When Will kindly asked me to guest blog about Asian representation in the film industry I was a little hesitant. It’s a subject that I’m close to which means I’m definitely biased. Maybe I can’t see the forest for the trees, maybe I allow emotion to cloud my judgment. Plus working in the industry also means I have a vested interest in the outcome, which in some ways, means this blog post is a little selfish. Not to mention it’s a complex topic, and I can’t hope to cover the breadth and depth in one post. I’m merely scratching the surface here. Hopefully my simple words encourage more conversations.
“I remember sitting in my friend’s driveway saying, ‘I just don’t want to do this anymore. I’ll still do it, but I don’t want to. I don’t even choose to do it anymore. I just do it.’ I couldn’t hide behind any of the crutches I’d used before. I wanted the feeling of being a part of something, or not being a part of something. That was the whole reason I was using, to not feel like myself anymore.”
Deadlines!!! Some people thrive on them, and others cannot work within restrictions. But if you want to get your book published, deadlines are an absolute necessity. I personally don’t like deadlines, but I do respect them and I have come to realize that without them I would keep procrastinating and nothing would ever get done.
He has my eyes and olive skin. We share the same birth month and a love of quirky humor. Our curiosity will force us to read about whatever new interest until we understand. I have known my son before I even met him, feeling him first move inside me when I Harry Potter dueled Voldemort, their wands power meeting with so much intensity even my baby was affected by the adrenaline.
I’ve talked a lot about how many of the stupidest book ideas I have received from friends, like the ones about the drug cartel penguins or the story about a vampire who is fat because no vampires are fat (funny story about that one; I actually found a book in the grocery store dollar bin called ‘Fat Vampire’ a couple years after that). It is true that when people find out I’m an author, they either want to interview me on Periscope (we did that the other night; it was fun), they want to read my blurbs in some hilarious accent (that happened too), or they want to pitch me some idea that is ridiculous at best.
If I had a temple in which I worshiped it would be a darkened movie theater. I've been a devoted follower of the magic of film since childhood. Back then such devotion offered the added gift of being able to remain in the temple through multiple services. For the price of one dollar, my mother sent us off to the movies while she worked. Once through the doors, I could stay for as many showings as I wished, or at least until my mother got off work. No one booted me out at the end of the first showing, nor did the indifferent ushers coming in to sweep pay much attention to the girl sitting in the back watching all the credits.
Four new poems from writer Nuala Reilly.
All humans are sexual. It is only the stigma of the act that makes us claim otherwise. For so many years, sex has been looked upon as dirty, and only a means of increasing an already overpopulated and abused planet.