UPDATED 1/3/2018: Happy 2018, everyone! I don’t know about you, but 2017 was not one of my finest years. When I counted down the seconds on New Year’s Eve, it was with relief that the year… More
For years, I’ve hidden behind the pseudonym of Jade M. Wong and the profile picture of an anime girl. I’ll still be using the pseudonym, but I’m ready to stop hiding.
To my blogging friends, my readers, and the whole wide world, are you listening? Can you see me? I’m re-introducing myself. Continue reading “Re-Introducing Me”
More Shiny Things! Michael over at The Ink Owl has pointed the Black Cat Blue Sea award towards my general direction, along with three writing-centric questions, because you can’t have a blogging award without some questions apparently.
Is this Mic on? Testing, one, two? Alright, let’s do this.
1) What are your goals for writing? Where do you want it to go?
To work my butt off to become the next J. K. Rowling. I don’t think I’m dreaming too big, do you? Continue reading “Big Dreams (aka The Black Cat Blue Sea Award)”
This is a fairy tale…
A love story between a strong boy tree in a forest and an honest and innocent girl tree.
The two trees stood next to each other at the edge of the forest, but no matter how much they loved each other, they couldn’t touch one another.
Sometimes, the wind would blow and their branches would touch, but the girl tree was still really sad.
You thought you could kill me?
With your words as sharp as knives
And the venom dripping from your lies,
Well I’m sorry to disappoint,
But I won’t roll over and die.
© Jade M. Wong 2017 Continue reading “[Poetry] Bully”
“What’s up with the chair?” Jacob Fuller eyed the steel blue chair, a stark contrast to the plush armchairs positioned sporadically in his older brother’s bookstore.
“It’s different,” Jeff Fuller said, rubbing down the chair gently with a rag.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Jacob rolled his eyes. “But why is it different? Don’t these chairs usually come in a set or something?” Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Different”
I wish you held my hand
Because it was held out for you,
And I wish you’d let me understand
That you were hurting too.
I wish I read more closely
All the clues you left behind,
And if you knew how you have helped me,
Could I have helped you too in kind?
But most of all, I wish your soul
Broken and cracked it was with pain,
Is resting now, at peace and whole
And that you never hurt again.
© Jade M. Wong 2017 Continue reading “[Poetry] I Wish…”
We live in a world where writing ages like wine. Sometimes it takes years or even centuries to mature.
But if history has shown us one thing, it is the merit of writers who spoke the language of the people. Who have taken poetry out of the shadows and into the light.
Writers and poets who are ahead of their time.
They are the ones whose works will endure.
—Lang Leav, Writers and Poets—
I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got three words to describe summer in New York this year: Hot, Humid, Hell. And whatever temperature it is in the city, it’s always at least 15 degrees hotter underground on the subway platforms. Am I sweating? Am I melting? Am I secretly the Wicked Witch of the West?
Thankfully, my inner fangirl has plenty of distractions this summer:
Remember this post when I was screaming incoherently over Wonderwoman’s brief appearance in Batman v. Superman? Guys, her movie was SO GOOD. The best friend and I walked out of the movie theater feeling so pumped, we were swearing up and down that we could take on any poor soul who dared to challenge us. That evening, we were five-feet-tall BADASSES, OKAY? Continue reading “Wonderwomen, Nostalgia, & Game of Thrones”
“I sense colors in you. They’re strong and beautiful…and sad. I wondered what your colors were for a long time. They’re the colors of the sunset…the blazing shades of a sunset that burn just before the darkness sets in.”
—Fuyumi Soryo, MARS—
We’re traveling to Japan this week for our Writer’s Quote Wednesday. About a decade ago, I started reading manga, which is a type of Japanese graphic novel. One of the first manga series I ever picked up was titled MARS, and I devoured this love story between a shy art student and a rebellious motorcycle racer. Before I knew it, I was falling in love, having my heart broken, and crying tears—both of sadness and of joy—when I flipped the last page. I left a piece of my heart between the pages of this story and I think in return, MARS made a home in that missing piece.
On the bathroom floor,
Glass shard in hand,
It catches the light,
Is this the end?
And the tears, they
Bounce off the glass.
Shutting my eyes, I’ll
Just make this fast. Continue reading “[Poetry] The Choice”