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disorientedblog-archive · 5 years

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Knowing Your Literary History—Interview with Shawn Wong on Asian-American Literature

by Kevin Mei

Shawn Wong is a writer and Professor of English at the University of Washington. He has published two novels, Homebase (1979) and American Knees (1995), and is the editor of many anthologies of Asian-American literature, including Aiiieeeee! An Anthology of Asian-American Writers, which helped establish the field. He has been critical to the rise of Asian-American literature in its writing, teaching, and discussion. When Homebase was first published in 1979, it was the only Chinese-American novel in print in America. As a scholar, Shawn Wong pioneered Asian-American studies and co-organized the first Asian-American writer's conference. In this interview, we discuss these beginnings, the state of Asian-American literature now, as well as his works and teaching.

Kevin Mei: Thanks for spending time to talk with me! To start, could you tell me about your teaching career?

Shawn Wong: I've been at the University of Washington for 35 years, but I started teaching 47 years ago in 1972 in Mills College in Oakland while I was still in grad school in San Francisco State College. Mills Colelge, a private women's college, had just started an ethnic studies department and I had just graduated from Berkeley with my Bachelor's in English in 1971. There was a job opening to teach an ethnic studies course. Most of the professors didn't have graduate degrees because ethnic studies was still new. I had no teaching experience, no publications, and no graduate degree. I was hired for a class on Asian-American literature and I don't think they even knew what that was. At the time, the only other Asian-American literature class taught in the country was by Jeff Chan at San Francisco State College, so I taught the second Asian-American literature class in the US. The co-editors of Aiiieeeee! and I had the manuscript ready and we were looking for a publisher. I used the manuscript as lecture notes for class.

KM: How did you explain what Asian-American literature was back in your interview?

SW: I tried to be as vague and simple as possible. I told them it was American literature. All the writers that would be taught would be born in America or came at a young age and had written in English. I had to emphasize that the literature was not in translation. I said that there were many parallels to African-American literature, which people knew about, but people didn't know about the literary history of Asian-American writers.

KM: How do you define the genre of Asian-American literature? Are there subject matters or themes that are broadly found? And how has the definition changed over time?

SW: The initial definition of "Asian-American" was quite a political and racial term. And included mainly Chinese-, Japanese-, and Filipino-Americans, who were featured in the first anthology of Aiiieeeee! in the early 1970s. There wasn't a lot of published work prior to 1970. Many of the other Asian-American communities today hadn't developed yet. Vietnamese-American writing was post-1975. We expanded the definition of what Asian-American writing was in the second edition of Aiiieeeee! to include Korean-American, Vietnamese-American, and other Asian-American writers who started publishing in the 70s, 80s, and on. As a teacher, I have expanded that definition in my literature classes to include Asian writers who write in English living in the Pacific Rim, such as in Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, and Canada. As well as Asian-British writers like Timothy Mo. Asian-American literature generally focuses on family and identity and race. The differences are in the cultural foundations of the work. English writers in the Pacific Rim have colonial experience in their background. It's interesting to teach colonial history in writing. Currently, the definition of Asian-American literature has become much broader and inclusive, taking in new kinds of Asian-American writing, where the relation isn't obvious. The old model for Asian-American writing is grandma arriving in America or a Chinatown story or a Japanese-American in concentration camp story. Now we have a whole host of Asian-American writers creating science fiction and speculative fiction.

KM: What do you mean when you said Asian-American was a "political and racial" term?

SW: In the early 70s and late 60s, what we wrote was highly political. Civil rights movements were happening. Vietnam war was on. There was a battle for ethnic studies. As young writers, we were all caught up in that as well and our writing reflected it. The intro to Aiiieeeee! has that political tone because that's the period in which I was raised. One of the best parts of Asian-American studies now is that there's a substantial body of scholarship on Asian-Americans. There are literary scholars and literary criticism. I'm entirely self-taught. It's interesting that I started teaching a course that I never learned in college, teaching a subject I had to teach myself. Today, a modern Asian-American literature professor is highly trained and actually had Asian-American literature professors train them. It was said in the intro of Aiiieeeee! that one measure of healthy literature is the health of its critics. We certainly have that now, a large community of Asian-American literary scholars that help legitimize the literature. No one questions anymore that Asian-American literature is not American literature. When I first started teaching at Mills, the English department would not give English majors credit for taking my class. They didn't regard it as legitimate literature. I just saw an ad the other day that Harvard, Stanford, and Princeton are looking for Asian-American literature professors. It's 2019, people, where have you been? They are supposed to be the academic leaders, but they're only now getting into this, thinking maybe we need Asian-American literature.

KM: Do authors have to be Asian-American to write Asian-American literature? Do the characters have to be Asian-American? Some books I am thinking about are Hanya Yanagihara's A Little Life, David Guterson's Snow Falling on Cedars, and Celeste Ng's Little Fires Everywhere.

SW: Depends on the background of the writer. You mentioned Snow Falling on Cedars. David Guterson is a good friend of mine. He wrote a good story and did a lot of research on Japanese Americans living on Bainbridge Island, Washington, and it's a well-known history in this particular area. Not being the ethnicity you are writing about is traditional in minority literature. If it's a white writer who writes a book about Vietnamese people, but speaks Vietnamese and grew up in the community and has a linguistic-cultural attachment to the community, I think that's fine. What I don't think is right is to assume an Asian-American pseudonym and write Asian-American literature. I think that's patently dishonest and there's no reason to do so. It's basically writing in yellowface.

