#theellanorchronicles

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: Of Beautiful Battle Scars and Flawed Utopias

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It is already July. I’m a mixed bag of emotions and thoughts as I reflect on how this year has transpired. I believe 2020 thus far has been a year of heavy trials and tribulations for many all over the globe, and for some the traumas and devastations will linger for years to come. There is a lyric in John Lennon’s Beautiful Boy that “life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” How true that is.

With so much time spent social-distancing at home, one upside is that I’ve been able to catch up on some late-night reading after putting my boys to sleep. I devoured the excellent dystopian Scythe trilogy by Neal Shusterman. It is one of the most original and intriguing stories I’ve read. Though the books are aimed at a young-adult audience, the subject matter is actually quite dark and heavy. It is an easy read, and it leaves you with plenty to mull over. This is what great writing conjures: ideas, questions, epiphanies, and lessons learned. And from this story, a glaring moral lesson can be gleaned: in our quest to attain a perfect world, a Utopia in which humans are immortal and no longer fall sick, a world in which humans no longer have to fight for justice and freedom or strive for progress, a so-called perfect world where we can no longer identify with the tragedies and triumphs of Shakespeare…We’d lose essential parts of our humanity, wouldn’t we?

Once the very things that make up the essence of songs and poetry and novels and films  – turmoil, tragedy, loss, regret –  are somehow eliminated, then what is left? For how do we truly appreciate and treasure love, family, friendship, triumphs, and the sanctity of life in a Utopia where death and loss and tragedy are no longer part of the equation? Scythe cleverly and elegantly asks these questions, and though it is never explicitly told, we are shown (as all great stories do) the answer: though these are not the things we want in life, it is the difficult stuff that gives our life meaning and makes us grow. Think about your favourite, most inspiring stories. Les Misérables. The Taxi Driver (Korean film). The Shawshank Redemption. The Pursuit of Happiness. Schindler’s List. The Book Thief. The Theory of Everything. The Untouchables. These stories are worthy of telling because they celebrate the tenacity of the human spirit: that no matter how crushing life gets, we don’t give up, we survive, we forge on until the light emerges at the end of the tunnel. Because the darkness doesn’t last forever. The sun will rise, the skies will clear. We may stumble, we may cry and scream with anguish and tear our hair out; but then we grit our teeth, hold our head up high, and keep going. And therein lies the great contradiction of the human condition: we hate hardship and tragedy, we try to avoid pain at all costs; but without any of the difficult stuff, aren’t we just empty and stagnant vessels waiting to expire? As M. Scott Peck stated at the beginning of his wonderful book The Road Less Traveled: Life is difficult. So perhaps the least we could ask for is this: let the inevitable turmoil come, but at bearable dosages please.  

A little personal anecdote to show that sometimes, mishaps can be a blessing in disguise: When I was studying for my Masters degree in Australia, I was assigned to intern as a Speech Pathologist at a small country-town hospital. As a city girl, I was not happy about this. Why did I have to drive over eight hours cross-country by myself in my beat-up Volvo with NO air-conditioning in the searing summer heat while my classmates were assigned to nearby hospitals and clinics in the city? “Because you ticked the box that indicated you have wheels,” my supervisor laughed, and I mentally kicked myself. So I accepted my plight and set off for Bundaberg, a small town in the middle of nowhere that’s actually world-famous for its ginger beer and rum. There I was, speeding along the highway in that sky-blue tank of a Volvo with nothing but packed bags and a 2003 Nokia mobile phone (no GPS or smart phones back then!) when the steering wheel started shuddering and the hood started smoking! Images of kidnapping highwaymen and murderous psychopaths flashed across my mind as I slowed the car down and parked at the side of the highway. I waited for over half an hour alone on that huge expanse of road and dry shrubbery before the familiar yellow and blue RACQ truck arrived, and I prayed that the driver wasn’t some lecherous predator. The friendly bearded man fixed up my Volvo and gently reminded me that perhaps it was time to give up my ancient contraption for something like an amiable Toyota or Honda, before waving goodbye and driving off, leaving me deflating with relief as I quickly jumped back into my tank and sped away, thanking God I was alive and kicking. And you know what? Despite my initial reluctance and the rocky-road start, I had one of the best times of my life in Bundaberg.

