Musings

I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. As a senior in high school already accepted into a local university, I was an undeclared major. My interests in school were limited. I had few friends and spent most of my free time doing homework and sitting on my ass watching movies. Occasionally, I wrote. That didn't seem like an option for a career at the time. I didn't realize until closer to graduation that I could major in creative writing and develop my craft as an aspiring fiction writer. Mom and dad expressed some concern. I just couldn't justify going to school to become a doctor, lawyer, engineer, or businessman. I remember when I was very young how dad told me that I could do whatever I wanted when I grew up, even a truck driver or something, and he would never think less of me as long as I did my best at it. Of course, nobody exactly dreams of becoming a truck driver, but it's better than being a panhandler on the street. I remember things like this and take them into context. It's great to have a secure job that pays a high wage, but that can't be all there is to living and breathing. I had my hesitations, but always came back to the position of wanting to be a writer. The more I worked at it, the more convinced I was that I had found something I could actually be skilled at instead of average or less.
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When writing new material, I've frequently found it disconcerting when I get the feeling that I'm repeating what I've already written--similar themes, sensibilities, and sometimes passages that seem verbatim, but only suspected from my limited memory. After all, that's what the writing is for and I would've forgotten way more without it. Soon enough, I'm reassured that a writer's work will gradually evolve through time, but he usually repeats aspects of his previous work because it's what he knows and he likes it. I do believe that there are a finite number of stories, but they can be told in many different ways. Some are seemingly more original than others.
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One day, I woke up and I was 30. I didn't know how to feel. Even at 40, 50, 60, or further beyond as a centennial, human life was never long enough. We all breathed on lease.

2016: The Year of Playing Catch-Up

The year 2016 has been unpredictable with a great many happenings in my life. While the world as a whole had a questionable year that revealed further instances of hate, intolerance, and ignorance, my year has been positive.

I lived in three different places this year. There was an apartment, a rented house, and now a house I can call my own. I proposed to my girlfriend. We set a date. I started a new job back in August. I remind myself that I was a late bloomer in terms of life progressions. 2016 has been my year of playing catch-up.

In spite of the usual bullshit going on in the world, I'm happy about my own life. I don't know what 2017 will hold for me. All I know for certain is the wedding in October. Otherwise, I'm sort of in the dark. I don't mind because I'm with my wife-to-be, we're building a life together, and my career is reaching new heights.

I've started working on the next novel. As mentioned before, it will center on my literary alter ego, Kai. The novel will reflect my current state of mind and position in life. Although the writing doesn't completely mirror my own life, both share plenty of commonalities.

To put it simply, life is good. I'm staying positive. There are enough rights in the world that make up for the wrongs. I live by a simply rule: just be nice to people. Don't let personal differences cause contention. We're all human. We bleed, we sweat, we cry, and we die.

Until next time, walk on.

The Glory Days and the Promises of Tomorrow

In preparation for my next novel, I looked back on my experiences as a younger man. Many of these instances have been recorded previously. Fortunately, there's still plenty left to explore in future work. I remember my glory days, not so much as periods of enjoyment, but life lessons full of struggle and the feeling of helplessness. I was challenged daily. I was full of piss and vinegar. I wanted more and felt like it would take forever to reach peaks. Indeed, it took years.  The writing, my career, and my progressions in life still make me feel like I was a late bloomer.

Almost nothing has ever come easy to me. I've had to work and be patient. It's only within the past couple of years that I feel I have a greater sense of control. Even when things don't work out exactly as I want them to, they have the tendency to fall into place one way or another. Maybe it's luck. More than likely, it's because I'm seasoned and have a better grasp on how to accomplish my personal and professional goals.

Much has happened for me in 2016. I proposed to my girlfriend, we're getting married next year, I started a new job months ago, and we're going through the process of closing on a house. Marriage, a career change, and first time home ownership: that's something.

In the midst of all of these major life progressions, I'm compelled to write another novel now more than ever. It will reflect these ideas of changing: of settling down into a new stage in life. As I've mentioned in previous posts, my literary alter ego grows as I do.

While I don't face as many personal struggles as I used to, I still have long term challenges that involve heading towards unfamiliar territory. Soon enough, my future wife and I will start a family. Every stage in life provides us with unique experiences. We take what we have learned and build upon it to be the best we can humanly be. Amazingly, there's still so much for me to do.

Short Stories and Novels

In the world of fiction, short stories are knights and novels are kings. They both bring something important to the table. While novelettes and novellas might be seen as inferior, they have their own places too. I've enjoyed working on all of these forms because their degrees of length and scope allow for a variety of possibilities.

The novel, whether its simply a novel or the Great American Novel, continues to serve as a measurement for excellence. When I was starting out, I knew that I wanted to write a novel. The only things holding me back were my lack of experience in developing the craft and inspiration.

It was after college that I wrote a short story. It was a reflection of my state of mind as a post-grad with bleak prospects for the future. I put out my thoughts, my frustrations, and my hopes in that short story. I gave it some time to settle and when I went back to it, I saw that there was something. That something is what helped me use the short story as the basis for my first novel, "The Other Side of Grand."

From there, a literary universe was created and expanded. More often than not, my short stories were originally ideas for novels. As with many ideas, they aren't always fully realized because the creator simply doesn't feel them or attentions drift to other potential projects. This happens to me constantly. It used to bother me because I felt like I couldn't be committed to all of my ideas. The simple truth is that a writer has to decided what he wants to pursue and determine which ones are simply interesting ideas. After all, we don't have all of the time in the world and it takes effort to write decently. If you don't believe in a story, you shouldn't continue writing it.