KM: And what about books written by Asian-Americans that don't feature Asian-American characters—would you consider those part of Asian-American literature?

SW: David Wong Louie published stories where the main characters are not identified as Asian but the themes are about marginalization and displacement, such that someone who is Asian-American would read the stories and understand those themes are related to identity. It's a tactic in being an Asian-American writer to not make your main character Asian-American, but to have readers try to understand and figure out where that identity is thematically addressed, rather than labelled or visually apparent. On the other hand, you can just write Asian characters. A TV commercial, for example, could star an Asian actor, speaking perfect English, but the fact of them being Asian has nothing to do with the commercial. They could be eating cereal. I don't need Asian music in the background or for the actor to be wearing culturally relevant costumes; they can be representing themselves as an American family. I know when I see those kinds of images on TV, I think to myself, oh that's good, we don't always have to be martial artists or houseboys.

KM: What are some books you are reading or some of your favorite books? Or important books you think should be read?

SW: I'm currently reading Ocean Vuong's On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and Ted Chiang's Exhalation. Ted Chiang is a science-fiction writer who lives in the Seattle area and his work is interesting and doesn't have Asian-American characters. One of his short stories, which was about communication and about language, was adapted into the movie Arrival. I'm interested in what comes out of the mind of an Asian-American writer these days and where Asian-American writing is going. We all read each other's work. Viet Thahn Nyugen talks about reading David Wong Louie. Ocean Vuong thanks all Asian-American writers who came before him. As for the past, No-No Boy by John Okada, Eat a Bowl of Tea by Louis Chu, Seventeen Syllables and Other Stories by Hisaye Yamamoto, and Toshio Mori were all part of the older generation. If you're an Asian-American writer and you haven't read the generations before you, you're not doing your homework. Young African-American writers read Toni Morrison, Langston Hughes, James Baldwin. It's important to know your own literary history in order to call yourself a part of it.

KM: Could you speak on compiling Aiiieeeee! An Anthology of Asian-American Writers?

SW: Yes. When we edited our first anthology of Asian-American writing, we knew of 14 books at the time. Only one of them was still in print: No-No Boy. All the others were out of print, neglected or ignored. Some of their authors, Toshio Mori, Hisaye Yamamoto, and Wakako Yamauchi would later become well-known. It took a lot of effort to find their writing and we resorted to odd ways. I remember for Toshio Mori, we found a review of his book, Yokohama, California, that was dated 1949. The newspaper review said he lived in San Leandro, California. Frank Chin and I looked through the phone books, found Toshio Mori was still there, called his number, and asked "Is this Toshio Mori?" He said "yes..." We asked, "Did you write Yokohama, California?" There was a long pause. Then he said, "yes.........." And then we introduced ourselves: "We're young Asian-American writers and we loved the book about Japanese-Americans living in the East Bay." And we asked if we could come over and meet him. And he said "Uhh.... okay...." He wasn't quite sure, but agreed to be interviewed and we went over to his house and asked him what it was like to be a writer. We hadn't published anything ourselves and were so excited to meet him. It turned out, and this was 1971, that since 1949, in the 22 years since the publication of his book, no one, no one had ever called him and went over to talk to him about his book. Not one person. And we were the first to arrive. Yokohama, California was the first published work of fiction by a Japanese-American writer. He had so much to tell us that we went back to his house two days in a row after that first one and brought our tape recorder and he had four books on his bookshelf that were unpublished at the time. It became our mission to rediscover these lost books of Asian-American literature. In the 1970s, we were obviously excited to meet new writers, but we also knew we were responsible for rediscovering and reviving the Asian-American writers who came before us who were primarily Chinese, Japanese, and Filipino and lived through the 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s.

KM: Could you tell me about the process of looking for Asian-American literature back in the 1960's and 70's? What were some methods you used to find these books and authors?

SW: Berkeley had lots of used bookstores. No-No Boy was 50 cents at a used bookstore. We also started asking people we met if they could remember other writers. Toshio Mori said there's this person called Hisaye Yamamoto in Los Angeles and we looked her up. She had written during her concentration camp years. She told us to find Wakako Yamauchi and we'd talk to her. Luckily, we recorded these interviews, which have been collected by UC Berkeley, which has digitalized them and released them to the public, so everyone can hear our original conversations and the strange questions we asked. It's all online. We interviewed people that weren't writers as well. Asian actors in Hollywood, like George Takei. Only thing he had done at the time was Star Trek in 1970. Also white actors who played Asians, like Charlie Chan. We started an organization called Combined Asian-American Resources Project—and our files are archived at Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley.

Note: The University of Washington Press is publishing a new edition of Aiiieeeee! to commemorate its 45th anniversary in November 2019. There will be a website for the archival material compiled in the 1970s with the publication of the anthology, so literary researchers can look at how the book was put together.

KM: What happened to many of the writers you rediscovered?