As I reflect on this year of personal hardships and challenges, I also smile at my victories, some big, some small. Like everyone else, I have battle scars, and I am proud of them. And as Hong Kong, my beloved home, is embroiled in adversity, I want to say this on behalf of all of us who love this glorious city: we shall forge on. The sun will come up. One day, stories will be told of what we overcame. And I shall keep writing.

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
8th July 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: My Two Cents

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“Miss Kathryn, have you finished your third book?”

I often get this question from students and readers who have finished the first two instalments of The Ellanor Chronicles, my fantasy book series. After having hosted a number of creative writing workshops with the English Schools Foundation (ESF) and my private ‘Atomic Da Vincis’ classes, teaching about creative writing feels like a calling that I could do for the rest of my life. And yes, I have indeed been working on my third book, and the manuscript is currently with my wonderful editor. The truth is that writing a book requires a tremendous amount of hard work, and some people, bless them, may think it is as easy as jotting down notes on a piece of shorn paper.

I’ve been racking my brain about what piece of essential advice about creative writing I can impart. My two cents. Something that may seem painfully obvious, but just isn’t really emphasized and deserves mentioning. I mean, these days it’s so easy to find information about creative writing tips online. So what wisdom could I possibly impart to you, dear reader? Most who have taken a creative writing course might remember (or not) the ‘Elements of Fiction’ – Plot, Character, Setting, Point of View, Style, Theme. Use ‘Show Not Tell’, and make sure to use a good range of vocabulary words. Make sure you proofread and use the correct grammar. You know, the usual fare. But at the back of my mind, I knew there was something that just hasn’t been emphasized. An important point that is often glossed over. And out of sheer providence, a few days ago I came across a short video clip featuring Dr Jordan B. Peterson, an acclaimed Canadian clinical psychologist, social commentator, scholar, and author…and possibly one of the most intelligent people I have come across. In his usual conversational but profoundly eloquent way, he was speaking on the topic of writing, and his words so resonated with me that I sat bolt upright and shouted, “That’s it!”

This is what Dr Jordan B. Peterson said in his distinct voice that conveyed his incredulity: ‘“What blows me away at universities is that nobody ever tells students why they should write something. People think it’s because you need the grades. But, no. No. You learn to write because you need to learn to think. Thinking makes you act effectively in the world. Thinking makes you win the battles you undertake. And those could be battles for good things. And if you can think and speak and write, you are absolutely deadly. Nothing can get in your way. So that’s why you learn to write. And I can’t believe people aren’t just told that. It’s the most powerful weapon you can possibly provide someone with.”’

Dr Jordan B. Peterson absolutely nailed it. Learning to write is important because it hones your mind, a blade that needs sharpening. Writing and thinking sharpens those edges and makes you intellectually lethal. When I took a distant creative writing course through Oxford University back in 2009, I’m sure I grew new brain cells from all those writing tasks that made me think, analyze, critique, rewrite, polish. Those few months were one of the happiest times of my life. I not only grew as a writer; I also grew as a person. I learned to see the world through a wider, sharper, more colourful lens. This is that I want to emphasize – good writing requires you to be a good thinker and a good observer of the human condition. You need to be curious about the world and ask questions and figure out right from wrong, truth from false, the sensible from the senseless. If you want to write a good essay, thesis, poem, screenplay, short story or novel, and you want it to stand out and engross readers and make them go, “Wow, I want to keep reading this!” – then you need to think well. If you want people to listen, you have to communicate well. Writing is essentially a form of communication, isn’t it? Good writing requires layer upon layer of planning, critiquing, analyzing, organizing, revising, rewriting, editing. And here’s what I’ve found – writing can be so much hard work, but it can be loads of fun, too.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that good creative writing can change the world. Why do we tell stories? Sure, we want to entertain. But ultimately, it’s because we have something to say. We want to communicate something important. I strongly believe that telling stories is one of the most powerful ways to say something to the world. And so, you have to use those Elements of Fiction:  Plot, Character, Setting, Point of View, Style, Theme – and use them to their full potential.

