Feelings of being the geeky, nerdy, lone Chinese kid, who people thought was smart, cheating off his paper (big mistake) came flooding back into my barreled chest. Too much? All I ever wanted in high school was to be the big man on campus. Not be smart. Psh.

Delving into the victim mindset was something I grew up with, so I knew it was just a reactionary moment of despair. Then I kinda laughed about it after drying my tears because I was meeting my mother later, and remembered that a five-year-old girl can hold her liquor better than I could. I wish I was joking. This leads me to my first point. Don’t cheat off my paper. My book smarts is limited.

One of my friends graduated from the university with a Theater Arts degree. She had showcases in New York and Los Angeles and felt she belonged in LA. She had an offer from an agent to represent her, but she declined because she didn’t feel connected to this person.

Now. To get an agent in Holli’s wood is probably just as hard for an author in Litty’s (literary) world. So I have to applaud her. In a world where the talent, yup, I’m part o’dat group, can be desperate to get representation, they’d take whoever shows a little leg. But the power comes back to the talent, still part o’dat group, when we choose who we want to be represented by. Because the whoever represents us talented must at the least love work.

This brings me to my second point. Know you’re talented.

When I researched agents, I read their blogs to find the one thing I could relate myself or my book in my query letters to them. I had found one that I liked with similar humor to me. I was like, ommahgawd, were made to be. Then I read one of his posts, which went something like this: Many people play the piano for fun and never want to play in an orchestra. Why is it that people can’t write for the pure joy of it without wanting to be published?

This guy’s world must be really small. Most of the people that I know who write, write for pure joy in journals, twitter, blogs, and have no want to be published in the traditional sense. I know very few who would venture into the publishing world. Hmm. Maybe my world is small. For some reason his comment turned me off.

Why?

Maybe because I wanted to be that popular guy who everyone looks up at. Which is hard since I’m not that tall.

“Hey. That’s Jimmy Ng! He wrote NIGHTFALL. He’s like the J.K. Rowling of fantasy.”

“Dude, man. J.K. Rowling is the J.K. Rowling of fantasy.”

“Oh, yeah,” I thought, while tapping my bottom lip.

Do I want to become popular in the high school sense? No. Do I want everyone to read NIGHTFALL? Totally. It’s a dream of mine.

But it’s an important question to ask. I wanted to write it because I thought it would be fun. It was. I want the world to read it and just enjoy the exhilaration I felt writing the book. I serve so people may have a little bit of escapism.

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Although, I’m not sure what the significance is. I thought I’d use it to announce that I haven’t found that ‘yes’ from an agent who will help bring my story to the world, yet.

But I’ve been told that I can’t force a tomato plant to grow by yelling at it, throwing money at it, or by giving it an ultimatum.

“Grow or I’ll send you to your room!”

The tomato will grow on its own with the right environment. Basically, dirt, water and sun. Dirt is pretty much free. Water is cheap. And so far no one is charging for sunshine.

Is getting published, breaking into Hollywood if you’re an actor, finding your soul mate, soul searching for your passions like growing a tomato?

I was talking to a fellow writer from work. He’s a rabid reader and especially loves fantasy. I’d talked to him at the beginning of summer about his book and he had finished writing chapter five. He asked me how long it took to write mine. I said about four years.

A few months later, I asked him about his progress. He said he was at about chapter five. So either he’s been doing some serious rewriting, or he hadn’t written much. We had gotten onto the subject of forcing art. He still loved the idea of his book, loved writing, but needed some balance in life. I asked if he used an outline, and he said he wanted to, maybe it would help the flow of his writing and story.

Steven King starts his books with an idea and writes until it’s finished. John Irving starts his book with a very detailed outline. He needs to know where the story is going before writing.

Who’s method is right?

Both.

I told my friend to find a method that works best for him and just go with it. He agreed but stated that he didn’t want to force the creative process. I totally agreed. But is knuckling down on your work forcing?

With any creative undertaking, the artist only has to provide the most minimal of ingredients. Just like the tomato plant, it just needs dirt, water and sun. Everything else happens by itself.

One of the challenging things about writing fantasy is the creation of things that doesn’t exist in our world. Many fantasy writers use Tolkienesque creatures, which is great. My story came to me outside of that, and I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what to call the different things in my world.

My process was simple: I ask the question. Like, what do I call this bug that my character eats? Then I wait. Sometimes it comes to me immediately. Sometimes it comes to me in a month. Nevertheless, it comes to me.

But it comes to me not just because I ask the question, but because I show up for the answer. I spend a lot of time each day fantasizing about my world. I imagine the feelings each character goes through. I think about the conversations they have, their goals, and their character arcs. Since the majority of my days are spent at work, I tend to find a lot of dead time that allows me to do this. Don’t tell my boss.

The point is show up. I show up to write. I show up to think. I show up and work. Forcing something would be like sticking strictly to my outline and not coloring outside the lines. Have an outline, but let the idea sprout. Let little surprises in. Let mistakes enter. For those are the things that can make any artistic project grow into something amazing like a tomato plant. Just watch out of the killer tomatoes.