SW: A lot of them had stopped writing. They weren't getting published and were getting ignored. After being discovered by the anthology, some started writing again. All of Toshio Mori's unpublished manuscripts were eventually published. Wakako Yamauchi took her short story, "And the Soul Shall Dance," and converted it into a play, which was performed by East West Players in LA and was very popular. The anthology was published in 1974. In 1975, we organized an Asian-American Writer's Conference at the Oakland Museum and invited every Asian-American writer we could think of, even unpublished, young people and old, and the most amazing thing happened: everybody came. Everybody came. Every Asian-American writer who had published anything came. The older generation, such as Bienvenido Santos, the younger generation. We even invited writers whose work we didn't really like, such as Jade Snow Wong's Fifth Chinese Daughter, and gave them a platform because it was important to recognize their work and reward them, not start a debate. The point was to inspire a younger generation who were interested in how these writers became writers. The conference was held again the following year in Seattle and the year after in Hawaii. A few weeks ago, the Asian-American Literature Festival was held in D.C by the Smithsonian. The irony is no one had invited the editors of Aiiieeeee!, but that's okay.

KM: I understand that Aiiieeeee! started a controversial but important debate, by trying to define what Asian-American literature should be like. Why didn't you like certain books of the time, like Fifth Chinese Daughter?

SW: When a writer looks at another writer's book, you try to see what it is they are trying to understand. When you read No-No Boy, you can tell John Okada is trying to understand the concentration camps, even though it is not about the camps. He is trying to understand the camp experience and what came after, the sense of displacement and alienation. Toshio Mori is trying to understand the pre-WWII Japanese-American, a community that is completely gone after the camps. Lewis Chu was trying to understand the fading bachelor society of Chinatown. The government had created a Chinese bachelor society that was disappearing and dying off. Fifth Chinese Daughter is a memoir. We were more focused on creative works like fiction and poetry. Jade Snow Wong's book was important because it was one of the first books written by a Chinese-American author and quite popular. It's a story about her struggles. Basically, a book that showed the struggles of an ABC girl with a traditional upbringing in Chinatown, with a strict father, who didn't believe girls should go to college, but she defies her father and goes to Mills College. She becomes a successful businesswoman, artist, and ceramist.

KM: Why did you decide to become a writer?

SW: I remember thinking at 19, what do I really want to be? In truth, I was a premed student like most good Asian-American kids. Premeds have to major in something, so I majored in English. And I remember at 19, I decided I really wanted to be a novelist and I thought, well, I should try that out first. Creative writing graduate school is only 2 years long, let's see how that works out. If it doesn't, I can still apply to med school, which might like me better because of the creative degree. In 1969, when I decided I wanted to be a novelist, I was the only Asian-American novelist I knew in the world. No teacher had ever mentioned one or assigned a book by one. I had no classmates who were Asian-American and trying to be a writer. I didn't even know any unpublished Asian-American writers. 1100 English majors, and I was the only Asian in the entire department. Berkeley back then was a different place than now. I got in through the Educational Opportunity Program for underrepresented minorities, which gave me a scholarship to alleviate the underrepresentation of Asians. The only Asians there were like me, middle-class Chinese- or Japanese-Americans. Now 50% of Berkeley is Asian. In the late 60s, Asians were 6% of the student population. If you go on a modern campus like here at the University of Washington or UC Berkeley today, there might be 15 different Asian ethnic groups on campus and a lot of Asian international students too.. I went to San Francisco State College, where I was lucky to have as a mentor Kay Boyle, who basically made me a writer. She taught me in an Old World master–apprentice style. She was the master. I was the apprentice. After I graduated, she continued to be my mentor until she died in the 90s. I lived in her house. She had a large Victorian mansion in Ashbury. She lived in a separate apartment on the second floor and rented out the rest of her house. As a professor now, I find it appalling to have a student living in your house. That'd be the last thing I want. In the Old World, the apprentice lived with the master to learn his craft. It was a great opportunity. Kay Boyle was a young writer in France in her 20s so she knew Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce, and what I learned from her was not only how to be a writer, but how to live my life as a writer. I remember coming home one day, putting my books down on the table, and sorting mail for various people in the house. Kay saw I had put Dubliners down and said, "Ohh, you're reading Jim's book, how do you like it? I knew Jim. His old letters are down in the basement, feel free to go and read them." Samuel Beckett and William Carlos Williams were all friends of her. I was living in a literary household, became involved in literary conversations all the time. Because of her, I knew then I was going to become a writer. I met other people at the time too. The English major at Berkeley was very conservative—only included British literature. I took a whole year of American literature and it didn't count. Only a classic education in dead male British writers. When I came out of college, I was hungry to read writers who are actually alive and writers of color. Luckily, I lived in San Francisco, and even though I was a young undergrad in 1969, I was taken in by African-American writers such as Ishmael Reed, Alex Haley, who wrote Roots, and Al Young, who basically included me as part of their group, invited me to read my work, even though I was a terrible poet, and they never considered me a student, they considered me a writer, and gave me the confidence to continue to write. I met Native American writer Leslie Silk before either one of us had published a book and we wrote letters and talked about writing we were working on. After my undergrad years, my literary world was made up of multi-ethnic contemporary literature that was exciting. A lot of writers 10-12 years older than me were giving me access to that world. I don't think I'd be a writer without people like that.

KM: Your two novels, Homebase and American Knees are so different in tone, style, and content. I loved American Knees because the characters are so diverse in life experience and viewpoint. The main character Raymond is an ethnic studies professor who insists on educating his girlfriend Aurora on being "woke" about Asian issues in contrast to characters like Brenda who only dates white men and chafes at political correctness. Can you talk about the characters in American Knees?

