Editorial assistant Christopher Lyders talks to author Daniel Kuo about his new story, “Empty Spaces,” in the Fall/Winter 2025 issue of Colorado Review.
Daniel Kuo is a fiction writer based in California, where he is completing his MFA at UC Riverside. His work has appeared in Red Rock Review, SmokeLong Quarterly, and Hyphen, and has received support from the San Francisco Writers Grotto and Community of Writers.
Christopher Lyders: Your story “Empty Spaces” is about loss, and yet we never learn the circumstances of the loss. Similarly, we don’t know the narrator’s name, nor that of “you,” and very little about either’s identity. Can you talk about the decision to elide these details?
Daniel Kuo: I think the narrator ends up discovering a little temporary pocket dimension during the story in which reality and all of those details can be escaped. The loss and the pain are still there—no fantasy world in the universe can get rid of that—but exactly what caused it becomes beside the point, and I think that forms the basis of his connection with Hollis, who is essentially a stranger to him. The only real, substantive thing they know about each other is that each of them has also lost someone.
I also think this is one of the cool things you can do more of in short fiction. It’s harder to get away with omitting basic details or backstory in something longer like a novel; I would be too concerned with annoying the reader. But in a short story it’s a given that you can’t include everything anyway, and that limitation can become something to play with.
CL: Something I found really compelling was the way the narrator speaks to the person he has lost throughout the story. Was this always part of the point of view for this piece?
DK: Thank you, and yes: from the very first draft, I imagined the narrator talking to someone else in this intimate, confidential tone. I had a couple readers of an earlier draft that found the voice off-putting, but honestly, I spend a lot of my life talking to myself in the second person like this: “Don’t forget you’re meant to do this. Remember when you talked to that one guy? Ha-ha. That was a funny thing you said.” So to me it feels very natural.
CL: I’m sure writing about such a universal experience required serious reflection and introspection on your part. Did you take anything away from writing this story? Did you arrive at any new insights about grief or loss?
DK: I don’t know, to be honest. Grief seems kind of unsolvable to me. There’s no magic cure or secret solution; you just have to come to terms with it and, hopefully, rely on the kindness and support of others close to you. But I also really like Ocean Vuong’s description of grief as the last and final translation of love.
CL: What really made this story for me was Hollis’s character. I think he adds so much and becomes the embodiment of the title, his home eventually being nothing but “empty spaces” as his possessions are slowly taken away from him. Can you elaborate on the decision to include him? Was he always meant to be a part of the story, or did his character come to you later?
DK: The scene where the narrator sees Hollis’s possessions being loaded into a truck and taken away was the first scene that I wrote. The idea of watching all these pieces and remnants of his life getting carted off was so compelling and sad to me. I think it’s like that moment when you’re in the middle of moving and walk through your now-empty old place to say goodbye.
I also started writing this story during a residency of my own. It was a wonderful experience, but like the narrator, I definitely was not prepared for the solitude. I would be sequestered in my studio all day, trying desperately to focus, and then, of course, I would spot the smallest thing happening outside, and it would become the most momentous event in my head. A random car would pull up and I would be like, “Who is that? I’d better stand here and watch. Maybe it’s someone’s long-lost lover. Maybe it’s the FBI. Maybe someone’s about to steal all our things.”
CL: What are you working on next?
DK: I’ve somehow gotten into a position where I’m writing two different novels at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it isn’t the most efficient way to write, but I’m trying to trust my instincts, ignoring considerations like efficiency and common sense.
CL: What are you reading now? What are you recommending?
DK: I just read Lonesome Dove for the first time and loved it. I will also recommend a short story here called “Long Tom Lookout” by Nicole Cullen, which I read in Best American Short Stories. It’s also a story in which much of “what happened” is skimmed over, and the aftermath is the focus.
Christopher Lyders is currently working towards his MA in literature at Colorado State University, where he serves as an editorial assistant for the Colorado Review. Having left a career in tech, Christopher has chosen a future in books, classrooms, and academia; furthering his studies in Gothic literature within the Romantic and Victorian periods. He dreams of a lifetime of learning, yearns for the Scottish countryside, and lives within the macabre settings of his studies.