-term relationships lending new meaning to the notion of starting over. In the memorable “The In-Between” Chinese British Rachel and Japanese American John are a London couple, brought together through innovations in dating services. It’s a remarkably fertile examination of the commercial, social and cultural constraints encroaching on our most personal space.
If there’s a unifying theme to the collection, or at least one that resurfaces throughout, it’s most likely understood as a respectful rescripting and/or borrowing from the Welsh concept of hiraeth – cited by Cheung in interviews and in her non-fiction. Hiraeth is slippery, difficult to define but conjures a sense of grief and deeply-felt yearning for severed connections, what’s lost or unrecoverable: home, culture, identity, language. I’ve no idea what others will make of this one but I loved it, I thought it was fiercely intelligent, arresting and consistently impressive.
Thanks to Edelweiss and publisher Blair for an ARC
Rating: 4.5
January 31, 2026
*3.75 stars rounded up
Patchwork Dolls sits firmly in lit fic with speculative elements. Fans of Carmen Maria Machado will probably love this collection. I liked a lot of the concepts Cheung was playing with, even when the stories made me uncomfortable or uneasy.
The ordering of the collection didn’t work for me. Opening with “Mycomorphosis” was a weak choice. It didn’t grab my attention, and I kept thinking it would have worked much better as the final story to wrap everything up. “Not in This Neighborhood” would have been a stronger way to start the book and set expectations right away, especially in setting clear the themes.
The standouts for me were “Herbs” and “The In-Between,” both of which I loved. Those stories felt the most complete and were the ones I kept thinking about after finishing the book. They also were the two stories that look strongly at relationships. “Patchwork Girls” was a close runner up with its powerful message. A lot of the stories edged on sci-fi and reminded me of Black Mirror, which I enjoyed.
While I appreciated the story concepts and ideas, some of the more speculative elements just weren’t for me. However, that’s more of a personal preference and my dislike for the ambiguous. Even so, this is a collection I’m glad I read, and I’d absolutely pick up more from Cheung in the future.
Thank you to Blair Publisher and Ysabelle Cheung for the ARC. Releasing 2/10/2026!
Patchwork Dolls sits firmly in lit fic with speculative elements. Fans of Carmen Maria Machado will probably love this collection. I liked a lot of the concepts Cheung was playing with, even when the stories made me uncomfortable or uneasy.
The ordering of the collection didn’t work for me. Opening with “Mycomorphosis” was a weak choice. It didn’t grab my attention, and I kept thinking it would have worked much better as the final story to wrap everything up. “Not in This Neighborhood” would have been a stronger way to start the book and set expectations right away, especially in setting clear the themes.
The standouts for me were “Herbs” and “The In-Between,” both of which I loved. Those stories felt the most complete and were the ones I kept thinking about after finishing the book. They also were the two stories that look strongly at relationships. “Patchwork Girls” was a close runner up with its powerful message. A lot of the stories edged on sci-fi and reminded me of Black Mirror, which I enjoyed.
While I appreciated the story concepts and ideas, some of the more speculative elements just weren’t for me. However, that’s more of a personal preference and my dislike for the ambiguous. Even so, this is a collection I’m glad I read, and I’d absolutely pick up more from Cheung in the future.
Thank you to Blair Publisher and Ysabelle Cheung for the ARC. Releasing 2/10/2026!
February 4, 2026
Thank you Blair Publishing for providing me with an ARC!
A total of ten stories. They’re emotional, they’re quirky, and some even dystopian. It’s hard to describe the feelings i get when i was reading this book, because part of me understands that i needed to leave everything i think i know about “reading” at the door. Many rules don’t apply here, and that’s the beauty of creativity.
There’s a lot of topics that are repeatedly touched on here, including a sense of belonging, race, fitting in, grief, or simply just trying to survive. The three stories that stood out to me the most were: Galatea, Herbs, and The In-Between. If you want your short stories a bit eccentric, thoughtful, and creative, this is for you.
Remember those choose your own adventure books you used to read as a kid? I’m happy to say that one of the short stories is in that format. That brought me so much joy.
A total of ten stories. They’re emotional, they’re quirky, and some even dystopian. It’s hard to describe the feelings i get when i was reading this book, because part of me understands that i needed to leave everything i think i know about “reading” at the door. Many rules don’t apply here, and that’s the beauty of creativity.
