Why is it so hard to have a sex dream?

25 05 2015

Seriously. More often than not, something annoying comes up and then I get distracted and have to deal with some other problem.

Last night, I was lucid for a bit, and then proceeded to try and grab some hot guys to take to my room up on the sixth floor (of some massive building, something like an opera house). I found one guy, then two more (as a sidenote, in my dreams, I love how guys are gay if you want them to be gay). We headed over to the elevators but they were out of order. I looked up, and the fifth floor above us was basically a gaping, crumbling hole. There was a shuttle elevator that went all the way up to the sixth floor which was oddly placed at the plaza outside of the central library. When we got there, there was a line up of people. All of a sudden, our priority was getting on this elevator (which was more like an aquarium tank with holes on the side than an elevator). One of them got angry at me when I missed going into the elevator, so the next time it came around, I hopped into it right away. No one else seemed to be able to get on, so I was on the elevator alone. As it started going up, I got the feeling that something wasn’t right — then the elevator slowed down, and started falling back down…

And then I woke up. But how disappointing was that? I was so ready to have hot imaginary sex with four hot guys… only to be foiled by elevator troubles. Ugh. I think next time I should just grab some guys and do it right then and there. Who cares about privacy? Let’s see if that works tonight.

How Art Talks to Art

21 05 2015

Originally blogged from my official site:

The choice to make my memoir a mixed-genre book was a surprisingly easy one to make. Back when I was sure it was going to be a straightforward memoir, a writer friend and colleague of mine suggested, half-kidding (I think? She jokes a lot so it’s hard to tell sometimes), “Is it gonna be mixed genre? Throw in some poems? Yeah? Yeah! You know it!” Sure, I had thrown around the idea of making my memoir a mixed-genre book but never seriously thought about it. When I went home that day, I looked at my poems — and also some of the few fiction pieces I had written  — and saw that some of them naturally fit with the pieces in my memoir, like how continents fit together.

I thought it was a pretty neat idea, writing a mixed-genre memoir. I certainly wasn’t the first to do it either. Amber Dawn’s memoir, How Poetry Saved My Life, includes both memoir and poetry. More recently, Amy Poehler’s book, Yes Please, features essays, haikus, and other odd little pieces of writing. Bossypants by Tina Fey includes the Sarah Palin/Hilary Clinton SNL script that became famous.

My memoir contains, poetry, a short script, a short play, song lyrics, and, of course, memoir. I know it might seem strange to include fiction, and I’ve tried to explain it concisely as I’ve could in the queries and book proposals I’ve been sending out, in an effort to make publishers and editors see that I’m not just a weirdo novice writer who is scrapbooking my greatest hits. But it’s difficult because I feel like it requires a bit more explanation. So if you’re a publisher trying to figure out why you have a multi-genre memoir thing on your desk, here’s your answer.

I made a short film called Stay, which is about two Chinese-Canadian gay men and what happens when one of them refuses to stay the night. You don’t need to know anything about me to watch this film (in fact, it’s on YouTube). After watching it (or before, really), if I told you that my first boyfriend was Chinese-Canadian and in the closet, and that we never had a night together, how does that change your reading/interpretation of the Stay? (Does the film come across as a fantasy/hope if the real same had stayed the night?) How does Stay reveal autobiography as a work of fiction? What can you suggest about why I decided to write and make the film?

Maybe it’s just the English major in me, the one that constantly analyzes things for meanings, but these are the kind of questions I like to ask — and I’d like people to ask — when reading my work. Not everyone will want to think this deeply, for sure, but I think they’re good questions to ask.

Here’s another way to put it. I recently watched a documentary called National Gallery, made by Frederick Wiseman. At one point in the film, a worker at the National Gallery in London explains how paintings and works “talk to each other.” When looking at a painting on its own, he says, you may have one interpretation. When put next to another painting, it causes you to reinterpret both paintings; you notice things you didn’t notice before. They both mean different things.

That’s exactly what I’m trying to do with my mixed-genre book. I’m trying to show readers a different way — my perspective — of looking at not just my straightforward memoir pieces, but all the other kinds of writing and art that I do and make. I believe that this reveals a lot more about a person that a simple memoir, and as someone who feels constantly misunderstood (or not understood at all), I relish the opportunity to give people this special insight. And it’s not just me trying to boast to everyone that I can write a script and a play (although that is an added bonus).

Hope that makes sense. I feel like it will make more sense once my book is available and people can read it for themselves (hint hint, publishers). What are your thoughts? Do you think a mixed-genre memoir is a good idea?



15 05 2015

Got a rejection letter from the publishing house that I thought for sure would accept my book proposal, so I’m really bummed out. And if they didn’t want it, who will now? Is my mixed-genre memoir too strange and unconventional to be marketable and sellable?

Back to the drawing board…

I’m sorry I made you cry

13 05 2015

It hurt to watch you cry in front of me and know that I was the cause of it. When I first heard this song months ago, I thought of you. So this is for you.

And I’ve always loved you, haven’t always loved you right

I quit.

11 05 2015

Men. And boys. Fuck.

Damn, I love this movie

10 05 2015

Racists feel hurt too

8 05 2015

Called out a guy who said he “wasn’t into Asian guys” as a racist. He told me it was “hurtful” and that I was “extreme.” I thought that was funny that he was playing the victim, but did my best to calmly explain to him that sexual attraction is not “simply chemicals in the brain”, but that sexuality is complex and has influences, including porn, hypermasculinity, and femmephobia. I don’t think he really cared though. Oh well.


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