#asianwriter

[travelwithmestranger]

Everyone's invited. Even One Voice can change the course. That Voice Is Yours 💜 #womensmarch #womenartists #womensright #womensday #womensday2023 #8thmarch #womansday #girlpoet #celebratingher #topliketags #march4women #tlter #ladywriter #ladypoet #womanright #artprompts #womanwriter #femalepoets #asianwriters #womanauthor #mombloggers #momblogger #femaleartist #blackwomen #respectwomen #promptlist #writingchallenge #she #herpoetry #herwordisgold (at For Her) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpbb6NaP3ig/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[eggwhiteswithspinach]

I think about all the time I spent on Youtube as a teen learning how to apply makeup. It seems like a normal teen girl hobby, until you realize how much of that time I spent specifically to "enhance" my eyes. The most insidious technique focussed on applying glue, tape or string to my eyes to give the false pretense of double-eyelids. That was the step before watching 18237192387 videos of double-eyelid plastic surgeries and recovery vlogs.

#AsianWriters

[outragedtortilla]

In English, the stories and beliefs from North American TV shows came most quickly, without translation. If I had to communicate something in Cantonese, lessons and characters in Hong Kong dramas (and Korean dramas, dubbed in Cantonese) came most quickly to me.

#AsianWriters

[ramyeongif]

It is the only time in my life that I’ve seen someone on TV with eyes like mine be complimented for her eyes.

#AsianWriters

[grouchydairy]

I thought I had all the representation I needed, when in reality, my identity was being split into two. These sources of stories split my beliefs into two.

#AsianWriter

[memoirsfromthemiddle]

地龍

I’d come from digging a hole in the dirt, hands smeared with muddied earth, some making a home underneath my fingernails. They were always cut short and rounded to the tips so they wouldn’t clatter along the keys that I was impelled to practice on daily. Most days, my little heart just wanted to play; roll around in the grass and run through the woods as if they extended endlessly, becoming an overgrown forest of euphoria… a place where pockets of reality opened and I could become someone else–be somewhere else. Almost like I could go home at any moment. 

As I poured water into the hole, I saw an earthworm wriggling into the tiny pool. The worm managed to move into this serous concavity, curling themself into a spiral as the liquid slowly seeped back into the soil. My eyes never left this coiled dragon. I went onto my belly, head resting happily in my palms, knees kicking, fixated on this marvel. They always knew to scrunch whenever human hands would touch them, cautiously, I poked. At first, I was offended then, a little scared, thinking I may have caused them pain. My index and thumb carefully pinched the smooth body, both ends squirming around until they writhed in the center of my palm. I could almost feel how old they were… how they knew Earth before the dinosaurs.

I would stare into their cylindrical bodies, seeing gestating dirt moving past the segmented band. How incredible it is that they can digest matter and create a substance full of nutrients that in turn, feed and nourish us. These narrow and depreciated alchemists can do what we noxiously tarnish. I enjoyed holding them, protecting them–appreciating them. Sometimes, I would gather them and see if they wanted to hang out together. I wondered if they were familiars in this vast landscape.

There was some part of my six year old self that knew these little beings were extraordinary, cupping them dearly in my hands, pleasured that they simply exist. Gently placing them back into the hole, piling dirt back on top of them, and wishing them, “good night.”

Later that year, I was drifting off into dreams, laying on the bottom bunk—I woke from limbo, face tingling. The room was dark and the hallway light was feint enough to somehow show my sister through the mattress, writhing above me. Something was following her movements, something viscous, unparalleled and otherworldly.

There was an chill in the air, crisp—uncertain. An air that only autumn knew. The gaps between tingling gradually grew, and pulses grew stronger. I realized I was losing control of my tiny body…

I was having my first seizure.

