I'm Linda Holmes. It's NPR's Book of the Day. Jimin-Haan's novel, The Apology,

centers on a woman with a lot to deal with. She's 105 years old. She's from a family that has

endured secrets and separations. And since the book begins with her death, she spends a lot of it

trying to operate from the afterlife. Han talks

to NPR's Ader Peralta about the pains of separation for Korean families, including her own,

and about the joys of feeling like you might be getting a little bit of help from ghosts.

In the U.S., national security news can feel far away from daily life.

Distant wars, murky conflicts, diplomacy behind closed doors.

On our new show, Sources and Methods.

NPR reporters on the ground bring you stories of real people

helping you understand why distant events matter here at home.

Listen to sources and methods on the NPR app or wherever you get your podcasts.

Fleeing in a panic is not recommended.

When we first meet Jung-A-Cha in the new novel The Apology,

she has fled in a panic after a meeting at her grandson's home in Chicago.

She's running to the degree that a

105-year-old woman can run down the street. To my left, houses and houses and trees,

vicious, large trees, and across the street to my right, more trees. In the very periphery of my

vision, they crowded me,

judged me. What gave them the right? I raised a fist at them and then hurried on to increase

the distance between me and the house I'd left. Increase the distance between me and my family

in that house. Judge me? Yes, they were judging me. That's our next guest,

...