There were nametags involved

Today I met with Melissa, the general manager of the Man Hong Kong Literary Festival and attended the International Writers Workshop Welcome Reception. The reception was held at the Marco Polo Hotel in TST (an absolutely gorgeous hotel, I might add... for a moment, I considered blowing my Fulbright money for a night in this place) and it was wonderful to finally meet with the visiting writers, faculty, administration, and also Bei Dao, who is a well-known Chinese poet (I am familiar with his work from Li-hua Ying's Contemporary Chinese Literature class I took my sophmore year at Bard). The theme of this year's workshop is "Writing from the Sea and the Waterfront", which actually seems quite fitting to my own sensibilities, growing up on the Jersey shore (and being on the Hudson). Just this past summer, I wrote a poem/letter called "To: Water" while I was in Boulder, Colorado -- where I was so far from water, so far from home. Speaking of which, for the first time, I took the Star Ferry across from TST to Central and crossed the harbour.

While I was talking to a few people at the event, I kept having this terrible feeling that I have to prove myself because of my age. That I should be taken seriously as a writer, that I can be articulate (well, at least I try to be). Yes, I am what they call "an emerging writer", but I don't fit under the awful stereotype of young college/fresh-out-of-college writers who are only interested in writing about the party life, the break-ups. And to be honest, it's quite difficult at times; I have no idea why I feel older than I actually am... why I focus on writing about married couples, the elderly, the life experiences that are not quite mine. Past and future.... present? Not so much. Okay, maybe I live the life of a twenty-something when I'm not writing, but on the page it's different. Or at least that is how I challenge myself. Keep learning, keep evolving as a writer.

Plus, it doesn't help that I look like I'm seventeen.