Literature & Fiction
![Jinwoo Chong - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B0BYF7CN2D.jpg)
Flux
"Flux happily offers a moving appraisal of lives buffeted by personal and systemic traumas; a deep dive into the good, the bad and the ugly of self-serving corporate culture; and no shortage of "wait, what the heck just happened?" thrills." -- The New York Times Book Review
"Brazen, exhilarating, fun, and surprising! I couldn't predict where this novel was going, but I was definitely along for the ride." -- Ling Ma, author of Severance
A blazingly original and stylish debut novel about a young man whose reality unravels when he suspects his mysterious employers have inadvertently discovered time travel-and are using it to cover up a string of violent crimes . . .
Four days before Christmas, 8-year-old Bo loses his mother in a tragic accident, 28-year-old Brandon loses his job after a hostile takeover of his big-media employer, and 48-year-old Blue, a key witness in a criminal trial against an infamous now-defunct tech startup, struggles to reconnect with his family.
So begins Jinwoo Chong's dazzling, time-bending debut that blends elements of neo-noir and speculative fiction as the lives of Bo, Brandon, and Blue begin to intersect, uncovering a vast network of secrets and an experimental technology that threatens to upend life itself. Intertwined with them is the saga of an iconic '80s detective show, Raider, whose star actor has imploded spectacularly after revelations of long-term, concealed abuse.
Flux is a haunting and sometimes shocking exploration of the cyclical nature of grief, of moving past trauma, and of the pervasive nature of whiteness within the development of Asian identity in America.
"Brazen, exhilarating, fun, and surprising! I couldn't predict where this novel was going, but I was definitely along for the ride." -- Ling Ma, author of Severance
A blazingly original and stylish debut novel about a young man whose reality unravels when he suspects his mysterious employers have inadvertently discovered time travel-and are using it to cover up a string of violent crimes . . .
Four days before Christmas, 8-year-old Bo loses his mother in a tragic accident, 28-year-old Brandon loses his job after a hostile takeover of his big-media employer, and 48-year-old Blue, a key witness in a criminal trial against an infamous now-defunct tech startup, struggles to reconnect with his family.
So begins Jinwoo Chong's dazzling, time-bending debut that blends elements of neo-noir and speculative fiction as the lives of Bo, Brandon, and Blue begin to intersect, uncovering a vast network of secrets and an experimental technology that threatens to upend life itself. Intertwined with them is the saga of an iconic '80s detective show, Raider, whose star actor has imploded spectacularly after revelations of long-term, concealed abuse.
Flux is a haunting and sometimes shocking exploration of the cyclical nature of grief, of moving past trauma, and of the pervasive nature of whiteness within the development of Asian identity in America.
Editorial Reviews
Your line was always: "give me a reason." Always. And forget the fact that it was and continues to be the cheesiest TV-pilot-gravel-voiced-detective-mystery catchphrase ever written. It was your thing, you were the guy who wanted everybody in the world to give you a reason, the reason, any reason, and for the most part, for most of the episodes through 1985 and 1986, people did. When you said it, the world was right. Your writers were genius. They kept us-kept me-coming back because, above all, we loved you too much to see you fail. That's why the show worked. After the rocky pilot and early yarns, you found your footing with the Little China episode (season 1, episode 14, "Fractures of the Heart"), after which you were unstoppable. They loved your chiseled face, your dark aura and hard eyes. You were handsome, cunning, young-one of the youngest detectives on the force, you fulfilled the legacy of your dead mother and father, killed in a home invasion when you were a child (retconned as such season 2, episode 4, "Anytime, Anyplace," from a house fire mentioned in the pilot). You got what you wanted, you nailed them, every time, you were a step ahead, a bar above. I loved you. For real, man, I loved you. I hate what's become of you, what they say about you, that you're derivative, that you're toxic, because none of it is your fault. Because every day after school I was the kid busting out the tapes and watching the scratchy reruns from the '80s until I was yelled at. I still have all the episodes, digitized and saved on a flash drive that I play on my laptop to fall asleep. My mother never liked the show, saying always it was too violent. She didn't like the guns and didn't understand that was just the way of your world like I did. You want a reason, Thomas Raider, a reason, the reason it all happened, and I'll give it to you. This pisses you off; you want answers now, I'm sure, and to that I'll say this: do yourself a favor, play a little pretend with me. It should be easy for you. You're not even real.