SW: Homebase is a very different novel in the sense that at the time, and when it came out in 1979, it was the only Chinese-American novel in print in America. Knowing that your book is going to be the first Chinese-American novel out, I felt I definitely needed to tell part of the Chinese-American history, to legitimize our presence here, because people don't know that history. By the time you got to American Knees in 1995, there is a corpus of Asian-American literature out there. Readers are more culturally articulate about things in Asia. I was freed up; I didn't have to educate an audience on history. I could move onto topics like media stereotypes. And so, one of the things I did with American Knees, is in some ways like how stand-up comedians talk about race and ethnicity. The first part of their routine is to educate an audience on the cultural standards they're talking about. In the first part of American Knees, I laid out all the terminology I'd be using. In the second part of the novel, I apply all the standards about identity and stereotypes and race and ethnicity on the relationships that occur in the latter half. The lectures that Raymond went on in the first half were no longer needed in the second half. I wrote American Knees using a lot of characters that have never appeared in Asian-American literature. I wanted to write a contemporary story, but there were also no Asian-American comedies, and no romantic comedies. There were never any relationships in Asian-American books, other than difficult relationships with your mother or generational clashes. Everything you read in American Knees was missing in Asian-American literature in the 1990s. There were no characters like Brenda before, even though when we read a character like Brenda, we recognize her, like "oh yeah, I know lots of Brenda's" or "yeah I know lots of white guys who like Asian women." I had a lot of fun writing a character like Brenda because she's a walking contradiction: an Asian-American woman who hates Asian-American men but defends Asian-Americans and says lines like, "We've been married to them for four thousand years, let someone else marry them." It's important for me that people read the truth because Asian-Americans never seem to have relationships or talk about their relationships in media. I also wanted to show that Raymond was wrong and strict categories about race can't survive a relationship. He's not a hero, he makes plenty of mistakes. He doesn't need to lecture others. People come around to understanding who they are.

When I first started teaching at UW, I had a lot of Hawaiian students in my Intro to Asian-American Studies. We discussed the Chinese Exclusion Act, institutional racism, and systemic racism. After class, the Hawaiian students would come to me and say there's no racism in Hawaii. I go, oh no, you are so wrong. Of course there's racism in Hawaii. Have you heard any Portuguese jokes? What do you call the white people in Hawaii? Just because Asians are dominant in that state doesn't mean there's no racism in Hawaii. The entire plantation system was racist and stratified society with Japanese on one level and Filipinos on another. And the students go, ohhh I see what you mean. The idea is not to take what I believe, based on my own experiences, but for them to understand the tools for gaining some clarity about their own experiences. Like, oh I didn't realize so-and-so was being racist to me but now I do. Sometimes, I get these ridiculous emails from readers like, after I read your book, I broke up with my white boyfriend. They began to see their boyfriends were racist. I sometimes imagine there's a group of white ex-boyfriends coming after me. But it's interesting when you open up students' eyes, they are more aware about things like microaggressions, someone saying to you "well, where do you go eat Chinese food?" and not realizing that's racist. I was having lunch with an insurance executive, and he suddenly says to me during lunch (we were talking about the arts community), "So, uhh, how long have you been in this country?" I told him my age, at the time it was 50 or something, and he didn't get the joke, and said, "Oh, no wonder I don't hear an accent in your voice." I didn't even know what to say. We all have those sorts of moments where we go what? Where the hell did that come from? After reading American Knees, the overwhelming reaction of white readers is surprise and they say to me, do Asians really sit around and talk about race and racism? I say, well, yeah, we do. And certain white readers will say to me, well, is that really what you think of me? And I say, well, yeah, sometimes. Why is it a surprise that Asians talk about racism?

KM: Disoriented is a blog that invites everyone's voices and experiences. Do you have advice for people who want to write about their experiences but aren't "writers"?

SW: You have to have a reason to write. You should try to indicate what you are trying to understand, not what you already know. If you're just writing things that you already understand or already know, you're basically just writing facts. What I tell students is to write the truth, not the facts. Always seek the truth in what you're looking for. If there's something that you're struggling with, this is why you become a writer. Let's say there's some trauma in the past. You know you can't change what happened to you in the past, but as a writer, you can control the message. That's when the writer has some power over the message and can make that message resonate with readers, because presumably you're talking about people who want to be read, and not just write for their own therapy. So three things: write what you are trying to understand; truth not facts; you can't change what happened to you in the past, but you can control the message. David Wong Louie who died last year from throat cancer wrote an essay called "Eat, Memory." It's a history of his relationship to food, and also his battle with cancer. He had to make a choice. The doctor said, "Do you want to eat food or do you want to talk. You can't do both." He gave up eating, and that's a really amazing essay that combines all those things I was talking about. You can see that by writing that essay, he's trying to understand or come to terms with something. He can't change the fact that he has cancer, but he can control the message of what that disease is doing to him.

KM: What do you want your students to take away from your classes?

SW: I think the important thing is to give students a sense of their place in history. Before we can go forward as a generation, we have to understand the past or we won't be able to define our future. For example, the current border crisis. What the Trump administration is trying to do is not new. There was a recent protest by Japanese-Americans who wanted people to know that the internment of families at the southern border is very much like the internment of Japanese-Americans. Understanding that racist past is important. It's important that students study the mistakes of the past to frame the discussion properly. And it's important to recognize how certain civil right have come to pass and who the people were who have paved the way.

KM:

Thank you for sharing so much with me!

#United States

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cherryeol04 · 4 years

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Tomorrow, Today

Words: 3k

Summary: You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing with your life. Thankfully, your visited by an angel who helps guide you.

‘You keep pushing me while my eyes are half-covered’

You pulled the earbuds outs as the last Bell of first period rang and you were once more trapped in your study period. You always thought it was strange to have a study period in first period, but it seemed better than the alternative; science, history or worst of all, math. It was a period you could use to catch up on the homework you failed to do the night before and get in a little bit of studying before the quiz you would inevitably have in your third period. That teacher swears that she only gives pop quizzes. But there's nothing ‘pop’ about having a quiz daily at the beginning of the class and most of the material was stuff you hadn't covered yet. She was crazy and you were absolutely sure of it.

Your eyes moved to the front as the teacher stood from his desk. As he rose so did everyone else and you reluctantly joined. Running through the same mundane morning routine that just seemed to suck the life out of you, you were finally allowed to sit back down. With the instructions the same as always “study”, you plug your earbuds in and open up your chemistry textbook, your notebook open and posed, just ready to be written in. You were honestly thankful that music was allowed in the class because utter silence for nearly an hour would just drive you absolutely crazy.

Your fingers flew over the screen of your iPod, unlocking it and pulling up your music. You wanted to make sure it was on repeat of your new, current favorite song. It was by a group called JJ Project, aptly named for the two members that made up this group, Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebum. They had the singing voices of angels and their new single, Tomorrow, Today, was absolutely your favorite song. While many people could probably argue with you (and most likely would, knowing those crazy fans) that they had better songs, even in their fully formed group Got7, you have never heard a better song in your life. Mainly because the lyrics struck something deep within you. Feelings and confusion that you thought only you suffered from.

‘Somebody let me know, Tell me which way to go, Cuz I don’t, don’t, don’t know’

It was your senior year of high school. At the end of the year marked a big transition in your life. You were expected to go to college, find a major that would eventually lead you into your career. A career that would fully support you and whatever family you would have in the future. All the while, also having a social life to go and meet some nice boy and settle down with and eventually marry. Not to mention you were also expected to take care of your parents as they got older in life, since they spent 18 years of their life caring for you. At least you didn’t have siblings, but sometimes you wished you did. Maybe if you did, all the pressures of life wouldn’t be on your shoulders. You could share the responsibilities. Of course you would probably still be the first born and expected to care for them and be their role model. But maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. At least you would have someone to talk to about your fears and worries in life.

Sure you had your parents, but would they really understand? Maybe, but as it was, they see life as a never ending routine. Wake up, study, pass exams, go to college, get a good career, make a lot of money, come home, eat and do it all over again. A never ending cycle like a robot. Up, work, down. Over and over like a mindless zombie and that was honestly a scary future to think about. You had your friends, and yes they were all going through the same things you were going through. Studying, exams, searching for colleges. But your friends somehow still bested you. Two of them were in the top 3% of the school with their scores. Your best friend having tested out of high school a year before due to her high scores on placement exams and was already in college. Another friend in your group could care less because in less than four months, she was going to be married to her high school sweetheart (who was three years older than her). He already had a secure job working with his father, but was going to school to get a degree and climb the corporate ladder. She needed to do absolutely nothing; her life was set.

And then there was you. You struggled day to day to finish your homework. Not because you had a tough life at home, or had to work after school. But because you hated school. You found it not only a waste of time but it was also very challenging for you. You never saw the need to be competitive and strive to be the best. You had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. Of course your parents knew what they wanted you to do with your life. But you wanted to make those choices, you didn’t want them to be made for you. And you didn’t want to make the choices that you thought were right, only to look back and wonder what your life would have been if you chose a different path. Would it be different? Was this the right choice? Should you go this way, or that way?

It was confusing and stress inducing. And the only solace you could seek was within your music. That’s why this song was so meaningful to you. It was like these people were in your head and could hear your struggle. Their song was about this, the struggle of choosing the right path in life without fear and regret that they chose the wrong way to go. So blind as to which was the right path for them, how could they make the right choice or answer the questions that life threw at them when they didn’t even know the answers themselves.

It was like your theme song; your life song. Tomorrow, Today. Where would you be tomorrow? How could you possibly know when you’re still living today? How could you possibly see into the future?

A heavy sigh left you as you laid your head down on the desk, eyes closing. You let your mind wander as you lost yourself in the song. Darkness surrounded you with a warm, welcoming embrace and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into it. A gentle touch and a soft call of your name was pulling you from the embrace. You didn’t want to go, but the voice sounded so sweet, so soft, you couldn’t help but be curious as to who was calling you.

Your eyes opened slowly and they were flooded with light. But not the harsh light of the classroom you had been in. But a soft, natural light, which was strange to you. A soft groan left you as your eyes adjusted to the light for a moment, the large tree overhead finally taking shape and you wondered, where it came from. The sound of birds chirping also caught your attention and you were slowly becoming aware of the fact that you were outside. How and when did that happen? You were just in the classroom...weren’t you?