There’s a lot of topics that are repeatedly touched on here, including a sense of belonging, race, fitting in, grief, or simply just trying to survive. The three stories that stood out to me the most were: Galatea, Herbs, and The In-Between. If you want your short stories a bit eccentric, thoughtful, and creative, this is for you.
Remember those choose your own adventure books you used to read as a kid? I’m happy to say that one of the short stories is in that format. That brought me so much joy.
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
set across Hong Kong and America, Patchwork Dolls explores Asian womanhood, surveillance, migration, grief, and identity through eerie, speculative fiction (think Black Mirror)
Cheung writes about bodies as data, memory as something editable, and technology as both companion & threat. there are stories about selling facial features, brain fungus made visible, apps that track the dead, and migrating to an underwater city because the one you love is disappearing.
I’ll be honest: the first story made me so uncomfortable it almost turned me off the whole collection. and now, having finished it, I’m convinced that was the point.
this book is going to ask you to sit with discomfort, especially around how Asian women’s bodies & lives are watched, consumed, & commodified
Cheung writes about bodies as data, memory as something editable, and technology as both companion & threat. there are stories about selling facial features, brain fungus made visible, apps that track the dead, and migrating to an underwater city because the one you love is disappearing.
I’ll be honest: the first story made me so uncomfortable it almost turned me off the whole collection. and now, having finished it, I’m convinced that was the point.
this book is going to ask you to sit with discomfort, especially around how Asian women’s bodies & lives are watched, consumed, & commodified
Review of advance copy received from Edelweiss+
When I see the news and ask my friends in HK when they’ll return to North America, they remind me that they’re already home.
Cheung’s collection of speculiterary short stories exhibits an array of imaginative pieces. The work presents vapors of dystopian, sci-fi, magical realism, and fantasy (ghosts), and Cheung fashions each story uniquely, offering distinguishing marks on the literary level. This makes drinking in her book all the more enjoyable.
For example, Mycomorphosis produces intensely visceral sensations, tickling readers’ ear canals; the author writes Galatea in second person, giving it an RPG feel with a director leading your character’s progression; and Not in This Neighborhood incorporates extraterrestrial creatures seeking asylum as a foil for authoritarian regimes. Furthermore, the stories’ variation in length, such as the shorter Galatea and the longer The In-Between, coalesce with a clarion yet gentle narrative voice. I’m not an expert on writing forms, let alone a short story one, but I surmise that Cheung’s Patchwork Dolls exemplifies the book-length short story format well. I adored the author’s periodic insertion of captivating phrases—“[mushrooms] spawn in her bathroom”; “ruining your eyesight and your mother’s patience”; and “Something small and quiet grieves in your body.” In sum, the variation of lengths stirred into the mixture of realistic history and “resistance and survival through literature” emulsifies into ten remarkably crafty packages.
What a wonderful work. Thank you, Cheung.
My thanks also to Blair and Edelweiss for a DRC.
Cheung’s collection of speculiterary short stories exhibits an array of imaginative pieces. The work presents vapors of dystopian, sci-fi, magical realism, and fantasy (ghosts), and Cheung fashions each story uniquely, offering distinguishing marks on the literary level. This makes drinking in her book all the more enjoyable.
For example, Mycomorphosis produces intensely visceral sensations, tickling readers’ ear canals; the author writes Galatea in second person, giving it an RPG feel with a director leading your character’s progression; and Not in This Neighborhood incorporates extraterrestrial creatures seeking asylum as a foil for authoritarian regimes. Furthermore, the stories’ variation in length, such as the shorter Galatea and the longer The In-Between, coalesce with a clarion yet gentle narrative voice. I’m not an expert on writing forms, let alone a short story one, but I surmise that Cheung’s Patchwork Dolls exemplifies the book-length short story format well. I adored the author’s periodic insertion of captivating phrases—“[mushrooms] spawn in her bathroom”; “ruining your eyesight and your mother’s patience”; and “Something small and quiet grieves in your body.” In sum, the variation of lengths stirred into the mixture of realistic history and “resistance and survival through literature” emulsifies into ten remarkably crafty packages.
What a wonderful work. Thank you, Cheung.
My thanks also to Blair and Edelweiss for a DRC.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews