For The Writers We've Always Been and The Writers We're Becoming
On being a writer and becoming one, then and now, and the things that buoy us
I found a folder of old writing today while cleaning. Along with stacks of poems and short stories, I found the mini memoir (pictured above) that I wrote for a memoir class, in 2001. I worked at a copy shop on campus that year, and in-between binding projects for customers, I put my mini memoir together into as much of a little bound book as I could. It felt like the most honoring thing I could do as I transferred my 엄마 stories from my mind and heart to my hands in an offering I could share with others.
This class assignment would stay boxed away inside of me and with other “memories” on paper, seemingly collecting dust, until it was time for it to become Tell Me The Dream Again, over twenty years later. I didn’t know this assignment was the start of the book it would become, but I can remember how the work carried an invisible weight of value all those years ago.
It was affirming to see it and re-read some of my writing from then. It reminded me that this is who I’ve always been and have been becoming. It also made me sad. I’ve been writing for decades in some way or another, even if some of the writing was more living than typing. This reality has me feeling melancholy as a writer and artistic thinker today, and melancholy as I reacquaint myself with the writer and artistic thinker I was yesterday. Neither of us seem to fit into the world of quick, hot-takes, shock-value, or writing for the times in the ways people want writing. I try to remember what I’ve said and even taught before: a writer isn’t a writer because the public says she is, but man, it’s really hard to believe that sometimes, and it feels harder than ever today.
My “writer” story-in-motion isn’t a, “I never wanted to be a writer, but here we are” story. My writer story is that I’ve always been one, even before I knew what it meant or felt comfortable saying it out loud. Writing (my own and others’) has always been a buoy and a lifeline.
So today, I know it all matters AND I’m simultaneously asking myself and God if it really does.
But then again, I look at this old, unfinished work and see my creative, writerly self in the poems and stories I rediscovered today, and it’s crystal clear who I’ve always been and have been becoming at my core. And I see how this being and becoming can’t be taken away, no matter how anyone affirms or doesn’t affirm it. It requires a hospitality towards the strangest parts of oneself, which in turn allow an offering of hospitality to others. It’s not bound by age, acceptance letters, the world on fire, changing roles and seasons of life, someone important and their opinion, or bestseller lists. Dare I say it cannot be bound by the spiritual language of being “called,” either (more on this another time).
“You see, in my view a writer is a writer not because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, because everything she does is golden. In my view a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.” - Junot Diaz
Maybe, just maybe, it’s enough to know that. 🐅
A Communal Breath Prayer for Writers
Our work is communal, no matter how isolated and individual it can be and feel at times, and I think the way forward in hope requires us to see and care about our work in a communal way.
Some (not-so-new, but now-official) News
Months ago, I met a new friend a local chocolate cafe before a book event. I was so inspired by her presence, parts of her personal story that she shared with me, and her work as a paper artist in Indianapolis and beyond.
Fast forward to the recently announced publishing news that Shelley Hanmo and I (two Asian American women creatives - yes that is worth its own celebration!) get to work together on two forthcoming children’s picture books!
I wrote both of these two books some time ago, where they were saved on my computer for “later,” and a few twists and turns in my writing journey gave me the encouragement (along with my dear agent, Jevon) to try pitching them. They won’t be released for a little while now, but I can’t wait to see them in the hands and hearts of kids anywhere and everywhere when they do.
If you are an educator, librarian, book store owner or employee, parent, grandparent, auntie, or someone who loves and works with kids, keep your eyes out for these books. And, if you are local to or close to the greater Indianapolis area, Shelley and I would love to do an author/illustrator event with you and your kids.
A Buoy of Hope
The last couple of months have been really disorienting and I’ve struggled to stay afloat and not drown in the daily doom of my newsfeed. One small thing that has been a buoy for me is staying connected to and caring for those in my family and local community, and staying connected to the global church, and specifically, to Cambodia. I often feel small and powerless, and in the same way I wonder about writing and whether or not it matters, I wonder what I can do in the current reality of our nation and world. Signing petitions, speaking up, praying, and writing a letter can feel so minuscule, but doing these things together, communally (there’s a theme here), isn’t.
In my last substack, I shared about communal flourishing and about Cambodia and my travels there at the beginning of the year. The faith and love of the staff and students who are part of the Center for Global Impact in Cambodia has buoyed me time and time again since the start of 2025, and I want to invite you to join me in following and giving to the work there because we are bound to one another. In other words, we are created to be our brother’s and sister’s keepers, and they, ours. Our flourishing and liberation is tied to our brothers and sisters in our homes, in Cambodia, and across the world. If you are interested in learning more, find more information at the link above, or reach out and let’s talk. I’d love to share more.
“If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”
-Lilla Watson in collaboration with Aboriginal activist communities she’s part of.
Shalomsick as ever,
I can't tell you how much I needed this. I escaped at a big family event and went away for a thirty minute break to rest. I found myself questioning my identity, purpose, and also everything about my chosen path of being a writer. I spent a few minutes in prayer and saying some truth over myself. And then I just happened to read this. It really met me where I am at. Thank you.
Everything you write is beautiful. Thank you, Tasha! What you said about writing being an act of hospitality has stayed with me ever since. It's something I have to remind myself of often.
LOVE this quote - "My writer story is that I’ve always been one, even before I knew what it meant or felt comfortable saying it out loud."
Love that you bound your college memoir and congrats on the book deal! So happy for you :)