“Y/N.” You tilt your head back towards the voice and the face of the mysterious person suddenly comes into view. You have seen many handsome men before in your life, but none as handsome as this man. Such fair skin, amazing hair, gorgeous eyes and such plush lips. You swore you’ve seen him before, but you weren’t sure where. You also could swear that this was a dream, because honestly, how did you go from inside a classroom to outside under a tree? But that thought soon dissipated as the male smiled at you, his eyes crinkling as he did so and you thought it was honestly the cutest thing in the world. How could this man go from handsome to adorable in less than five seconds?

“Hey, are you awake? You went to sleep.” Sleep? Yeah, you remember going to sleep. Frowning, you stared at him for a moment before sitting up and looking around. It was an open grassy field with a beautiful view of the city out in the horizon. The sun was shining brightly above, making you feel nice and hot, but the occasional breeze came through to cool you off, making you feel warm and cozy. Turning your body, you realize your head been resting in his lap and judging from the items around you, he had been reading? Maybe this was some sort of picnic? There was a basket on the other side of him. “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, worry suddenly etched on his face.

“I…” you trailed off, eyes once more taking in your surroundings, trying to make sense of all of this confusion. How? When? Where and why? Looking back at him, you let out a soft yet confused laugh. “This is going to sound crazy but I don’t know where I am. Or how I got here. Or who you are.” The words tumbled right out of your mouth and it was like a light bulb was turned on in his mind. There was this strange look of understanding that crossed his features and he nodded slowly. This had to be a dream then. How could someone just seem to know? How could this guy just be so alright with what you said? You assume that you know him and you’re at least friends with him, if not something more. So how could he just be cool with the weird words that just left you? It’s not like you got hit in the head and went unconscious and now you have amnesia. Right?

“I get it.” he said and stood. He carefully placed his book in the basket and picked it up before holding out his hand, smiling once more at you. “Come with me.” he said. You were a little hesitant at first, to just take the hand of this random stranger, who was still so calm and collected about this whole thing! “Y/N, trust me.” Oh yeah, like you were simply going to just trust someone who told you to trust them. But something inside you told you to take his hand. So you did. Grasping it tightly, he pulled you up and just as suddenly as you found yourself in that field with him, your surroundings changed once more. Gone was the sunshine, the cool breeze and beautiful horizon. It was gloomy, overcast and you were standing at the end of a road. Before you were two signs, both arrows to let drivers know they could either go left or right. Two signs, one choice. Which way to go?

“I don’t get it.” you found yourself saying as you turned to stare at the male to your left, but he wasn’t there. Confused, you turned quickly to your right and he wasn’t there either. You turned in a circle, searching for the man that just been there, had just held your hand. But he was nowhere to be seen. You felt fear and panic start to set in. You were in a strange place, alone, with no guide to tell you what to do or how to get back. “Oh my god.” you whispered, hands moving to run through your hair as you exhaled slowly. Your eyes moved back to the signs and you slowly walked towards them. Looking to the left, you saw nothing but an empty road. Looking to the right, you saw the same thing. Two different paths, two different ways to go.

“How do I know which way is the right way?”

“Follow your heart.”

It was a soft voice, but you knew you had heard it before. It sounded exactly like the man that had just been with you. Now he was telling you to follow your heart? Well it was a little hard to do that when your mind kept coming up with scenarios of the worst case situation if you picked the wrong direction. How could you possibly pick and not know about the other way? You felt a soft, warm touch to your shoulder, the same you felt right before you had woken up. It was comforting and it silenced your brain long enough for your heart to take the lead and make your choice. Turning to the right, you stared at the road and nodded. This was the right path.

This was your path. You began walking with more confidence than you had ever felt before in your life. For once, you didn't feel lost. You didn't feel like every choice you made in your life was a mistake. You didn't feel like others were pushing you to make this choice. You made it this time. And it's the choice you were so proud to make.

As you walked down the road the skies grew darker and darker, but not once did you falter in your belief that this was the right choice. You kept walking until all that was around you faded to black and you were once more wrapped in the warm embrace of darkness.

“Y/N!”

Jolting awake, you looked around quickly as your earbuds fell from your ears. You stared up at your friend, her worried eyes scanning your face. “Are you alright? We're gonna be late for art class.” she said

Sitting up slowly, you looked around the familiar classroom and let out a sigh. A dream. It really had been just a dream. “Y/N?”

“Ah yeah. Sorry.” You said quickly and scrambled to grab your stuff and pack it in your bag. Standing, you smiled at her, before covering your mouth to stifle the loud yawn that left you. “Let's go.”

“If you say so, sleeping beauty. Have any good dreams?” she asked as she walked out of class with you.

“I wouldn't call it a good dream. But it as a dream.” You said with a shrug.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“Ah...maybe later? I'm still trying to understand it myself.” You told her with a chuckle. You both made it to class with a few seconds to spare, the late bell ringing just as you both took your seat. After another mundane routine of greeting and instructions, you were left to work on your class project, a portrait of a person that you had yet to start because honestly, you had no idea who to draw. Until now.

Setting up the table easel, you attached the sketch paper and started working. Your hand moved effortlessly, sketching out each smooth and beautiful feature. Losing yourself in your sketch, you're just about done with it when you finally pull back to rest for a moment, your back screaming in relief.