The dumbest part about the way they've been tearing you down lately is that they're all forgetting the fact that Raider defined an entire genre of television. Three years after Hill Street Blues, two after Cagney & Lacey, this was a show that played in the dark. You know why you only did two seasons? Your critics weren't ready for you, they couldn't take the blood and the bodies, too detailed, too ghastly for the 4:3 aspect ratio. Conservative pearl clutchers chided your drinking and sexing, th...
The dumbest part about the way they've been tearing you down lately is that they're all forgetting the fact that Raider defined an entire genre of television. Three years after Hill Street Blues, two after Cagney & Lacey, this was a show that played in the dark. You know why you only did two seasons? Your critics weren't ready for you, they couldn't take the blood and the bodies, too detailed, too ghastly for the 4:3 aspect ratio. Conservative pearl clutchers chided your drinking and sexing, th...
Readers Top Reviews
craigr1971MelissaB
Already blessed by Amazon and critics to be a blazing success I just have to say, huh? I got the free sample on Kindle. I made it through 5-6 pages. This "science fiction" books starts out -- and ended for me -- with a guy berating a fictitious TV detective character from the 1980s. And then the guy kept yelling at, scolding, and really abusing the heck out of this poor fictitious TV detective character from the 1980s. Like, hello, SciFi tropes and plots, where are you? Like, enough with the tongue lashing beginning. Jinwoo, maybe try a writing trick like "setting a hook" so I buy in. Or maybe expose a little clue as to why this is labeled SciFi and also please show me why Amazon and the critics have blessed you with this fantastic chance to wow me. When it comes to critical acclaim, you know what? I just plain give up.
EKK44
One of the best books I’ve read in a long time. The author’s voice is a breath of fresh air—unique, engaging, energetic, and fun. Multi-genre, multi faceted and new—Flux is the kind of book that can unite mystery, drama and sci-fi lovers. The NYT gave a stellar review and they got it right. Read this! This will make for a phenomenal film / TV show adaptation in my opinion. I have no doubt we will be seeing more of Mr. Chong
Dinanand
OMG OMG OMG Get this book. Not just because it's been heralded as one to read, and Jinwoo Chung as an author to watch. Not just because of the glowing review in the NYT Books, and not just because it's a complex and nuanced look at our current world through the eyes of individuals that don't always have a voice. I love this book because I know Jinwoo Chong! He was my student at my high school - a gifted and kind tutor. What an amazing feeling to know the person behind this book that will make top ten lists all year! ANYWAY, Flux is aptly named as nothing stand still for long as we learn more and more about three males - 8 year old Bo, 28 year old Brandon and 48 year old Blue. The three are related in some way, revealed at the end and as we learn about their lives, Chong adds speculative fiction elements in time traveling and a noirish component via an 80's detective show. Admiss their travails there is corporate espionage, tech startup culture, gay life, and the everyday indignities of contemporary life in America. The structure, plotting and pacing is perfect and I cannot wait to see what this 27 year old writes next! if you love contemporary fiction, the novels of David Mitchell or Charles Yu, or are just read to see what the new young guns are writing about, Flux is for you!
Short Excerpt Teaser
Your line was always: "give me a reason." Always. And forget the fact that it was and continues to be the cheesiest TV-pilot-gravel-voiced-detective-mystery catchphrase ever written. It was your thing, you were the guy who wanted everybody in the world to give you a reason, the reason, any reason, and for the most part, for most of the episodes through 1985 and 1986, people did. When you said it, the world was right. Your writers were genius. They kept us-kept me-coming back because, above all, we loved you too much to see you fail. That's why the show worked. After the rocky pilot and early yarns, you found your footing with the Little China episode (season 1, episode 14, "Fractures of the Heart"), after which you were unstoppable. They loved your chiseled face, your dark aura and hard eyes. You were handsome, cunning, young-one of the youngest detectives on the force, you fulfilled the legacy of your dead mother and father, killed in a home invasion when you were a child (retconned as such season 2, episode 4, "Anytime, Anyplace," from a house fire mentioned in the pilot). You got what you wanted, you nailed them, every time, you were a step ahead, a bar above. I loved you. For real, man, I loved you. I hate what's become of you, what they say about you, that you're derivative, that you're toxic, because none of it is your fault. Because every day after school I was the kid busting out the tapes and watching the scratchy reruns from the '80s until I was yelled at. I still have all the episodes, digitized and saved on a flash drive that I play on my laptop to fall asleep. My mother never liked the show, saying always it was too violent. She didn't like the guns and didn't understand that was just the way of your world like I did. You want a reason, Thomas Raider, a reason, the reason it all happened, and I'll give it to you. This pisses you off; you want answers now, I'm sure, and to that I'll say this: do yourself a favor, play a little pretend with me. It should be easy for you. You're not even real.