Let me refer to a particular short story as an example. Many of you may have heard of or read the wonderful children’s books of master storyteller, Roald Dahl. ‘Matilda’, ‘The BFG’, ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ are timeless tales. To this day, Matilda makes me laugh and tear up. I didn’t know that Roald Dahl had written a collection of short stories for adults until I was at university, and boy, did they blow my mind. I didn’t think I could be more impressed by Dahl, but I was in for a surprise. One particular short story has stayed with me: The Landlady. It is a dark and terrifying look at 17-year-old Billy Weaver’s first and last stay at a bed and breakfast. If you haven’t already read it, then you should. It would be thirty minutes well spent.

As a writer, you have to create characters that are multi-dimensional and real, flawed but likeable enough that the reader still roots for them. In ‘The Landlady’, the protagonist is young Billy Weaver who comes across a seemingly harmless landlady. On the surface, she epitomizes the ‘grandma-next-door’ and offers him a room at a big discount at her little bed & breakfast. With the subtlety that comes with a great storyteller, Dahl’s writing style (which involves plenty of dark humor, sarcasm, and suggestive dialogue) masterfully builds up the suspense and dread the reader starts to feel for poor Billy, who is so trusting that you want to shake him by the shoulders and yell at him to open his eyes and see the old woman for what she really is. The setting should press all the readers’ sensory buttons, and this is where the technique ‘Show Not Tell’ comes in – as a writer, we need to show how things unfold in the story through the reader’s sense of smell, touch, sight, hearing, and taste. Roald Dahl masterfully created the setting so that it is easy for the reader to know that the story is set in London just after the Second World War, by the way the buildings look, by the way characters talk and dress, and by the things they eat, and much more. Then the plot is what a good story hinges upon. Planning out the plot is one of the things my students have most difficulty with. It nearly always involves the character facing some sort of dilemma that makes the reader wonder how it’s all going to end. There needs to be a climax, the moment in the story where the protagonist is faced with some problem that the reader wants them to overcome. Some endings resolve happily, and some don’t. Because that’s life, right? Not everything ends well, and good people die everyday, and injustice is around every corner. And as the reader, you start to brace yourself as you notice strange things about the gregarious landlady who doesn’t seem so kindly anymore, and then you get the sense that danger is looming, that there is no doubt poor Billy Weaver is in the clutches of a taxidermy-loving psychopath who so stealthily lured him into her web. And though it isn’t explicitly told, the story ends in a way that makes you realize Billy is doomed to die.

Every good story, whether or not it has a happy ending, conveys a message to the reader. Some like to call it the theme or moral, but however you label it, we can always take something away from a good story. And so as you finish reading The Landlady, perhaps somewhat spooked and shaken, you might think: in life, things are not always what they seem. Looks can deceive. Danger can come in the smallest, sweetest, most innocent-looking packages. And that is the life lesson you can take away with you. Roald Dahl’s dark tale, like many wonderfully written stories, makes you ponder and learn. It may even change your life in some way.

Think about it: writers not only get to create an entire universe with the words they write, but with these very words writers also have the power to change the world. When it’s put that way, writing seems like a pretty darn cool thing to master, huh?

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
24th May 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: Mother’s Day and Calvin the Cockroach

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“Mummy, can you puh-lease tell me one more story? A VERY long one?” It is bedtime, golden and magical, just me and my four year-old boy, closed off from the rest of the world behind a wooden door against which our corgi rests snugly. My furbaby likes being with us at bedtime, not wanting to be excluded because, after all, he did come before the hooman-baby.

I rest my cheek against the pillow and take in my son’s sweet face, still rounded and baby-smooth.  “OK, darling. What story would you like tonight?” I stifle a yawn, for I am feeling sleepy after yet another busy day as a working mummy. 

He grins, his cheek dimpling. “I want a story about a cockroach!”

Well, that wakes me up. I absolutely hate cockroaches. Why can’t he choose some other creature, something less feral and revolting. Perhaps a ladybird? A bee? A house lizard?

Nope, he insists on the cockroach. And since I am a story-teller, I take up the challenge. I smile and roll onto my tummy, just like him. “OK, then give mummy a big kiss,” I demand with mock-petulance. And so he happily obliges, and I breathe in that delicious sweetness that still lingers on his baby-like skin, and I begin. “Once upon a time, there was a very unique cockroach named Calvin who wore a red hat…” And my boy beams and giggles with such sheer joy that my heart is full to bursting, and in that instant I wish that I have magical powers so that I can channel that moment into a pearl that I could plop into a jar full of other pearls that I could one day string up like a necklace. And I would wear it around my neck so that I could forever hold those pearls close to my heart and relive them one by one when he decides he is too old for bedtime stories and no longer wants mummy to put him to bed.

