A naturalist of beings real and fictional
Laura Rikono
Laura Rikono lives in Malaysian North Borneo. Once a marine scientist, she met a tribesman who wooed her with wild fishing trips in the shadow of a lilac mountain. They settled down and had children, who were far more interesting than fish. Her stories are sci fi and fantasy grounded in the natural sciences.
Laura Rikono is known inside the Colony as Aethalope
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If Plot Were an Artisan
A vast and echoey chamber crisscrossed by delicate strands. PLOT hangs suspended from the high ceiling, quietly murmuring to themselves. The DIRECTOR stands in the...
Eyes Closed
Blood on the Clocktower. No, not a cozy mystery but the opening event for a recent boardgame meet I attended. A sprawling social deduction game,...
Christmas on the Equator
I’m often asked, “Do you celebrate Christmas over there in Borneo?” The official answer is “Yes, we do.” Muslim-majority Malaysia has a substantial Christian population,...
Not an Ode to Howl
I am privileged to belong to the Thursday Ladies of Letters, a writers' group in Kota Kinabalu. It's always a fun romp with prompts, laughter,...
If Genres Were Dating
Sci-fi's office, its walls lined with the concept art of unbuilt cities. The Director watches Sci-fi brandish spreadsheets. Sci-fi, we need to talk. Yes,...
The Stillness of a Spellbound Audience
I like collecting. Mostly things like pens, books, spices and tropical fevers, but lately also “lean-in” moments. These happen when I’m reading out loud to...
The Terrifying Tarap
Tropical fruits are a diverse bunch. On the one hand, we've got pineapples and passionfruit, mangos and mangosteen, all those lovely, sweet and sour flavours...
If the Protagonist Had Slept in
The PROTAGONIST’S room. Chapter One’s bloodstained clothes still cover the floor. The DIRECTOR stands in the doorway, exasperated. —— Look at the state of you....
The Book They Actually Wanted
Writers need feedback, and I have found the perfect focus group*. It offers raw, physical reactions, delivered with zero concern for the writer’s feelings. These...
If Genre Were A Custody Battle
A conference room. Two GENRES sit fuming on opposite sides of a table. The DIRECTOR sits at the head, looking tired. Okay, you...
If the First Draft Were a Rehearsal
A chaotic rehearsal space. Various STORY ELEMENTS mill about nervously. The DIRECTOR stands centre, clipboard in hand. Right! What have we got today? And...
Golden Hour, Interrupted
My son and I are taking part in a music-dance-storytelling performance of Carnival of the Animals, and the drive home after Sunday rehearsals has been...
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