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We’re both writers and we’d talked about writing the story that calls to us. With all the vampiric stories that are being churned both in the publishing and film industry, I don’t blame people for jumping on the band wagon.  But the point of being an artist is to express your soul.  And if your soul says write a vampire story, then write a vampire story.

When it comes to finding out what you want to do with your life, what story should be written, what path you should take, you need to be honest with yourself.  How do you be honest with yourself?

First of all, are you honest with other people? I’m not talking about being a saint, never telling lies, never doing anything wrong. Were human. But do you care about what other people say about you? Do care about what other people think about you? Do you put all your stock in your status in life?

Why is this important?

Because any of this, namely your ego, can block your true self.  You become motivated by the things that seem important–the size of your house, the German car in your massive garage, the name brand clothes you wear, the title of your job, bottled water.  Do these things matter?  That’s for you to decide.  Do they matter when it comes toexpressing yourself honestly? No.

When I went to the San Francisco Writers Conference, Richard Paul Evans, one of the keynote speakers said something that really hit home. Especially since he’s a New York Times bestselling author.  He said write your truth.  Don’t hop on the bandwagon. Don’t be a follower.  Lead by leading.

Bruce Lee said the same thing. Honestly express yourself.

Look at the things that you’re drawn to.  Do you love music?  Any particular kind?  Try that out.  Do you love software programming?  Try that out.  Do you love selling?  If you have an affinity for houses, maybe you should be a real estate agent.  Or if you love helping people get healthier, maybe you should try physical therapy, personal training, nursing.

Is there a common theme that runs throughout your life?

For me, I’ve always loved stories.  And I always loved fantasizing, putting myself in action movie roles, imagining what it would be like to be betrayed by a close friend, finding myself in a fantasy land where I’m a warlord.  Since my sophomore year, I’ve tried to write novels.  But when it came to deciding a major in college, I never thought of majoring in English or creative writing.  Why?  I’m not sure.  Maybe the things I had to go through as a person lent itself to writing the series of novels that I’m writing now.

I’m not angry about it.  Nor do I judge it.  I realize that I have stories to be told, and I’m telling them.

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Is marriage a common thing like it is in our world?  Are there family dinners?  Or do people fend for themselves?  Or is it more like a socialist society where the bounties are shared?

In creating my world, I borrowed from different cultures.  Not that I studied any one of them in depth.  I didn’t need to.  The elements I chose were used to convey an overall philosophy without explicitly writing it.  A couple of examples:

In the Matrix, the real world is not the real world.  And the world after being awakened was due to a choice of taking the red pill.  The whole movie is about choice. 

In Karate Man, aka Karate Kid, the man who believed in himself and was of pure heart won out.  Not the one with the bigger muscles and or more experience.

Fast and Furious is interesting.  If you gots the most fastest cars, the bestest finest chicks, and the deepestest voice with big ass muscles, then a plot or a message need not apply.  This is kinda true for Transformers.

Age just happens to be an important element.  For example, a toddler is referred as someone who’s in the morning of their lives.  As they move into the coming of age, which just happens to be different for every one, they’ve entered the afternoon of their lives.  And as you may have guessed, once wisdom settles in, the person strolls into the evening of their lives.

There is a reason I refer to age this way.  And it ties neatly into the culture of the provinces.

I think about age a lot because so many people place some sort of limitation due to age.

Look up a guy named Randy Couture.  He’s a UFC fighter who’s currently 46 years old.  He takes on guys over a decade younger and wins.

One of my ex-employers said once he hit his thirties, his metabolism slowed, he got fatter, and felt tired.  He failed to see that as he grew older he did less and less.  When he dated his wife, they went out a lot, went on vacations, took walks.  Now that they’re married with kids, they stay home a lot more, barely take any vacations, and any type of physical exertion has been removed.

Age had nothing to do with his physique.

I’m 37 years old.  I workout four times a week.  Yes, I like to look good.  So I’m a bit superficial.  Nothing wrong with that.  There is a more pertinent reason why I exercise.  When I studied kinesiology, one of my teachers was a physical therapist.  All of his clients were senior citizens, his specialty.  He said something that never left me.

“There’s one truth about human beings.  You’ll leave this world the same way you came in.  Bald, drooling, and pooping in a diaper.”

I pressed my lips together, pondering what it’s like taking a dump in diapers.  Then he said something that totally changed my view on exercise.  Exercise will improve the quality of life as we enter the evening of our lives.  I’m not sure if I’ll do a number 2 in diapers.  I don’t spend much time thinking about that.  But I’ve made sure exercise has become a part of my life.

Luckily, my family, my mom included, has embraced that as well.

One last thing about age.  I’ve now encountered about half a dozen men who shy away when asked how old they are?  WTF?  It’s one thing that women shy away from this subject.  But men?  Is this a growing trend?  Have they become sensitive about their age?  Grow a set of brass balls.

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I was at the gym and saw this girl. Cute. Then it happened. “Her eyes are too Asian,” I said to myself.

Huh?

