According to Amazon.com’s Omnivoracious blog, “Book Four in Stephenie Meyer’s bestselling Twilight series will be available at 12:01AM on Saturday, August 2.”
I’ve only read the first book in the series, so all I can say (besides “Need to buy a copy or two for the library,” anyway) is, check out the price. $22.99!
Hi. My name is Paula Yoo. I am a 15-year-old white suburban punk rocker video game-playing boy trapped in the body of a 30something female Korean American.
That was my politically incorrect joke for many years. I grew up in the ’80s, obsessed with the late ’70s punk and early ’80s New Wave scenes of London, New York, and LA. Today, I own an Xbox 360 instead of an Atari.
But… I was also a teenager ashamed of her Asian heritage. I was born in America and spoke perfect English. My parents were born in Korea and spoke with a slight accent. They loved kimchee. I loved Big Macs. Part of this embarrassment and shame stemmed from being one of very few people of color in a small conservative town in Connecticut. I remember being made of fun – and judged unfairly – because of the color of my skin.
Fortunately, I later attended a more diverse college setting where I learned to embrace my Korean heritage. A lot of my Asian American friends have shared similar ethnic self-hatred and coming-of-cultural-age experiences.
So I lived happily ever after, right?
Not really. What I hadn’t realized was all those years of unfortunate racial self-hatred would still have an effect on my writing.
See, ever since I devoured E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web in the 1st grade, I have always wanted to be a writer. When I finally wrote my own stories, all my characters were white. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that – the greatest privilege about being a writer is that you can write about anything and anyone! My characters ranged from a medically depressed and unhappily married young mother living in New Orleans to a stoner college freshman in love with his roommate’s girlfriend.
These short stories received much praise from my creative writing professors. But they also told me something was missing… where was my voice? There still has to be some truth in fiction – but in my fiction, the truth was nowhere to be found.
Maybe I needed to live life first in order to become a better fiction writer? So I studied the human race through the lens of an objective journalist for the next nine years. I then received a prestigious fellowship to study creative writing at an MFA program. Upon graduation, ironically, I became a TV drama screenwriter instead of a novelist because I had a gift for writing dialogue… and being a TV junkie didn’t hurt! I wrote everything from NBC’s Emmy-award winning political drama “THE WEST WING” to FOX’s cult sci-fi series “TRU CALLING.” I was adept at imitating other people’s voices – I could easily capture and mimic the show creator’s writing style and voice, which is a necessary skill required for TV writers.
But I still didn’t have my own voice!
In April 2004, several writers and I were laid off from a soon-to-be-cancelled TV series thanks to low ratings. I had two choices - wallow in unemployed self-pity or take advantage of the rare free time and write.
So on May 1, 2004, I sat down in front of my laptop and wrote: “You’ve heard the joke, right? Why is a viola better than a violin? It burns longer.” I wrote until 4 a.m. about a violin audition I had in high school. (I studied the violin growing up and am still an active professional freelance musician today.)
I couldn’t stop. I wrote EVERY SINGLE DAY for 16 hours straight. I’d stumble into bed around dawn and wake up around 11 a.m. and just plop myself down in front of my laptop and start typing.
This continued for five weeks. During the first week of June, sometime around dawn, I wrote the final sentence at the bottom of page 300 of my completed novel and burst into tears.
I realized this was the first time I had ever written anything featuring a Korean American female character. GOOD ENOUGH’s main character, Patti Yoon, was ME. Okay, so she’s not 100 percent me – I’m nowhere nearly as smart as Patti and she can play circles around me on her violin! And who knew Patti’s Korean immigrant parents would play such a huge role in the novel? I had always scoffed at the “Joy Luck Club” phenomenon of Asian American authors writing these weepy tragic novels about how they suffered racism in intolerant small all-white towns and how their parents suffered even worse tragedies in fill-in-blank-Asian-country-here.
All joking aside, of course I respect these novels! We need these experiences, unique perspectives, and multicultural voices to keep our literature alive and vital. But I never thought I would write an “Asian American” novel. I thought my Great American novel would be about a migrant family of farm workers escaping the dustbowl of Oklahoma to pick grapes in California… oh wait. Sorry. Steinbeck already wrote that! 
Clearly GOOD ENOUGH was inspired by my life growing up as a geeky violin-playing outcast who didn’t go to Prom. But instead of focusing on teen angst, I had found myself laughing at my own memories and realizing how funny high school really was. So that’s what I ended up writing. I never approached the book with a multicultural mission. I never intended this to be a novel preaching about the stereotypes of the Asian American model minority myth or about the cultural difficulty in communicating with immigrant parents.
But at the same time, my novel is not solely about cultural issues. In the end, it’s just a story about a girl named Patti. She could be any ethnicity/race. The book’s universal theme is… what makes us happy? Who can’t relate to that?
As for my happily-ever-after ending? I finished the revisions and submitted my novel to my literary agent. Three weeks later, he sold it to HARPERCOLLINS. And today, February 5, 2008, my YA novel GOOD ENOUGH debuts in bookstores across the country.
And sure, sometimes I still feel like a 15-year-old white suburban punk rocker video game-playing boy. One day I will write a novel about that mischievous boy and the troublesome scrapes he finds himself in!