[cindy-chu]

I can’t think about this 👗 texture too much or it sets off my trypophobia slightly. Where my trypophobes at? 😉 Once when I was little, I was in our backyard looking at the ground, before we had ducks. (Another story.) Our backyard was teeming with bug life. 🐜 🐛 🕷Looking down at the ground all I could fixate on were the tiny 🕳 🕳 🕳 everywhere, inside which were beetle larvae. I became so terrified I could not move, I was frozen to the spot afraid of these little grubs. But of course eventually I had to go back into the house so I tiptoed ran to our back door. There are times in life where you’ll be scared to take the next step. I’ll repeat something I’ve heard a lot of actors saying in Q&As recently. “ASK FOR HELP.” Where appropriate, find the people who can help you. I’d been wanting to write a script for a few years now but had no idea where to start, I got some books but I know I learn better with classes to get me started. That’s when I saw @teresapalooza was teaching this pilot writing class through @eastwestplayers and I immediately decided to apply. I was scared, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I applied anyway and got accepted. I believe we’re all more capable and more brave than we know. Our brains are able to build new neural pathways, we can change our mindsets and habits, and we can always learn and hone new skills. The point of this post is three months ago I had only the vaguest concept for a pilot, and now I’ve got a first act as well as the rest of it outlined. It’s already been through two dozen iterations at least. I know it’ll still go through a dozen more. We all start somewhere and build from there. Ask for help and keep evolving, otherwise you’re stagnating and limiting your own potential. Thank you Teresa for helping us unlock our stories and bring them to life. ✍🏻🤓🎭🎬 #asianwriter #writerslife #challengeyourself #evolution #personalgrowth #storytime #askingforhelp #asianactress #asianmodel #storyteller (at West Hollywood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4u-Q7xASwr/?igshid=k0cpja0m1ugf

[slipwords]

stars

the sky is full of stars

only when sleep lulls the world

so that the mortals gazing from below

don't claim it for themselves

for even the sky fears human nature

[tachyonpub]

Tachyonite @jhameiagoh has a story in The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy 2018! Check out "The Last Cheng Beng Gift" in this fantastic anthology edited by N.K. Jemisin and John Joseph Adams #jaymeegoh #bestamericansciencefictionandfantasy #sff #nkjemisin #johnjosephadams #anthology #shortstories #womenwriters #asianwriter #ownvoices #fantasybooks #scifibooks #bestof2018 #books #bookstagram #newbooks #authorsofinstagram https://www.instagram.com/p/BpUzXb5lHdp/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=rtkud16o9swt

[sammitani]

Getting the evil eye from Devilman (popular Japanese anime character) at Nisei Week. There are a number of Japanese culture references in The Prototype. #anime #japaneseanime #otaku #devilman #japanculture #japaneseculture #novel #asianwriter #japanesewriter (at Japanese American Cultural & Community Center - JACCC)

[eggwhiteswithspinach]

So, in Cristina Yang, I saw me. I saw that an Asian character could be an integral part of the show without being someone’s "sidekick".

#AsianWriters

[theankiet]

this is one of my favorite lines i've ever written, and it's true and will be. and because a lot of us are born in darkness, it never meant to be dying too there, we've got out our whole capabilities and our subconscious powers to eradicate it with our own light, our own light. Sending love to all 🌍 🙏 #theankiet #ankitsingh #poets #poetrycommunity #communityofpoets #intuition #loveisanart #lovelypoets #indianpoet #indiepoet #indianauthor #asianwriter #recordsawardee #theviralpost #viralquote #virallines #poetsglobe #poetstribe #poetsandtexts #beautifulwords #motivator #profoundwords #meaningfulwords #linesoflife #berlinlines #londonlines (at Washington, DC) https://www.instagram.com/p/CMs-Ce6lPTN/?igshid=t769rsk7lqt6

[chefleoraptor]

Hey Everyone on social media! My birthday sweetheart Howie H. Chu published his little action series. It’s called “Destination Elementals” and is available on Amazon. Go and check it out. It’s an action packed series that takes place here in Toronto and features Asian characters as the main protagonists. The first chapter is only $3.00 CAD, so go on and support him! #action #adventure #writer #toronto #canada #asian #asianwriter #asianwritersincanada (at Toronto, Canada) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCqz_LEh8c1/?igshid=xxt9ws34x8rg

[grouchydairy]

In English, I could talk for days about the importance of loving my body. In Cantonese, I most quickly accessed the narrative of "ugly" being associated with single-eyelid eyes and "beauty" being associated with Eurocentric double-eyelid eyes.

