Control C / Control V

The first paper I ever wrote was about the digestive system. I think I was about 9 years old. I didn’t quite understand that “writing a paper” meant using my own words. I checked out a library book and copied its contents word for word. I even traced the book’s cute illustrations in the margins of my notebook paper. 

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Why do I write?

I always ask Sung to read my newspaper columns before I submit them. He isn’t much of a reader or writer, but he has an innate sense of good vs. bad with anything art-related.

For this month’s column, I wanted to celebrate my marriage and highlight my new last name. I used my blog post about how Sung and I met. But chopping it down to 600 words did not do the story any favors.

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Junkyard Mind

My brain has become a rusty scrapyard. There’s no movement besides the occasional tumbleweed rolling through. And this is really inconvenient, because I need to find something to write about.

Every month, I’m scheduled to send one 600ish word column to my local newspaper. The subject can be literally anything under the sun: the editor only asks that it be “a reprieve from politics.”

Easy enough, right? For someone who enjoys writing as much as I do, it should be a piece of cake. Well … it’s not.

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