Today is Mother’s Day, and as I write this my heart feels a myriad of things. Happiness. Bittersweetness. Sadness. Compassion. Grief. Hope. Joy. Wonder. Nostalgia. Regret. Gratitude.

I celebrate this day as a mother and a daughter. As a mother, I welcome this day with joy, wonder, and gratitude. I love being a mother and I am thankful to have my boy in my life. As a daughter, I celebrate this day with my mother who suffered a massive stroke last year, and she is no longer the same person. But it’s funny how the stripping away of a person can sometimes strip away walls, too. Before her stroke, so many things were left unsaid. But these days, I tell her everyday that I love her, and she replies, “I love you, too.” She may not remember my birthday anymore, she may forget things that happened two minutes ago, and she may ask the same question over and over again; but what matters most is that she knows she is much loved.

As I write this, I also think about how Mother’s Day isn’t easy for so many women. I remember what that was like: when I found it hard to feel celebratory on this day. There are women waiting for their miracle, the mothers who have lost a child, the mothers who have suffered a pregnancy loss, the mothers who have suffered stillbirth, and those who have lost their mothers or grandmothers. There are also those who were adopted and perhaps don’t have a mother-figure in their lives, or those who are searching for one. There is a big wide world out there filled with people whose lives I can only imagine, whose experiences and plights I may find hard to identify with. So before I throw out the blanket well wishes and yell, “Happy Mother’s Day!” I take a moment to think: this may not be a happy day for everyone, and if it is not, I wish for better and happier days ahead.

Memories connect us to our loved ones, and as a mother I want to make wonderful memories with my son. I want him to remember my quirky tall stories about Calvin the cockroach and other strange tales about giants and ogres and whatnot. I want my boy to remember that his mommy so loved spending time with him, shrouded in that magical blanket called love that may change form over the years, but shall never leave. And perhaps one day, when I am too old and frail to get out of bed, my son can hold my wrinkled hand and tell me stories that I can take away with me.

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
10th May 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: ANIME! How Our Childhood Favourites Shape Us

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“I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.”

― Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Writing this makes me giddy, because it brings back so many happy memories. As Neil Gaiman imparted, it is not really childhood that I miss, but the things that made me happy. My favourite stories were one of those things.

As part of the Chinese diaspora growing up in Australia, I grew up speaking passable and slightly off-key Cantonese, and reading and writing Chinese was, at best, abashedly rudimentary. So when it came to books, I devoured English-language stories like The Baby-Sitter’s Club and Sweet Valley High, and aplenty Roald Dahl, Judy Blume, Christopher Pike, and Paul Jennings. Oh, the nostalgia!

But personally, the childhood stories that have stayed with me the most, the ones that really conjured magic in my inner life, were the ones that I watched on TV. I was a great lover of Cantonese-dubbed Japanese anime which had a wonderful and profound influence on me in my formative years. Yes, I know what the purists are thinking: anime is best watched in Japanese. But I feel like I grew up with those dear TVB voice actors whose excellent, emotion-laden dubbing defined so much of my childhood, that to this day watching anime in Japanese feels weird to me.

As a mother to a four year-old boy, I often find myself breaking into a smile at his round-cheeked sweetness and marvel: he’s so innocent, so pure, so uncomplicated. And by most accounts, that’s how most little children appear to be. But then I imagine what he might be like six years down the road, by which time he’ll be ten and I’d no longer be the centre of his universe, and his life will revolve around friends and video games and sports and private jokes, and he’d already have had a few years contending with that seemingly monstrous thing called peer pressure, and his heart experiencing the first stirrings of crushes. And when I imagine what my boy might be like as a pre-teen, my heart quivers and aches with a sense of loss; because as children grow, they inevitably lose that adorable innocence bit by bit, don’t they? To grownups, children’s inner lives may not seem much complicated. But we often unconsciously play down what kids feel and think. As kids grow up, it’s hard for them to talk with their parents about ways they are gaining strength, inspiration, and a strong sense of self. And even harder to talk about is what they’re struggling with, in fear of being reprimanded or judged; or worse, ignored and dismissed.

