Chapter 27: Author’s Note – Summary & Analysis

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

In her Author's Note, Kylie Lee Baker begins by explaining that the most frightening part of the book is not the supernatural horror but the opening chapter's display of ignorance—Cora and Delilah have no idea what is about to happen. Baker recalls her own experience in March 2020 working as a dental receptionist when the state ordered shutdowns. She made phone calls to clear two weeks of appointments, reflecting on how optimistic that timeline now seems.

Writing characters who believed the pandemic would "blow over" was haunting because both author and readers know that hope will be extinguished. Baker notes that four years later, she still wears a mask on the train, underscoring the pandemic's lasting presence.

Baker asserts that no fictional ghost compares to the real-world devastation of COVID-19: the sacrifice of elderly and disabled people for economic reasons, the collapse of trust in government and the CDC, and the resurgence of racial scapegoating. She connects this to her own family history, as her Japanese side was interned during World War II, remarking that her great-grandparents would be dismayed at how little has changed.

The dedication of the book—"to everyone we lost in the pandemic"—is expanded to include the intangible losses: hope, trust in others and leaders, and dreams. Baker acknowledges that every reader in the debut year has lived through 2020 and will compare their experiences to the characters'.

Despite the pain, Baker reminds herself that the future also holds wonders. She quotes John Green from The Anthropocene Reviewed about unpredictable moments of "light-soaked joy." She looks back on her own 2020 and sees not only unexpected pain but also achievements: publishing four books, earning a master's degree, making new friends, and feeling proud of who she has become.

Finally, Baker clarifies that the novel focuses specifically on Chinese American discrimination because that is her personal experience. However, she stresses that the Stop Asian Hate movement builds on the Civil Rights Movement and the struggles of Black, Latine, and Indigenous communities. She warns against pitying Cora Zeng while condemning Trayvon Martin, urging readers not to let empathy be confined to one's own community. There is no justice for Asian Americans without justice for all BIPOC.

Key Events

Baker identifies the first chapter's portrayal of pre-pandemic ignorance as the scariest part.
She recounts her role as a dental receptionist in March 2020, making shutdown calls.
She contrasts the characters' early hope with the reality of a prolonged pandemic.
Baker names the real-world harms of COVID-19: sacrifice of vulnerable groups, eroded trust, and anti-Asian racism.
She links the pandemic scapegoating to her family's experience of Japanese American internment.
She expands the book's dedication to include lost hope, trust, and dreams.
She affirms that joy and achievement also followed 2020, citing her own career and personal growth.
She stresses that the novel's focus on anti-Asian hate is one part of a larger system of white supremacy.
She calls for solidarity across all BIPOC communities.

Character Development

The Author's Note does not advance the fictional characters of the novel. However, it deepens the reader's understanding of Cora Zeng by revealing the real-world anxieties and systemic pressures that shape her world. Cora's constant fear of racist violence, her traumatic memories of the pandemic's early days, and her strained relationships can be seen as reflections of the societal fractures Baker describes. The note also humanizes the author herself, showing her as someone who has struggled and grown through the same historical moment as her protagonist.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

The COVID-19 pandemic as a modern horror: Baker argues that the pandemic's real horrors—lost lives, broken trust, racist backlash—exceed any ghost story. It serves as the essential context for the novel's events.
Scapegoating and intergenerational trauma: The author draws a direct line from the Japanese American internment during WWII to the anti-Asian violence during COVID-19, showing how racism repeats cycles of blame.
Loss of hope vs. enduring hope: Baker mourns the optimism that died in 2020 but also insists that joy and accomplishment are still possible. The motif of "light-soaked joy" counters the prevailing darkness.
White supremacy as the root problem: The book's focus on anti-Asian hate is framed as one symptom of a deeper societal illness. Solidarity among all BIPOC communities is presented as the necessary response.

Why This Chapter Matters

This Author's Note grounds the supernatural horror of Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng in undeniable historical and contemporary reality. It forces readers to confront that Cora's trauma is not fantasy but a lived experience for many Asian Americans. By sharing her own story and that of her family, Baker transforms the novel into a testament to resilience and a call to action. The note also provides a careful ethical framework: the book intentionally centers one specific community's pain without erasing other struggles. It reminds readers that empathy must be inclusive and that fighting anti-Asian hate is inseparable from fighting all forms of racism.

Study Questions and Answers

Why does Baker consider the first chapter of the novel the scariest?
Baker explains that the scariest part is not the decapitation but the characters' complete lack of awareness of what is coming—the pandemic. Their naive hope that things will return to normal contrasts sharply with the devastating reality that both the author and readers know awaits them.
How does Baker connect the COVID-19 pandemic to historical racism in the United States?
She points to the resurgence of scapegoating Asian Americans during the pandemic and links it to her own family's experience of Japanese American internment during World War II. She notes that her great-grandparents would be dismayed at how little has changed, emphasizing that racism repeats when fear takes hold.
What does Baker mean when she dedicates the book to "everyone we lost in the pandemic" and then expands that to "everything"?
Initially, "everyone" refers to the people who died from COVID-19. By adding "everything," Baker includes the intangible losses: the pieces of ourselves that died in 2020—the hope we had in others, the trust in our leaders, and the dreams we once believed in. This acknowledges that grief extends beyond physical deaths to the destruction of collective optimism and social cohesion.