Note: I found this on my bookshelf during a recent trip to my parents’ home in Houston. This is THE piece that opened my eyes and made me determined, at age 9, to be a writer. I had to laugh when I reread it, because it’s not very good, but hey, for a kid, it could be a lot worse. I present it here for nostalgia’s sake. All errors have been left intact. This is what I turned in to Mr. Peden’s Study Skills class at Kinkaid Summer School, what got me an A+, and what set the course for the rest of my life.

A cool breeze swept over the pond, creating ripples in all directions. The lily pads were pushed, some toppled over, releasing their lilies into the clear green water. One touch of this refreshingly cool water, and heaven is on the way. The silky, sparkling pond is like no other in this universe. From the way it shines to the way it feels, it is different.

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500 words

Dear Angie,

As usual, I’m having trouble focusing. It’s the last day of the week that I can devote completely to my writing, and yet the gravity of that does little to motivate me. I should be taking full advantage of this day to myself, but instead I am resisting the temptations of the internet, television, and a nap. This is no easy feat — all are well within my reach. But I figure that writing to you, while not technically something that will advance my career as an author, is more productive than any of the alternatives. At least it’s writing, right?

Do you ever have trouble getting yourself to sit down and concentrate on a single task? Continue reading →

900 words

Note: I was asked to speak about women at Carnegie Mellon’s 2005 Community Collage, our freshman orientation diversity forum. I struggled for months to write a speech that I thought would be appropriate. Then, two days before I was to give the speech, I scrapped it and completely rewrote it. This is the result.

Hi everyone, I’m Kristan. Let me start by saying that I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to make this speech interesting and applicable to everyone. Kind of ironic, huh? I’m supposed to speak to a group of 700 people, about diversity, and I want to appeal to all of them? No way. There is no way.

So what I decided to do instead was to talk about something — or rather someone — who is really important to me. My mom.

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537 words

For Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend did not buy me chocolates or flowers. He also didn’t take me out to dinner. He didn’t give me a giant teddy bear, or a mix tape, or any of the usual romantic Hallmark-y things. No, for Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend drove me from Cincinnati to Chicago—for the Spice Girls concert. If enduring a whole weekend of Girl Power doesn’t demonstrate his love, I’m not sure what could. (Nevermind the fact that for Valentine’s Day, I made my boyfriend endure a whole weekend of Girl Power…)

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921 words

My parents and I have come to visit my grandmother. We live in Houston, TX, and she in Taipei, Taiwan, so this is no small occasion. After an 18-hour, $1000-per-person transoceanic flight, my mom and dad are tired and want to rest. I, on the other hand, am strangely awake.

First I put my suitcase in what will be my room for the next two weeks. (It actually belongs to my cousin, who I call Ge ge, or big brother, but he is currently serving his required 22 months in the Taiwanese military.) Then I pad down the stairs and through the living room into my grandmother’s bedroom.

She’s asleep, lying in the middle of her queen-sized mattress, swallowed up by a big flowery comforter. (Everyone else, including me, sleeps on stiff bamboo mats with only a few thin sheets.) A fan rotates back and forth on its stand, blowing cool humid air across the soft skin of my grandmother’s forehead. I sit in one of the big wooden chairs in the hallway and look in on her through the door.

Sometimes she doesn’t know who we are.

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427 words

What looks like a panda, barks like a Beagle, and won’t walk in the rain?

Riley.

Riley is my new puppy. I’ve had him for about three weeks, but let me tell you, it feels more like three years. My boyfriend and I adopted him from a great local shelter, and we have been busy adjusting our lives ever since.

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570 words

The other day, a good friend of mine came to me because she was “freaking out.” She had applied for a major international scholarship for graduate school but had not received a callback for the interview process. This was the second year in a row that she had tried; she did not want it to be the second year in a row that she failed.

Unfortunately, I think I provided little if any consolation. The truth, I told her, is that she probably shouldn’t apply to anything if she isn’t prepared to be denied.

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647 words

(Co-written with Angie Liang)

Angie

Between the sweltering heat and sticky humidity, you would think it was still summer. As I walked to class on my first day as a graduate student, mosquitoes swarmed my bare legs, viscously biting to survive. Survive just as I had that summer.

Rather than joining the workforce after college graduation, I chose to continue my education, much to the surprise of my parents, who assumed that I’d be well on my way to a high-paid executive position with some Fortune 500 Company. Instead, I found an internship in New York City that would engage my mind and my time until school started in the fall.

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678 words

(Co-written with Angie Liang)

As new columnists, we would like to use this first opportunity to introduce ourselves to you and let you know a little bit about who we are and where we are.

For us, one summer has ended, but another is just beginning. As the leaves transform from green to gold, we too are changing. At 22, we are no longer in the spring of our lives, when everything is beautiful and new. Now things are heating up, making us sweat, working up our thirst. This is not like the season of play we used to anticipate so eagerly. This is our transition into the so-called Real World.

Even though we have been best friends for the past 8 years, we find ourselves entering this new phase in very different ways. One is back in Texas, where we were born and raised; the other moved 1,100 miles away to Ohio. How did we get to these places? Summer brought us here.

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