This is what I've kept in mind when coming up with stories ideas. I've recently thought of a few short stories to create, but I don't feel all that motivated to write them. What I do want to write is another novel. This one is going to be another novel centered on my literary alter ego, Kai Furuya. As I'm going through major life points at the moment, it feels appropriate for me to continue Kai's story. When I grow, so does he.

What If?

Occasionally, I wonder: what if I had never pursued writing? Worse, what if I got into writing only to give it up because I felt it was too difficult or that it was taking me nowhere? What if I hadn't fantasized constantly as a boy? What if I had been more outgoing instead of keeping so much inside my mind? What if I had a completely different job, was in love with somebody else, and lived someplace different all because I didn't get into writing? There are so many what-ifs. I don't have concrete answers to them--only speculations.

I am who I am today because of writing. While I have gotten better at expressing myself verbally through the years, writing has always been my fallback mode of communication. I can organize my thoughts and polish them exactly to my liking. The way of writing has saved me and continues to do so. It's gotten me though moments of depression and helplessness. It's allowed me to connect with more people. It's strengthened my ability to love. As I learn and evolve, so does the writing.

I would be somebody different without writing. There were plenty of times when I struggled with it and felt like I didn't have the right to call myself a writer. Now I feel that it's imprinted in me like a strand of DNA. With equal measures of success and failure, I go on living through my identity as a writer. Now, I can't imagine ever giving it up forever.

Firm Roots

A number of my past fiction projects were attempts to branch out and create stories that were different from the bulk of my work. Some I found to be successful and some ended up being fun experiments that didn't quite turn out the way I wanted.

I've found this to be the case with my latest piece of work. My original idea was to write a full novel that did not feature my long-time protagonist, Kai. As I've gradually worked on this project, I felt less and less invested. The idea itself is still compelling to me in its own way, which is why I've decided to condense it into a short story. I just don't feel like it can be built up as a full novel.

I've done this plenty of times. In fact, several of my short stories were originally ideas for novels. In the case of my debut novel "The Other Side of Grand," it was the opposite. I wrote a short story about the character who would evolve into Kai and later decided to create a novel out of it.

My work has always been firmly rooted in the life of Kai. At this point in my life, I don't know if I'll ever write longer pieces of work without Kai as a central character. Writing in general is not easy. I often struggle to write a few pages at a time. With Kai, it's different. He's a character I can relate to and he compels me to write more about him.

For now, my plan is to write enough short stories to fill another collection and work on another novel once I want to depict another period of Kai's life. Short stories offer a great deal of freedom to explore plots and themes that are different from my more standard work. I still find myself diving into the absurd and questioning the line between reality and fantasy. As a result, I continue to love the short story format.

The Characters We Love

*SPOILERS AHEAD FOR SEASON 7 OF THE WALKING DEAD*

For those of you who may or may not know, last night's season premiere of The Walking Dead was a shocker to say the least. Followers of the show knew that a character was going to die, but the reveal of who delivered a shock that has still left me with a feeling of numbness. I'm tempted to watch the episode a second time just to take in everything again from a new perspective.

While I had a strong feeling that Abraham was going to get the business end of Lucille and that Negan would kill more than one person, actually seeing it play out on screen was uncomfortable.  I'm usually able to keep a certain level of emotional investment in the shows I watch without getting too bothered when characters suffer. This was different.

Glenn was one of the most remarkable characters on the show. Since season 1, we have seen him evolve from the awkward but capable survivor to the badass who was still able to maintain the best parts of his humanity despite the many hardships he faced. He was a husband and father-to-be. This is no longer the case.

Despite knowing that Glenn was killed by Negan in the graphic novel, the initial twist in the episode made us think that Glenn was safe. Instead, Negan literally crushes this important character--and us on an emotional level. After all of the close calls that Glenn had on the show, he ultimately goes down in the same fashion as the graphic novel. I'm sure the ending result has left many divided.

One of the most important Asian American characters on TV has been killed off. The character himself leaves behind a wife and unborn child. This will surely have repercussions throughout the season and even the rest of the show.

The morning after watching the episode, Glenn's death by baseball bat brought up another thought. There is in fact a real life example of an Asian American man getting beaten to death with a baseball bat. His name was Vincent Chin.  Like Glenn, Vincent was a young man with his whole life still ahead of him. Instead, he was killed through an evil and senseless act.

Perhaps I'm looking too deeply into this, but the image of an Asian American man being beaten to death hurts me on a deeper level. Sure, Glenn was a fictional character, but he was a great character. He was a role model not only for Asian Americans, but all people. He will be missed.

At the same time, I really hope that this will allow actor Steven Yeun to really branch out and have a successful acting career outside of The Walking Dead. It seems like most actors who were killed off on the show have faded into obscurity. I don't think this will be the case for Mr. Yeun. He was one of the most beloved characters on the show and the actor was really able to shine all of these years. I can imagine him taking on important roles that will continue to develop Asian American characters in the mainstream. At the same time, Mr. Yeun can certainly take on roles that do not specifically require a person of Asian descent.

I normally don't discuss pop culture extensively in regards to my writing. However, this was different. I'm still processing my thoughts and reactions regarding the death of this character. It goes to show us that even a make-believe person can be kept close in our hearts. A character like Glenn encourages us to be better people despite the shit around us that seems impossible to control.