Wednesday, May 22, 2013
by lexiconia
“American Airlines flight 1020 is now boarding.”The announcement crackled over the speakers in the waiting lounge. I gave my farewell party a small smile. I’d never have thought, coming to New York over a month ago, to hide from the world at my only friend’s place, that so many people would be here to see me off.
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Wednesday, May 8, 2013
by lexiconia
Let me tell you a story from two years ago, a story that few people outside my family know.It’s probably two or three in the morning–I’m not sure, and I don’t really care at this point. It’s my turn for bedside duty while the rest of the family gets some much-needed rest. I’m watching the monitors above the hospital bed as they peak with each heartbeat. They cast a faint glow over the mostly-darkened Intensive Care Unit, where my dad lies sleeping after emergency surgery. It’s a restless sleep, one where he awakens every ten minutes or so to shift position. Except that he’s so weak, I need to physically roll him from side to side. Feeling his arms and legs cold and limp under my hands, there’s no doubt that he’s a long way from the dad who was lifting weights and cycling intensively just a day or two ago.
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Wednesday, May 1, 2013
by lexiconia
Growing up in a first world country, I had the usual collection of Polly Pockets and Barbie dolls that most little girls are given at one point or another in their childhood. The Polly Pockets came with little clamshell worlds, while the Barbies had a large wardrobe for the (non-)discerning fashionista-to-be.
But despite these toys, my favourite way of passing the time was playing with the magnets on the fridge.
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Wednesday, April 24, 2013
by lexiconia
A favourite story of mine is one that my dad would always tell me and my sister when we were children.
It’s about a little boy who lived in a kampong, a small rural village in Malaysia, back around 1950. Now, my dad would say, this boy was incredibly mischievous, always getting himself into no end of trouble–upon which his dad would come after him, stick in hand.
One of the boy’s favourite past times was swimming, due to the hot and humid climate all year round. The problem was, there wasn’t a proper swimming pool in the kampong. Not in those days. This village was inland, with no rivers or large bodies of water nearby. My dad would shake his head as he said this part, and the two of us would lean in a little closer. Where could he go?
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Tuesday, April 16, 2013
by lexiconia
It’s a common occurrence that when people know you’re a writer, you get asked to write speeches or messages in greeting cards on behalf of everyone else. They assume that because you craft prose for fun (or for a living, if you’re lucky), you will always have the right words for the occasion.
Sometimes, there simply are no words.
When faced with a situation like the Boston Marathon bombing yesterday, condolences are empty. Justifications do no justice, and the best intended reassurances sound like weak platitudes.
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Wednesday, April 10, 2013
by lexiconia
Durian is a strange fruit. With most other fruits, people either love them or treat them with indifference. Durian, however, polarises. There’s a great divide between the “love it” and “hate it” camps. Those who love it will wax eloquent on its deliciously distinctive flavor slightly reminiscent of custard, the sweet creaminess that melts in your mouth, and even the joy of licking it off your fingers. Those who hate it, however, will speak with disdain of its ugly, spiky exterior and its pervasive, pungent aroma–though durian lovers will contest just how malodorous it actually is.The thing about durians is that no matter the camp you may be in, when you encounter one, you know exactly what it is.
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Wednesday, April 3, 2013
by lexiconia
The was a time when I used to think that critiquing others’ writing was a necessary time-drain. In the same way you might help a friend to level up when playing a multiplayer game for the purpose of having a required companion to run through a dungeon with you, there was always a major element of self-interest when it came to beta-reading. The reasoning went as such: I suppose I’ll critique their work, so someone else will do the same for mine.
Sound familiar?
But as I’ve spent more time in the past few months critiquing a variety of writing, I’ve come to realise that it also provides invaluable experience for me as a writer. (Yes, I realise there’s still an element of self-interest there.) But as I’ve taken the time to look over someone else’s work with a genuine intent to improve it, I’ve found that it’s carried over into my own writing as well.
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Wednesday, March 27, 2013
by lexiconia
One of the key rules all writers are taught (or should be taught!) from the beginning is: Show, don’t tell. And it’s definitely one of the keys to solid prose. After beta-reading a friend’s novel, however, I think it needs a small addition to the end: Show, don’t tell… but don’t forget to motivate.
We all do things for a reason. There is always a driving factor to our actions, whether or not we are aware of it. Consciously, I speed because I’m running late, and I feel embarrassed when attending an event that I consider important, or where I’ll miss part of it–I hate the feeling that I’ve missed out on something. I suspect it’s due to the inherently competitive culture of Asian society. In Singapore, there’s even a common word to describe people who are scared to lose. (“Kiasu”, for those who are curious.)
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Wednesday, March 20, 2013
by lexiconia
I’m writing this article with a Dvorak keyboard layout. It arranges the letters on your keyboard differently, so that “D” becomes“E”, “K” becomes “T”. You can see the layout here. It’s slow, laborious, and my words per minute has dropped from 100 to 2, or thereabouts. To most people, it’s a completely worthless skill to learn, as they can type just fine on a standard keyboard. I fall into that category too, and before this week I wouldn’t have thought of attempting it. So why am I starting now? (No, the answer is not that I needed a topic to write about, though it does help!)
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Wednesday, March 13, 2013
by lexiconia
A popular meme for artists is to look back over the work they’ve done over the years, and pull it together to show how they’ve improved. So I thought I’d try the same with my writing. The point of this isn’t to show how I was a literary prodigy at a young age–far from it. In fact, I want to show you just how terrible I was, and show how someone with no natural talent can improve through a lot of hard work. If I can do it, anyone can.
So without further ado, here goes… and please, try not to laugh too hard.
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