But you know what? I had to write GOOD ENOUGH first. By discovering the truth hidden inside myself and unlocking my own authentic voice, I became a better writer. Now I can truly explore the lives of other characters with confidence and compassion. They say, “Write what you know.” I say, “Figure out what you know first before you start writing.” And then you can write about anyone… and anything. Trust me – once you find your own voice, there’s a whole world out there, just waiting for you to discover it!
About Paula: Okay, I admit it. Like Patti Yoon, I play the violin. Yes, I was concertmaster of my Connecticut All-State High School Orchestra. And I snuck out occasionally to see a couple of cool bands (sorry, Mom & Dad). But this novel is a work of fiction. Although I too was forced to undergo a really bad home perm, it burned my left ear, not my right. And there was a cute guy in my homeroom who played rock guitar and asked me to work on a few songs with him, but his name was not Ben Wheeler. When I’m not writing novels that allegedly have nothing to do with my personal life, I also write TV scripts. I was born in Virginia and grew up in Connecticut. I’ve also lived in Seoul, Korea; New York; Seattle; and Detroit. I now live in Los Angeles with my husband, who plays guitar—and yes, we jam occasionally, just like Patti and Ben.
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A few weeks ago, Paula left a comment on my post comparing the description of her brand new (out today!) book Good Enough with She’s So Money by Cherry Cheva. I found her comments interesting and thought-provoking, especially when she said, “this is the first piece of fiction I have ever written where the character was Korean American.” I asked if she’d like to write a guest post for us, and she agreed. Thanks, Paula, for taking the time to share this with us.
Geek High by Piper Banks
Miranda’s romance writer mother is going to England to do research, leaving Miranda behind with her father, whom she’s had little contact with since her parents divorced, and a stepmother and stepsister she does not get along with. Plus, not only is Miranda blackmailed into organizing her brainy school’s unpopular winter dance, her crush appears to be falling for her stepsister, Hannah. But Hannah does have a cute male friend who just may be interested in Miranda…
I’m not sure why, but for some reason I thought this was going to be a very lightweight, insubstantial read. It wasn’t, not as much as I was expecting, at any rate. But it was still the perfect post-Cybils read—entertaining, well-written, and, thank god, no one died or was abused.
The Sweet Far Thing by Libba Bray
I won’t say much about this one because I’m afraid of giving away too much of the story. (But if you want to talk, particularly about the denouement, I am so up for a chat about it.) And really, where hasn’t this been reviewed? I think it was even the lead book review in People a couple of weeks ago, if I remember correctly. I will say that there was enough to the story to satisfy me, and I absolutely love the last line of the book.
Also, I came up with a playlist for Gemma last year, around the time the book’s publication was first announced. But after reading the book, it changed significantly, so here’s what is currently on my TSFT playlist:
I realize I’m totally breaking a playlist rule with two Iron & Wine songs on the same playlist but I was unable to pick just one, and I think the sequence of “Icebound Stream,” “Faded from the Winter,” and “Misery and Mountains, Arrows and Bows” works perfectly, so there you go.
TSFT was reviewed by: Angieville, Becky, Bookshelves of Doom, Oops…Wrong Cookie, among others.
Reading Resolutions update:
Tea: The Drink that Changed the World by Laura C. Martin was the non-fiction book I read in January. Let’s see, I like tea, I like microhistories… Is it any surprise I picked this up? But as fascinating as I found it, it was too brief for my tastes, so I plan on reading The Story of Tea and Liquid Jade, as well.
And, as mentioned earlier, the translated book I read was The Redbreast by Jo Nesbø, translated by Don Bartlett. In 1999, a Norwegian detective makes a potentially embarrassing mistake. Transferred to a new department and position, he comes across a report that piques his interest. Full of twists that never feel forced, this book had me totally hooked, especially after the first World War II scene. There were occasional mentions of events that I am sure occurred in the previous (not yet released in the US) book, which once again really makes me wish publishers would bring these series over *in order*, like it appears Vertical is doing with Shinjuku Shark. (February’s rapidly becoming translated-from-Japanese month for me, since I’ve already got five such novels checked out/on hold.)
Carlos is a fifteen year old virgin who feels the pressure to get laid after his three best friends score. He wants to hook up with Roxy the prettiest girl in school, but bombs every-time they meet. After watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Carlos asks Sal a gay guy at his school to make him over and give him girl lessons. Sal agrees to help Carlos on two conditions 1.) Carlos pays him. 2.) Carlos helps him start a Gay Straight Alliance. Carlos agrees to the terms not realizing that Sal will change more than his appearance, but his whole outlook on life. Sanchez does a great of job of teaching acceptance through humor and developing characters that are believable.
The SpellBook of Listen Taylor by Jaclyn Moriarty
First of all I was confused as to whether this book should’ve been an Adult novel rather than YA. Then I found out my suspicions were right after reading a NY times review of the book. Most of the story revolves around the adult characters in the book, and there is only one main teen character Listen Taylor. Also the intertwining plot-lines revolve mainly around the infidelity between the adults. At first I was intrigued with the plotline which started off with Listen finding a spell book containing quirky spells, like how to make someone take a taxi or eat chocolate cake. However, I often found myself lost and bored with the senseless meandering between the 4 main characters. I thought the story would get more interesting, but for me it didn’t, and so I stopped midway through the book.
