B.C.-based writer and editor Shashi Bhat's latest project is a short story collection called Death By A Thousand Cuts. At once honest and witty, it explores the impossible expectations that come with being a woman through a contemporary lens.

The stories follow a wide range of characters to interrogate relationships with the self and others, from a writer whose ex publishes a novel about their breakup to a college student who discovers an experimental procedure to turn her eyes blue.

"I tend to write about the things I'm preoccupied with, and because I drafted these stories between 2007 and 2022, it's a kind-of showcase of my obsessions during that time: a dawning awareness of the realities of being a woman and facing male entitlement; how little control we have over our bodies; how we might suppress our best instincts; and the gap between how a person presents themselves and who they actually are," Bhat told CBC Books in an email.

"But I also wrote this book because I love the short story form — its shape; its opportunities for experimentation with structure and style and voice and humour; its potential for a gut-punch or lump-in-the-throat ending," said Bhat.

"I think the short story is the perfect vehicle for emotion. There's no other art form that can destroy me the way a short story can."

Bhat is known for her novel, The Most Precious Substance on Earth, which was a finalist for the 2022 Governor General's Literary Award for fiction. Her short story Mute won the 2018 Writers' Trust McClelland & Stewart Journey Prize. She has been shortlisted for a National Magazine Award and the RBC Bronwen Wallace Award.

She is also the author of the novel The Family Took Shape, the editor-in-chief of EVENT magazine and teaches creative writing at Douglas College.

Death By A Thousand Cuts will be released on April 30. You can read an excerpt below.

Asha swipes right on a profile and a yellow screen pops up — BOOM! it says in white sans serif. It's a match! She sends a screenshot of the guy's profile to her WhatsApp group chat.

This fellow seems promising, she types.

Nice, replies Mona. What does he do?

Asha is a thirty-seven-year-old woman who does not want kids, but she does want a serious relationship, which limits the dating pool. Nearly everyone left within her search filters is a man in his late forties who says he wants kids but under Looking For has checked off Something Casual. Sometimes she misreads the words as Something Causal, and she thinks, Yes, yes. Me too.

Not necessarily, messages Mona. Maybe he's sick of kids from spending all day with them. No harm in setting up a date.

Yeah, go get your man! adds Elaine.

The profile shows a man likely of South Asian origin, with a goofy, open-mouthed smile. He has included five photos of himself: 1) in a tropical setting, wearing sunglasses and cradling a giant lizard; 2) in a harness, rock climbing; 3) holding a beer among a diverse group of men who are also holding beers; 4) ruffling the ears of a perturbed dachshund; 5) wearing a kurta while standing next to an aunty type. The photos say, "I love the outdoors! I love to travel and have new experiences! I have friends! I love dogs, but don't we all! I'm Indian but not so Indian that you can't relate to me!"

These qualities are acceptable to Asha, though she prefers wine to beer and rabbits to dogs and would describe herself as more indoorsy than outdoorsy. She has three photos on her profile: 1) hamming it up with Elaine in a thrift store while Elaine tries on a unicorn mask; 2) holding a wine glass, mid-cheers, at a Niagara Falls winery with her mother; 3) in a gallery (at Mona's first exhibit), wearing a floral minidress and looking thoughtfully at art. Her photos declare, "I have friends and interests! I partake in cultural experiences! I enjoy alcohol in moderation! I can dress up or down! Though my profile says I don't want children, I have a great relationship with my mother!"

***

After three days of unremarkable messaging, they meet at the river market. This is Asha's go-to first-date suggestion, because it allows her full control. It's walking distance from her place. And there's a mid-century furniture and decor store where she can scout out deals before the date—she always arrives early to get her bearings, to acclimate to temperature and noise level, and to use the washroom and check her hair, if necessary.

When her date shows up, she's studying a pair of green ceramic lamps.

"Heyyy," he says. "Those are cool lamps!"

He has charmed her by having good taste in lamps. When he reaches out to hug her, she obliges, though she doesn't really like hugging people she has just met. The hug makes obvious how muscular he is, more so than she expected. He reminds her of the actor who plays Bhima in Mahabharat, the TV version of the Sanskrit epic that her mother is always watching when she phones home. Asha could not summarize the plot of the epic, but she knows that Bhima is one of five brothers and has the strength of 10,000 elephants. Her date, like the actor, has a thick neck and a clean-shaven jaw — in Indian dramas from the '80s, the good guys never have facial hair.

Asha likes that the river market has several portable food and drink options that cost less than five dollars (tea, coffee, gelato, hand-sized cookies, slices of quiche); she always selects from these to avoid feeling indebted if her date pays. She orders a jasmine tea that he doesn't let her pay for — "Relax, it's four dollars!" he says, waving away her wallet. He whistles to himself as he adds three sugars to his coffee but no dairy. Asha finds this choice disgusting, but it's not like she has to drink it.

Another reason she chose this location is that, if it rains, they can sit at the tables inside, and if not, they can wander down the waterfront boardwalk. The latter is her preference because it creates a definite end point for the date. The experience will last one to two hours, enough time to decide whether it's safe and worth her time to go on a second date. For Asha, a date is like a video game, or at least like the uncomplicated ones she played twenty-five years ago; she just wants to finish this level and make it to the next.

Excerpted from Death by a Thousand Cuts by Shashi Bhat. Copyright © 2024 Shashi Bhat. Published by McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited. Reproduced by arrangement with the Publisher. All rights reserved.