“Wow! So that's who you've been drawing? That's the best sketch of Jinyoung I've ever seen.” your friend said in awe. Jinyoung? You sat there and looked at the sketch and you realized the male in your dream was indeed Jinyoung. This realization suddenly put the whole dream in perspective and you smiled to yourself.

“Follow your heart.” You whispered to yourself and grinned. That's exactly what you were going to do.

~*~Eight Months Later ~*~

For your graduation present, your parents got you tickets to a Got7 concert and a Got7 fanmeeting. They were so proud of you. You had turned around so quickly, getting better grades in school and you finally decided what you wanted to go to school for. While they weren't the biggest supports of an arts school, your national win in the art contest had all but proven to them your talent for drawing.

As you made your way down the table, getting your album signed by each member, you clutched tightly to your 1st place sketch of Jinyoung. It felt like forever and not that you weren't grateful to be able to see all the other members (Got7 was one of your favorite groups after all), you were dying to give this gift that the other members always eyed, wondering if it was theirs.

At last you reached Jinyoung and after the small greeting, you lifted up the drawing, pressed against a hard black cardboard back and laminated so nothing could ruin it. The 1st place ribbon was still attached to it and across the top read ‘Tomorrow, Today’. Jinyoung stared at it for a moment, marveling before accepting it with a gracious smile. Carefully he sat it next to him on the floor, leaning up against the chair so it wouldn't be trampled or stepped on.

“Thank you. It's beautiful.” he said. Simple words but they had you blushing. He would probably never understand how important that drawing was to you or the meaning behind it, but you did and knowing that he now had the source of your motivation and confidence, it made you happy. You were no longer lost and confused. You knew which path was yours and you were going to walk down it with your head held high and you were going to meet any forks in the road with confidence and follow your heart in making your decisions.

You watched as he leaned forward and uncapped his pen and started writing. You thought he was signing, but after a few seconds, his hands started making the large movements that signified his signature before he passed back the album. With a bow, you took it with a smile and started moving down to the last member. Looking down at the album, you read over the words careful.

‘Always follow your heart, Y/N. I'll always be rooting for you. Fighting~’

Brows furrowing, you quickly look back and stared at Jinyoung. He was looking back at you and gave a wink, which only added to the confusion you felt. It had all been a dream…

Right?

#fanfic #fanfiction #got7 #jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #x reader #dream au #slice of life #tomorrow today #verse 2 #jj project #jjp

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addytheheartbreaker · 5 years

Text

"Meet Bezai the Egg"

Name: Bezai Lebedev Cawthorn

Age: 26

Height: 5'9 ft

Weight: 60 kg

Mask singer belong to: Johnny Weir

Friends with: Doll, Dog, Rabbit, Ice Cream, Leopard, Poodle, Lion, Penguin, Bee, Eagle, Alien, Skeleton, Peacock, Ladybug, Purple Peacock.

Appearance: pale white slick side hair, white with gold rings eyes, gold eye-shadow, cheek bones, small beard, white painted nails with gray crack design and a slim but athletic body (figure skating body type).

Clothing style: his fashion design clothing, coats (mainly Russian, Japanese 30's - 50's coat style), fur coats, his egg sunhat, LOTS of bling and jewelly, eccentric or formal suits (Main clothing). Dresses (to his fashion design or Johnny's fashion design), figure skating suits and Johnny's fashion clothing (for formal, party and broadcast occasions).

Fun facts about Bezai:

•the eccentric, narcissistic, flamboyant, stylish and "all eyes on me" Egg man.

•Egg is born a American, Russian and French (his father is American-Russian while his grandfather is French) and he is Japanese ancestry from his mother's side.

•Bezai can speak Russian and French when he was just a child, he taught himself to learn russian then started understanding Japanese when he was 14. He also learned Japanese too when he was 16.

•He is an ally and one of the iconic people of LGBTQ with Leon and Victoria. His sexuality is gay. He is still single.

•Egg is a anime lover since in his early teens. He is a fan of Yuri on Ice and old anime style times. Him and Johnny talk about it on different times.

•Bezai had been keeping his sexuality a secret from public and from Johnny. Johnny has suspected from his behavior after he had found out he had suffered on keeping his sexuality a secret as Johnny was the first person to convinced him to come out and supported him since and today.

•the reason why kept his sexuality a secret is because he had been bullied since childhood.

•as a child, Egg is isolated and trying to fit in to many children and at school. He is an excellent and a honoured student which envied by many students as most boys bullied him. He is also been verbally harassed by boys by calling him homophonic names which is the reason on keeping his sexuality.

•hr started skating in age 15, he is a huge fan of Johnny Weir's skating performance leading him into interesting in skating and fashion.

•he is an egg lover who always eats and cooks egg related dishes. He is an excellent cook and Bezai eats and diet on a healthy lifestyle because of his skating career.

•He is not a fan of fast food because he prefer to eat healthier food. According to Bezai, he considered fast food "a place of wasting your health".

•he owned 4 pets at his mansion and had taking cared properly either himself or his servants. He owned a white stallion, a white snow fox, a Chihuahua and a swan.

•He is a iconic figure skater from Olympic culture, a fashion designer, a model and a interviewer of the Olympian Winter along side Johnny Weir.