The dumbest part about the way they've been tearing you down lately is that they're all forgetting the fact that Raider defined an entire genre of television. Three years after Hill Street Blues, two after Cagney & Lacey, this was a show that played in the dark. You know why you only did two seasons? Your critics weren't ready for you, they couldn't take the blood and the bodies, too detailed, too ghastly for the 4:3 aspect ratio. Conservative pearl clutchers chided your drinking and sexing, the fact that you never smiled, not once, for forty-six episodes. Middle-aged nerds of today would've gone nuts for you, they would've dressed as you for Comic-Con and defended your abject womanizing to their wives and girlfriends. You dealt a rawness that couldn't be glossed, the hard edges of those alleyways, your filthy clothes, that fucking jacket. You know, I'd kill for that leather jacket. You were a king when you wore it. Don't forget the fact that Raider was one of the only shows putting Asians on TV. By season two you were almost exclusively among us, the shopkeepers and immigrants. We said more than unsubtitled Cantonese, we played more than kung fu masters or dragon assassins. They even gave you a son, that six-year-old street urchin, Moto (season 2, episode 6, "Mercy for the Damned"), who you rescued from a drug ring. I used to think I looked like that little kid. I'd imagine I was him and you were my real father come to take me away. It's my favorite episode. It's the promo they show every time some history special mentions Raider. You, trenchcoated, half shadowed, holding that little Asian boy in your arms, staring into the dark rain falling all around you and straight into my soul.
And still, as it happened, two seasons was plenty enough for Antonin Haubert, the actor who played you. By the end, he had movie offers, endorsement deals. He didn't fight the network when there was cancel talk. He had a face that could play rough like he had on Raider but a mutability underneath that couldn't be taught. He could play the wholesome friend, sadistic politician, principled lord, gay wizard villain. Typecast proof. Antonin Haubert was dark and sexy and on his way to further greatness, and-history will show-the wall of film, television, music, theater, and exemplary ...
The dumbest part about the way they've been tearing you down lately is that they're all forgetting the fact that Raider defined an entire genre of television. Three years after Hill Street Blues, two after Cagney & Lacey, this was a show that played in the dark. You know why you only did two seasons? Your critics weren't ready for you, they couldn't take the blood and the bodies, too detailed, too ghastly for the 4:3 aspect ratio. Conservative pearl clutchers chided your drinking and sexing, the fact that you never smiled, not once, for forty-six episodes. Middle-aged nerds of today would've gone nuts for you, they would've dressed as you for Comic-Con and defended your abject womanizing to their wives and girlfriends. You dealt a rawness that couldn't be glossed, the hard edges of those alleyways, your filthy clothes, that fucking jacket. You know, I'd kill for that leather jacket. You were a king when you wore it. Don't forget the fact that Raider was one of the only shows putting Asians on TV. By season two you were almost exclusively among us, the shopkeepers and immigrants. We said more than unsubtitled Cantonese, we played more than kung fu masters or dragon assassins. They even gave you a son, that six-year-old street urchin, Moto (season 2, episode 6, "Mercy for the Damned"), who you rescued from a drug ring. I used to think I looked like that little kid. I'd imagine I was him and you were my real father come to take me away. It's my favorite episode. It's the promo they show every time some history special mentions Raider. You, trenchcoated, half shadowed, holding that little Asian boy in your arms, staring into the dark rain falling all around you and straight into my soul.
And still, as it happened, two seasons was plenty enough for Antonin Haubert, the actor who played you. By the end, he had movie offers, endorsement deals. He didn't fight the network when there was cancel talk. He had a face that could play rough like he had on Raider but a mutability underneath that couldn't be taught. He could play the wholesome friend, sadistic politician, principled lord, gay wizard villain. Typecast proof. Antonin Haubert was dark and sexy and on his way to further greatness, and-history will show-the wall of film, television, music, theater, and exemplary ...