Vegan with a Vengeanceby Isa Chandra Moskowitz
I think most non-vegetarians have a preconceived notion that vegetarian cuisine mainly consists of granola and grass, but this is not the case when it comes to Vegan with a Vengeance. This book transforms everyday foods like pancakes, eggs, and bacon into vegalicious delights. Moskowitz who hosts a cooking show via the internet has a knack for making vegan cooking simple, cheap, and accessible. I am no domestic goddess so this book was perfect for me, and some of the recipes were so easy that even kids could do it. In addition, the ingredients were easy to find and I could find them in any supermarket. I highly recommend this book if you’re considering becoming a vegetarian or just want to eat more healthy. Some of my favorite recipes included the Lemon Cupcakes, Faux Hostess Cupcakes, and Corn Chowder. (Pictured below the tasty cupcakes I made!)
After reading Justina Chen Headley’s Girl Overboard, I was finally able to articulate exactly what my problem with most YA books involving Asian-American protagonists is. Too often, it seems like the protagonist’s race/ethnicity/culture matters only when it’s a problem.
The majority of books about Asian-Americans that I’ve read (or tried to read) seemed to me primarily about the protagonist’s identity as an Asian-American instead of being about a person trying to figure out they really are, with their ethnicity as part of their identity. I mean, they were books about people who were discriminated against, ashamed of their ethnicity and culture, or dealing with immigrant parents. They were books about characters who were Asian-American first, not books about a rich girl or a smart girl or girl in love, a girl who’s not struggling with her ethnicity but more universal concerns. Which is probably why I seem to be in the minority of bloggers who didn’t love Headley’s debut novel, Nothing but the Truth (and a Few White Lies). Headley’s second novel has just been published, and while I didn’t love Girl Overboard either, I did really like it. And I’m sure this is largely because Syrah Cheng’s problems don’t stem from the fact that she’s Chinese-American, but because her father is a billionaire.
This does not mean culture is ignored, because it definitely isn’t. The fact that Syrah’s family is Chinese is an important part of the story and Headley doesn’t skimp on cultural details. But I can easily imagine a book about a rich white girl dealing with the same problems—powerful and neglectful parents, hateful half-siblings, a male best friend she might have more than friendly feelings for but is in danger losing anyway despite not doing anything about those feelings, and a dream of making a name for herself as more than just Rich Guy’s daughter. And to me, the essence of Girl Overboard has nothing to do with Syrah’s ethnicity. While their Chinese heritage is an intrinsic part of Syrah and her family, it’s not a problem she has to overcome. Girl Overboard is a story about a girl finding herself and an inner strength she never knew was there, and discovering that she’s not as alone as she thought. The problems with her parents aren’t your stereotypical Asian parent problems, but your more stereotypical rich parent problems. It just so happens that those parents happen to be Chinese.
So there I was, pleased that I was finally able to put my finger on what bothered me so much about other books when I read a book with a hapa protagonist about whom you could argue race was the cause of her problems. Or at least the cause of tension. And I ended up enjoying that book, too.
In Sherri L. Smith’s Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet, Ana Shen’s grandparents don’t get along too well. Her Chinese-American father’s parents and African-American mother’s parents will eat together. Just don’t ask them to cook together. But when Ana’s best friend spontaneously invites Ana’s crush, (the Japanese-American!) Jamie Tabata, to dinner at Ana’s house, disaster looms. Both her grandmothers are accomplished cooks, so of course both must prepare dishes for dinner. After all, it’s not every day that you celebrate your graduation from eighth grade. Ana loves both her grandmothers, but the competition between them, especially on her Nai Nai’s (Chinese grandmother) side, makes things difficult for the entire family.
Besides the gentle humor, and the fact that food is a major part of the book, I think what made Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet work for me is that the tension is not so much within Ana, but 1) between her grandmothers, and 2) between Jamie Tabata’s father and, well, basically Ana’s entire family. There was a moment where Smith had me worried about the direction of the story, but it quickly passed and I was very relieved that my fears weren’t realized.
Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet takes place over the course of one afternoon, so the scope of the story is not as large as that of Girl Overboard. I think this is the main reason I liked Girl Overboard more than Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet, but as different as the two books are, I still enjoyed and would recommend them both.
I suppose what I said at the beginning, that Asian-American protagonists’ race/ethnicity/culture seeming to matter only when it’s a problem, is still true, at least among books I’ve tried to read in the past. But I’m glad that I found a book where this is not the case, as well as a book I enjoyed, arguably despite this. I’ve got three more books I’m looking forward to reading with Asian-American protagonists (all about girls. Where are the books with Asian-American guys as protagonists?), so I really hope this trend of me being able to actually finish and enjoy these books continues.
If you’re looking for an actual review of Girl Overboard, head on over to Jen Robinson’s Book Page, Dear Author, or Bookshelves of Doom. Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet has been reviewed by Little Willow.