•Egg has retired since 2016 due to his injuries gotten worse. But he can still skating properly and begin designing clothing and interview with several Olympian skaters to socialize and teaching/encouraging skaters.

•He had an accident during his skating performance since 2015. He got injured himself both his knee and hips when he is about to do the trick. That accident horrified Johnny concerning his safety.

•He has been pressured so much due to suffered anxiety issues and intense fear of disappointment/failure.

•when he pressured too much, he will 'crack' mentally. He is lucky that he hadn't harmed himself or commit recklessness.

•Bezai's mentor, Johnny is always worried of Bezai's health and his anxiety issues. Fearing the thought of Bezai doing something harmful to himself.

•He had bodyguards and servants to protect, escort and serving him because of his insecurity and needed emergency.

•Egg lived in his own mansion in the middle of a beautiful field, his mansion is a Victorian like castle, a farm for his vegetable harvesting (because of his healthy lifestyle) and his pet horse, a huge gym and a room filled with stuffed animals.

•he is actually a stuffed animal collector, he mainly collect panda, polar bears, snow fox, swans and fluffy and furry stuffed animals.

•Bezai has a soft spot for soft furry fur and he always sleep with a huge egg like bed inside a very soft cushions, pillows and a soft furry blanket. The reason why he is likes anything soft is because he is an Egg. (If you know what I mean)

•the reason why he is sleeping with an egg like bed is because he is afraid of getting caught by dust, germs and caught himself a cold. (If you remember the clues where Egg is inside a big egg container)

•He is a huge fan of Lady Gaga. He had an autograph from his favorite celebrity and he wanted the signature to his most favorite ice skating costume. He even listened to her songs and brought all albums.

•Egg is rocking with heels! He can wear them and dance with it like a real god he is. (Bezai: of course I can rock it, I'm fabulous!)

•He can wear both dresses and suits what ever he likes. If anyone dare to insult or gave him a homophobic insult at him, his bodyguards would murder/assassinated them. He will ignore it and do what ever he wants.

•Egg has a collection of champagne, he only drink it every weekends.

•Bezai and Nicol often compete to each other teasingly as frenemies. Because of the "their chemistry don't mix well" due to Dog's Gothic puck bad boy persona/style and Egg's flamboyant, narcissistic and stylish style didn't mix so well. Bezai often to teasing Nicol by smacking his butt, teasing him into something that makes him embarrassed and bragging for his closeness to Addy while Nicol often to do scare pranks at him (not too much or too far, but didn't do often because of Addy), fake threats, always pulled his egg hat and teased him about his favorite yaoi ships.

•Egg and Ice Cream are partners together before and after the Masked Singer. Because they both food related.

•Egg is really adored to Doll. Addy admired his flamboyance and stylishness (because I have a soft spot to guys with flamboyance and sassy attitude) and all his bling. While Bezai is being impress of Addy's talent, potential on fashion designing, her elegance and Egg literally saw Doll like a model.

•Egg really wanted Doll to become his model because of her beautiful features and body type. However, Doll doesn't wanted to due to my shyness and I had been told that I look like a super model. Bezai convinced me that I am until Nicol caught that attention.

•Bezai becomes Addy's fashionista/fashion designer, her modelling teacher and a good figure to influence her. Nicol proposed him to become Addy's influential to give her better confidence and helping her picking up clothes for her.

•His room when staying at the Masked Singer season 2 mansion, his room is of course Victorian like, pure white with a hint of jewels, ice, crystals and yellow. With his egg bed, fluffy carpet floor, his stuffed animals and mannequins clothing hanging beside his desk of his several designing clothes.

•Egg work out 4 hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to keep his body shape in the same body type.

•he owns two weapons: fork like trident and blades heels/shoes. He knows how to use it and he can fight himself for self defense. Despite he has bodyguards to protect him because of the concerning pressure, he can managed to fight alone or competing someone who challenged him or Egg challenging him.

•Bezai's powers is ice and his fighting style are swan technique style (it is actually flight, he prefer it to be called "Grace style"), agility and balancing (a fox style "skater's style") and some kicking attacks (using his blade heels/shoes)

•Egg is actually a friend to Eagle because they known each other in New York both are interviewers, Peacock since he is a fan to Peacock's performance in Las Vegas, Penguin, Poodle, Alien and Lion together meet each other at the gala every year then Leopard, Bee and Ladybug also met at the gala but the three both commonly have a royal like clothing together.

•Bezai met one of Addy's member from her gang. Narcis the Purple Peacock. Since 4 years ago before the accisent, they first met when Bezai is skating himself at the private skating ring until he notice Narcis's skating first and showing off his skills then the Purple Peacock is offering him a special free drink and complement his professional skating skills.

•the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock even gave him a nickname "ваши милости" ("your Graces" in English).

•Narcis is the one who helped the injured Bezai carrying him out if the ice. Bezai wanted to know who is the mysterious charming man and he also remembered he is actually a Russian man.

•Addy knew it because Narcis told her that he had met the iconic Egg man. He told her not to tell him just yet.

•Egg might have a crush on the mysterious Russian Purple Peacock.

•He CAN'T go out without wearing bling. (Bezai: trust me, I won't go outside the place without wearing my jewelry)

#the masked singer human au #the masked singer #the masked au #mask au #bezai lebedev cawthorn the egg #bezai lebedev cawthorn #bezai #masked singer

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