First off every one is perfect in their own way. It’s why there isn’t a perfect cherry blossom. No such thing. Because every blossom is perfect (From The Last Samurai). This applies to humans as well. Once we start comparing one to another is when this Eastern way of looking at things deteriorates.

When I was practicing crap martial arts, see my bio, we were given a special treat. Our teacher brought in a Chinese Kung Fu teacher to teach us a Chinese form. A form is a series of martial art movements against imaginary opponents. By the way, that in itself is not the best way to learn how to fight. And what makes a form Chinese? The slantiness of the movement?

As my friend and I practiced the form–we’re both Chinese–we were marvelling at how different the movement was from the daily crap that we practiced. Keep in mind I didn’t know I was studying crap martial arts till I was awakened.

One of the supervising instructors came to us and said, “You’re too Chinese,” referring to our movement.

My friend and I looked at each other. Then looked at our non-Chinese supervising teacher.

“Nooooo,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to be too Chinese.” Were our eyes extra slanty?

Everbody knows not to be judgemental. Even those who are aware of why can place judgement on others. We are after all human. It’s the conscious practice of being non-judgemental that’s important. Not the mistakes of when we are. But if you’re not aware that judgement is wrong, is the person still to blame?

I can’t say. And neither does the hero of my book. So what does he do? Continues to serve despite the hate he gets from doing so.

In Bruce Lee’s only filmed interview he was asked if he wanted to be thought of as Chinese or a North American. He was born in San Francisco. He said he wanted to be thought as a human being.

Here’s an experiment: Spend an hour without placing judgement on others. If you do, no problem. Just start the hour over. See how long you can do it.

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The cool thing about it was how Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, challenged the wireless carriers. Something that none of the cell phone makers were able to do.

According to the article, the carriers dictated what features could go on a handset, how it should operate and such. But Jobs probably had a dream: phone calls from an iPod.

I also think there were several carriers and industry experts that scoffed at the idea, thinking the market for that would be small. And the Blackberry was king of smartphones at the time.

Jobs went ahead with his idea, basing the iPhone on a concept model Apple made before.

When the iPhone first came out, it was met with great fanfare. The reviews were mixed and several features were missing that were found on more mediocre cell phones. But it became a hit.

On June 19th, this past Friday, I stood in line for the newest iteration, the iPhone 3GS. News reporters, Mac fans, and Apple store employees gathered to what looked like a small scaled Star Trek convention. People came in costume, others carried old Macs while in line, customers were interviewed, employees handed out water or juice bottles for those in line. It was really cool.

So what’s the point of this on a website that focuses on fantasy and individuality?

The iPhone was fantasy before it became real, and Jobs took on giants, namely the wireless carriers, and won. No one, not even RIM, makers of Crackberry (Blackberry), had changed the field as Apple did. Apple may be big, but in the scheme of things they’re tiny in comparison to those they took on.

Dream big, don’t listen to anyone who says you can’t, and go forth with action. Isn’t that what all great strories depict?

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People will get an awesome idea and get right to work.  Then they realize one truth.  Anything worth having takes work.  It doesn’t have to be difficult.  Suddenly, after a few days effort, they stop or quit, stating the inspiration has left them.

What the hell?

There’s a saying. “Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety nine percent perspiration.”  Thomas Edison.

To illustrate this, I’m going to paraphrase an example I’ve read by Michael Neill.  Google him.  He’s pretty damn cool.

I have a friend who works at Home Depot.  They have mountains of white paint in the paint department.  How ironic.  When a customer requests blue, for example, my friend places a few drops of blue in the white, and voila, you have blue paint. If the customer changes their minds and wants purple, a few drops of red and there you have it.  Purple.  The drops of colored paint is the inspiration, but the white base is the work.

In all arts, the inspiration is usually short lived.  But your passion and work carries it to fruition.  If people expect ever-flowing inspiration, then eventually the paint turns black.

When I was writing my novel, I had a big problem.  There are three basic types of fantasies.  A professional novelist pointed this out to me:

1.    Strange toad in a familiar garden.

a.     Witches, vampires, and werewolves in the real world.

2.     Familiar toad in a strange garden.

a.     Humans in middle earth, humans in space, humans at the center of the earth.

3.     Strange toad in a strange garden.

a.     Witches, vampires, or werewolves in space.

Mine is the third type. Which just happens to be the hardest because I have to world build the strange toad and the strange garden.  It wasn’t my choice.  It’s not like I sat down and said, “Wow. This sounds fun.  Let’s take the hardest freakin’ thing and jump.”

The story came to me.  And I ran with it.  Now came the hard part.  I needed tons of ideas to create this world.  So I sat down every day, wrote, and ideas came slowly at first.  Then within a few days I was flooded with them.  A lot of other artists has described similar experiences.  I had to buy a notebook or I’d forget them, which quickly filled with disjointednuggets of gold.

Did I use all of them?  Most.

The moral?

Follow through with your flashes of genius.  You’ll never know what will come.  If you need ideas to support your work, ask for them.  They’ll come.

Vampires in space.  Hmmm.

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