#AsianWriters

[memoirsfromthemiddle]

point zero.

Since I was a child, a vision has stayed with me, one where I am floating... blissfully nude in a vast, salted and waveless ocean. Shores nowhere in sight. Whenever this vision comes, I am the same age. Face slightly different with each presentation, drifting with my back carried by the depths of unknown ultramarine. Face, knees, and toes, encircled by saltwater, rays transmitting messages of the Sun--shining prisms through the aqueous beads that sit atop my skin. My body, floating between worlds... existing in the middle.

I’ve lost count the times where I’ve been met with myself in the middle. In the middle of not knowing who or where I am—yearning just to know something. “Where do I belong, with-in or with-out this mirage that’s taken shape outside of me?”

It’s hard to say when this all started. Maybe it’s been present ever since I incarnated into flesh, this small body that packs punches before I knew what to do with that power. There was always a strong desire to be accepted by the people around me, only because I longed for belonging. I desired somewhere or someone to offer the feeling of being Home. 

At the time, I didn’t realize that those around me, would serve as a foundation for my insecurities, my perception of invisibility. This could be something that may have been passed down from my parents…especially my mother. She was culturally bred to believe that the guise of performative materialism, status and prestige, degrees and pedigrees, was something to be mindlessly marveled, even if you didn’t have it. 

It wasn’t until much later in life, in my twenty-something’s, where she finally told me she never went to university—that was such a shameful part of her past, she told falsehoods to folks so they would grant her access to grander spaces, to climb society’s ladder, and to become accepted into spaces that would inevitability create an internal world of disease and stress. Leading her to take her last breath just before the sun would rise.

My family history, both on my mother and father’s side, was always something of a mystery. One that remained hidden, behind closed doors, locked and sealed with a talisman so strong, it would take generations to break through. I’ve always longed for a close family. I’ve longed for my siblings and I to be close, my grandparents, aunties and uncles to teach me and tell me stories of that started with, “back in the day.” As the youngest of all the paternal cousins, most of them got married and had children when I was barely five, attending weddings, funerals, and celebrations that held the subtle secrets of ceremony and symbolism that only being of a certain culture could keep clear. 

Those gatherings slowly diminished after my paternal grandmother crossed over. I remember the feeling of excitement during New Year, making dumplings from scratch, wondering who would happily bite down on the lucky coin. The scent of mixed flour and water, chives and raw meat, round tables and affectionate shouting has always felt like a distant memory. Sometimes I question if I’m honoring the traditions in the “right way,” constantly doubting my broken Mandarin and my imperfect Japanese, later learning of my Hakkanese heritage--wishing I could learn to speak a dying language, only made that distance feel like pangea fissuring further beneath me.

This distance has grown not only from one point to another, but a manifestation of hollow-chested pain, one that isn’t expressed often, to those even close to me. I find we live in a time where the sunken layers that bare our soul are so dense and repressed that thawing them in this blazing solar flared sun could not expose them. Most things stay superficial and flat, keeping our dimensionality down. It’s an immense pain that can only be shared with those willing to dive into waters, where Beings beam with transparency...

“Skies seem softer when clouds caress spaces where they sleep. Stretched like spun wool, silkened by threads that speak in song. We reach up for rainbows, waiting to arch their backs--to glow and rain upon us.

Today... I saw a dragon in the sky, eating a Sun on fire... and I felt my body seep into complete coalescence.”

[cindy-chu]

Can’t wait to go to NYC to work on @heyjudylei’s indie feature #theworldsgreatest playing her Jessie! Here are some pics from when Judy last visited LA and I took her to The Grove for a very LA experience. Follow her for more updates, she’s just cast some awesome Asian actors as she continues filling out her ensemble, and I can’t wait to work with everyone on such a great story. 🎥🎞🎤🎬🎭 #nameplatenecklace #asianamerican #asianactress #asianwriter #asianfilmmakers #storytellers #comingsoon #judyandjessie #representationmatters (at The Grove) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4BAtWcgJPi/?igshid=asddaag4j45w