In this one, I talk to author and multi-disciplinary artist Tessa Hulls. She recently won the Pulitzer Prize for her graphic memoir, “Feeding Ghosts.” It’s about three generations of women in her family — her grandma, her mom, and herself — and the ways their lives were shaped by political violence, migration, silence and survival. The book moves across continents and decades, weaving together personal history and national trauma. It examines what it means to be stuck in time, and carrying the reverberations of inherited trauma. It also confronts the fallibility of memory — what we remember versus what actually happened — and the tension between being Chinese and being American. Tessa’s grandma would have been the keeper of the family’s history, but she was a locked box — often medicated and unable to speak much English. So, at 30, after spending most of her life running from the weight of her family’s story, Tessa realized that if she didn’t confront it, she risked becoming the next generation of collateral damage. Tessa’s been coming to Alaska for the past 14 years, and says that there’s nothing that makes her feel more at home than being alone in the backcountry. Drawn by the scale of Alaska’s wild places and the way they offer a kind of perspective she hasn’t found anywhere else. It provides her with moments that dissolve ego — when the vastness of the landscape reminds her of how small she is. The people are in tune with change, and the shifting seasons shape daily life and identity. It’s freeing and grounding at the same time.  The outdoors has shaped nearly every part of Tessa’s creative life, and it played a major role in the writing of “Feeding Ghosts.” It offered her the solitude and clarity she needed to confront her family’s story, and it was during a stint working as a chef in Antarctica that she first began teaching herself to draw comics. She says she didn’t have a choice when it came to writing it — it wasn’t a passion project, but a responsibility. She felt summoned by her family’s ghost to break the silence and carry their story forward. And while she has no plans to write another book, she’s now thinking about how to use the attention the memoir has brought her to uplift other artists in Alaska. Photo courtesy of Gavin Doremus