A Simple Story

It seems that a simple story suits a short story because a short story is short. Not so. We can find a simple story in a novel and a movie as well. In truth, a simple story can be not only interesting, but gripping, and powerful. And it is usually quiet. Being quiet doesn't mean it has no power; on the contrary, it has its own unique quiet power. What I mean is that a simple story draws the attention of the reader/audience from beginning to end without relying on those sensational thrills, which, I believe, you know what I'm talking about. And surprisingly it works equally well in a movie.

Off the top of my head, the movie with a simple story I can think of is a Chinese movie The King of Masks. Even Wes enjoyed it, and we watched it twice. Months apart. The second time I watched it, I was drawn to it, just like the first time. A simple story that is not simple. Here lies the paradox. Anyway, we don't have to resort to all the sensational thrills to thrill the reader/ audience but write a simple story that illustrates a human truth; its quiet power would move the reader/audience much more profoundly than those "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

Success

Success is desired by everyone with a dream in every field. Success is perceived differently by each individual. I like what John Wooden said about success. He told his basketball players, "Success is to be the best you can be." To be the best we can be is not an easy thing to do because it means we need to maximize our potentials. I believe I'm doing just that. I've been honing the writer's craft, writing every day, and reading like a writer. Yes, there's a big difference between reading as a reader and reading as a writer. The former is mainly for enjoyment; the latter for a writer's craft.

You might argue: We need to dream big. Who doesn't? But, how many writers make it as big as Dan Brown? As Steven King? I'd like to sidetrack a little bit. The famous Chinese-American woman figure skater Michelle Kwan, who had won eight World Championships; however, her dream of winning the Olympic gold was never fulfilled. Could we say she wasn't successful? I'm sure she did her best in her every performance. So, to be happy but without losing sight of my dream, I like John Wooden's words: "Success is to be the best you can be."

Rejection

Since I graduated with an MFA, I've been writing and have "trained" myself how to greet, how to receive, how to deal with rejection. Over the years, I've grown not only as a writer who writes but also as a writer who knows how to greet, how to receive, how to deal with rejection. Having thick skin is one thing; knowing how to receive it in a constructive way is another. Take the sentence in the form letter "This doesn't reflect you as a writer" or "This doesn't reflect your writing ability" as truth. This is what I mean to take it constructively. And I treat the rejection in two different ways: When I receive a form letter, I treat it as an acquaintance and tell myself, "Such is competition. You can't win all the time." Besides, I like the saying, "You win some, you lose some." When I receive a letter with the editor's handwritten comments, I treat it as a friend. If an editor takes his/her time to handwrite you something, what does he/she want to tell you? Unfortunately, such rejection letters don't come by often. Because they seldom come, welcome them, embrace them, treat them like good old friends who take the trouble, despite their hectic schedule, to pay you a visit.

The Myth of Sisyphus

From the Myth of Sisyphus Albert Camus derived his philosophy of the absurd. When I first heard of it in college, I understood his interpretation of the myth. Like any other myths, Chinese myths included, can be interpreted in various ways. Such is the strength and depth and the richness of a myth. The way I interpret the Myth of Sisyphus is not futility and absurdity as Albert Camus saw it. I see something totally different from his interpretation; I see three Ps: perseverance, persistence, patience. The three qualities a writer must have.

In his essay, Albert Camus concluded, " . . . . One must imagine Sisyphus happy." As a writer, I am happy because I have what it takes to be a writer: perseverance, persistence, patience. Since I started writing plays at graduate school, my patience has been tested and is still being tested. And, over the years, I've persevered and persisted. With so many odds against me--being a non-native English speaker, who didn't start writing until at the age of forty-one, and writing in the third language, and not many theatres across America having Asian actors--I continue to write for American theatre up to today. Rejection has frustrated me but has never intimidated me. I keep writing and keep sending my work out into the world.

If, according to Albert Camus, Sisyphus is happy, forever pushing the boulder up a mountain but the rock keeps rolling back down, I am happy doing what I've been doing since 1992 to be a playwright/writer.

Thirty-five Years Later

Three more days, it'll mark the 35th anniversary of the fall of Saigon. Thirty-five years ago, I tried to escape with the frantically departing Americans but failed. Thirty-five years later, I'm striving to make a name for myself as a well-established writer in America.

Looking back, my ten-year living under Communist rule has left a painful mark on me that still gives me flashbacks but at the same time has enriched my life because now I know first-hand what it was like living in a dictatorship, a dictatorship in general, a Communist dictatorship in particular. A political system that had affected people in half of the globe. And Vietnam shut its door for ten years. During those ten years, the government oppressed and persecuted us--people of the South. When most of us--the unwanted--left the country, it opened its door. Now the Communists welcome us back. I do want to return to see how much remnants of their former brutality could still be traced. Probably none. Shrewd and sophisticated, they know how to whitewash every bloodstain.

I do want to go back for another reason: to touch my mother's urn that my sister has put in a temple. My mother, the most important person in my life, died the second year I resettled in America. Without her, my life would have been a totally different story.

Twenty-fifth Anniversary

Yesterday marked the 25th anniversary of rebuilding my life in America. It's been one quarter of a century since I lived in the U.S. coming as a refugee. Looking back, I was amazed at what I had done. Thanks to my mother who sent me to an English language school in Vietnam during the 60s, though I didn't graduate, I had a foundation to build on in order to pursue my writer's dream in my adopted country whereas such dream of mine would never be fulfilled in my homeland. Coming alone as an older adult in my thirties and without a high school diploma and having lived in a cultural desert--Communist Vietnam before opening its door in the late 80s--for ten years, I was enrolled in Kishwaukee Junior College three months after my arrival in DeKalb, IL, and at the same time working on my GED. In seven years, I earned my MFA in English and playwriting.

So far I'm most proud of myself for having transformed myself from a high-school dropout to an MFA holder. And I did it in my third language.

Fresh Eyes

I like to talk about eyes a lot, don't I? In my previous entries, I wrote about a writer's eyes, objective eyes, and so on. Now I'm writing about fresh eyes. For a writer, she can get fresh eyes from two sources: 1) a writer friend, a free-lance editor included, 2) herself. I'd like to talk about my own fresh eyes. How can I look at my work with fresh eyes? This is what I'd do--putting the "finished" writing away for a while and then revise it. For my novel, I didn't work on it for six month. Yes, six months. From July 2009 to Dec. Last January, I took it out and looked at it and saw problems I hadn't seen before. That's what I mean: my own fresh eyes. Quite reliable. For some writers, six months would be too long. For me, it's worth the "delay" because I want my first novel to be the best I can write. Also, my past writing experience has taught me a good lesson--I was too eager to get my work out into the world and only to receive rejection after rejection. It turned out to be a waste of my time, my money, and my energy.

After revising my novel for three months, once again I let it cool down, for a month only. I believe when I rework on it in May, I'll see it with fresh eyes.