“This looks so wonderful! (In fact, breaking my vow not to sign up for new newsletters for this one!) Everything Emily writes is stellar.” —Abby Seiff

Hi! I’m

Emily Ding

, an independent writer-photographer and editor based in Kuala Lumpur and Berlin.

My stories—on humans & nature, migration & culture, memory politics & the legacies of conflict—have been published in news and literary media.

As a former columnist for Virginia Quarterly Review, I contributed a series of narrative nonfiction as braided Instagram stories. I have also written personal, travel, and critical essays for The Mekong Review.

My news features have been published in places like Al Jazeera, The Washington Post, The Guardian, CNN, Public Radio International, Vice Asia, South China Morning Post, Foreign Policy, Slate, Roads & Kingdoms, Wired UK, New Naratif, Esquire Singapore, Esquire Malaysia, Malaysiakini, and The Malaysian Insider.

Some of this work has been supported by the Pulitzer Center, the National Geographic Society/Out of Eden Walk, and the Fuller Project.

Born in Malaysia, I studied (Law and History) and lived for several years in England, spent a handful of seasons in Latin America, and more recently began an acquaintance with Germany.

I still call Malaysia home but am ever curious about all the places I’ve never been, always looking to tell stories from wherever I go in hopes of better understanding the interconnections of our world.

Why “Movable Worlds”?

I hoped for it to convey the idea of a world in flux and how we meet it with the worlds we carry inside ourselves.

It also alludes to my lifelong love for stories—both the real and fictional worlds they bring to life that illuminate, and sometimes unsettle, our own.

At heart, I am simply curious about all the different worlds that are possible inside this one. As Suzanne Joinson wrote, “Stories of human nature are linked with pathologies of places.”

What will I read here?

We’ll journey together to places in the world, places in the past, places in books, places only in our minds—forever searching for more meaningful ways to live by obsessively documenting and telling stories.

Currently, feeling more and more like it’s now or never, I’m prioritizing my personal projects—writing essays and fiction, hybrid forms. I want to play, surprise myself, sharpen my pen, and I’m reading a lot more to learn from other writers. Upcoming letters may lean more into this, and I’ll share progress reports as long as they allow me to experiment freely in private.

But I’m always thinking about how we engage with place: exploring it, living in it, simply passing through it—and how we shape it and are shaped in return. You’ll find journals and postcards, a mingle of written and visual impressions, from where I live and wherever I travel. Sometimes I’ll explore a place through the lens of a particular story: the Troubles in Belfast, say, or how the Chinese in Kolkata are contending with their dwindling population.

I’m also interested in the emotional terrain of migration: the passions that propel us through the world as we try to find our place in it; how our private lives are impacted by public events, continuously reshaped by memory and imagination. How do we steer our way through the possibilities and fault lines of overlapping citizenships: of our communities, our countries, the world? All without forgetting that some others can only ever long for elsewhere, while others have no choice but to leave, and leave again, in pursuit of an ever-elusive dream of home?

But my interests are varied; sometimes, I’ll just want to share with you something I’ve learned. My hope is that you’ll receive each letter as a mixed parcel of delights—with, as one reader puts it, “literary overtures”—drawing on the delicate interconnectedness of all things, heightening the texture of our ordinary days.

Take this newsletter as a writer’s notebook: a continuous discovery, each letter building on the one before as I piece together my picture of the world. In times of such rapid change, when old certainties are giving way, nothing can be the last word on anything.

So, subscribe?

You can do so for free, and as a free subscriber:

• you’ll be able to read, like, and comment on all public letters,

• but only read previews of paywalled letters.

If you would like, however, you can make a paid subscription. This means:

• you’ll be able to read, like, and comment on public and paywalled letters. Paywalled letters usually include:

  • more personal life updates,

  • additional notes on my published work,

  • exploratory thoughts and works in progress, or

  • curated reading lists for writers, now usually appended as a paywalled section to a mostly free-to-read letter.

• and you’ll be helping me fund occasional guest writers, who are paid USD150 per letter.

Whether you go free or paid, you’ll be supporting my writing and curiosity, sending me a fistbump of encouragement—what with the media meltdown and all the things that demand our attention these days—that you want my work to exist in the world, which is invaluable.

At the same time, I want to note that this newsletter isn’t a full-time endeavor. I try to write at least once or twice a month between other projects. There may be lapses when life or an all-consuming deadline gets in the way, but I’ll make up for it by sending more letters in subsequent months or pausing paid subscriptions/extending them for free.

A note on recurring characters

For years, I mostly traveled on my own. These days, I usually travel with W.C., a freelance concept artist, so he gets an occasional mention. W.C., “Willing Companion”, is a head-nod to Martha Gellhorn’s U.C., “Unwilling Companion” (a.k.a Hemingway), in Travels with Myself and Another 😁

Two dogs sometimes make an appearance, too. Let’s call the little one Miss Marple because she always has her nose to the ground, sniffing; and the big one Ducky, because she had disproportionately large, almost webbed-looking feet, as a puppy. (And yes, it’s ridiculous probably, but I am reluctant to name my dogs publicly, even if it wouldn’t implicate my passwords! 😆)

How else can I show my support?

Follow me on Instagram.

Tell a friend to subscribe to Movable Worlds.

Write a recommendation, which I may share publicly.

Write a guest letter. I pay USD$150.

If you’re a publisher, commission me to write, photograph, or edit.

Some housekeeping notes

You can ignore this if you want to just stick to reading my letters in your inbox. That’s the main thing!

If, however, you’d like to get more use out of Substack, on its website or app, here are some tips:

• You have to be signed into Substack to like or comment on a letter, unless you’re doing it directly from inside your email client.

• If you don’t remember ever signing up properly for a Substack account but have previously subscribed to a Substack newsletter, then you already have an account. On the login page, just enter your email address and a log-in link will be sent to you. If you know your password, click “Sign in with password”.

• You can adjust your profile settings to determine how you receive newsletter notifications for Movable Worlds (and other Substack newsletters you subscribe to)—whether by email only, or also on the Substack app. Since this is a newsletter and I would prefer to meet you directly in your inbox rather than through an app, I would not recommend turning on “smart notifications”. Pick one of the other two options.

• Between letters, I use Substack Chat, a messaging tool where I post more private or casual updates, to connect with readers. Note that it’s only accessible by Movable Worlds subscribers, free or paid.

  

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How this newsletter has evolved

It first began in 2019 as an ad-hoc reporting diary, in which I shared unpublished fragments of human stories I found while on assignment, as well as haphazard lists of reading and culture recommendations. I posted only sporadically, with months-long gaps between letters.

But amid the pandemic, I felt I wanted to be more intentional and expansive with this newsletter. I’ve since refined its mission statement and consolidated the archives, in separate categories, to better reflect the tweak in focus. Since June 2021, I’ve been publishing at least once every month, and hope in time to build something of more consequence.

In November 2021, I changed the overarching name of this newsletter to Movable Worlds, to better encompass everything I might conceivably want to do with it, and gave the name “The Great Affair” over to the guest section.

Thank you for sticking with me!