Jennifer Fergesen: Writer and Editor

I'm James Beard-nominated writer and editor with a focus on food and the stories behind it. I've contributed to publications around the world, from Iceland to the Philippines, HK to the UK, and am the senior editor of Comstock's magazine, copyeditor of Roots & Wings magazine and founding editor of Polarlit. Wherever you are, don't hesitate to reach out and collaborate. I'll make it to your neighborhood sooner or later.

To learn more about my project to explore the Filipino diaspora through its restaurants, please visit globalcarinderia.com.

Pink Monkey Magazine • 16th January 2020

Pecking Order

(2019 Gilbert Prize for Fiction winner) Alouette’s own eyes were not the dull brown of her sisters’; they were gold like her feathers, and stared out of the sides of her head with such a suspicious intelligence Lisa had to look away.

The Margins: Asian American Writers' Workshop • 27th August 2021

John Dô (Flash Version)

When she opened her door the lived-in smell burst out like gases from a can: fish sauce and charred meat, mildew and a stronger concentration of the musk he had noticed when he got close enough to her body.

Thin Air Magazine • 15th June 2021

John Dô

(Thin Air Magazine Editor's Choice Honorarium) John Dô comes of age on Carson Beach in Boston.

Vamp Cat Magazine • 10th July 2019

Victor in Pattaya

Night clamps down on Pattaya like a vice — sky so black you forget it was ever blue. The only light is neon, glowing twisted tubes in red and pink and purple like every shade of organ meat. The tubes twist into "girls," "gogo," "massage," words repeated so many times you forget their meaning. Then, "coffee." Victor goes inside.

Tilde Literary Journal • 15th November 2019

Pat and the Porphyroblasts

(Pushcart Prize nominee) She was used to the pace of the earth, even the breakneck pace on Iceland, the rocky afterbirth of the earth’s womb. Here above the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, where the ground splits to bleed new molten crust, geologic time moves on a relatively human scale: Pat had seen volcanoes that erupted as cyclically as she bled, an entire offshore island younger than her father.

Rabid Oak • 29th August 2019

The Lighter

(Sonder Press Best Small Fictions 2020 and Best of the Net 2020 nominee) "Wanna see something crazy?" Taking silence for consent, Andrew took the object from his pocket. Eric thought at first that it was an animal, already dead and boyishly mutilated. When he looked closer he noticed the glint of sun on its metal surface: the torso of a woman cast in aluminum.

Circus • 10th April 2017

Jan Dreams of Feet

(2016 Sydney Robertson McLean Short Story Prize winner) The feet were in her bed again. One stuck out the bottom edge of the blanket and stood silhouette, long and bony, against the stripes of light between the blinds. She tore back the covers and flipped on the switch so forcefully her hand smarted; a black bruise would spread by morning. The feet remained for half a blink and then she was alone.

Atlas and Alice • 28th May 2019

The Lipomatous Lover

The second time Pat stripped Jack she did not shut her eyes against the lumps that clustered on his body like the eggs of a large, fecund amphibian. There were dozens of them, blurring the edges of his silhouette everywhere but hands and face. She touched them tentatively: they were softer than they looked, and more mobile. She could push them half a centimeter from their hidden tethers under his skin.

DREAMS: AASIA Journal • 10th November 2016

Why I Dream of Trees

When I first saw Capiz, the scenery was at once wholly alien and familiar, like the half-remembered backdrop of a thousand childhood dreams.

DeadEyes Literary Magazine • 16th January 2020

The Capizeno Cookbook

The first bite — spicy and sweet — was like the kind of first kiss that will lead to more. I wouldn’t shut up about how much I liked ensaladang ampalaya and so it appeared on the table again and again.