But you know what? Their favourite stories offer them solace, and a clue to what they value and root for. Kids are drawn to stories that resonate with challenges and experiences they’re facing. Overcoming adversity, loneliness, bullying, speaking one’s truth, enduring tragedy, finding a kindred spirit, making a sacrifice, relying on wit or cleverness against all odds. Have you ever found yourself rooting for a protagonist who isn’t a flawed hero, who doesn’t have to fight for something? Think about your favourite heroes. I know grown men in their thirties and forties and fifties who still root for Batman, whose alter-ego Bruce Wayne is a tycoon who seems to have it all; but he was tragically orphaned when his parents were killed right in front of his eyes as a child, and he was left to ward off all the vultures vying for his enormous fortune with the help of his loyal butler, Alfred. Adversity, tragedy, hardship – this is the stuff that translates into purposeful meaning for a child. And the thing about my favourite Japanese animes is that regardless of how incredibly ridiculous and far-fetched their stories got (just watch Captain Tsubasa “足球小將” and be utterly dazzled by how those spiky-haired kids can make a soccer ball transform into a fiery meteor!), the emotional depth that their characters carry and convey is often so masterfully done that you can’t help but become emotionally invested.

The following is a list of Cantonese-dubbed Japanese anime that are closest to my heart, the ones that popped into my head the instant I thought about writing this post. These are the stories that have stayed with me well into my adult years and still make me smile and ache with nostalgia. Do you know any of them? These, to me, are pearls that make up my string of childhood memories, and each and every one is special. By reading this, I hope that you, dear reader, can also look back on those stories that made your childhood special, bearable, wonderful, quirky, magical – however you want to describe it. For without these stories, what would have become of us? And I hope that like me, my boy will one day look back on his childhood and think: yes, those stories really made a difference.

Creamy Mami —《我係小忌廉》

Captain Tsubasa —《足球小將》

I Love Persia! —《魔法妖精貝露沙》

Dragon Ball —《龍珠》

Mister Ajikko —《伙頭智多星》

Saint Seiya —《聖鬥士星矢》

Hello! Lady Lynn —《新小甜甜》

City Hunter —《城市獵人》

Tomb of the Fireflies —《再見螢火蟲》

Anne of Green Gables —《安妮的故事》

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
27th April 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

 

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: Think writers and artists are useless? Try to spend lockdown and quarantine without books, movies, music, poems and video games.

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“Lawyer. Banker. Doctor. Only the smartest get into these three fields, right?”

These all-too-familiar words were casually uttered by an acquaintance years ago at a gathering with other ABCs – the Chinese diaspora who, like me, had been born in and/or spent the majority of their youth in places like America, Australia, and the UK. The Chanel-clad woman hailed from old family money and struck me as a character you might encounter in Crazy Rich Asians. I hid a smile when she blinked in confusion after a young woman shared how ghastly difficult it was to save up for a thirty percent downpayment to get a modest, two-bedroom flat in Sai Wan. “Oh, I’m sure you could manage that,” she admonished with polite disbelief, probably thinking about her 3000 square-feet duplex in Tai Tam, unable to comprehend and empathize with the plight of the average wage earner. That was before she made the comment about lawyers and bankers and doctors being the torch-bearers of human achievement. As though everyone else who chooses to work in a lab or counsel traumatized children or write or paint or create music for a living only do so because they have no other options.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I think law, banking, and medicine are perfectly respectable (I have great respect for the health-care frontliners battling this pandemic), and I understand why many parents hope that their children would embark on one of these career paths. In fact, my eldest brother is a lawyer, and my other brother is a banker. In my family, I’m the oddball who loves to write and draw and regards her books like friends. The Ellanor Chronicles would not exist if I hadn’t pulled on my wingtips to chase that elusive dream.

However, life has a funny way of putting things into perspective. During this pandemic, certain things have become crystal-clear. For one, those who can afford to do social distancing and work from home do not die of boredom, and it is possible to exercise indoors. And without the arts, life during this pandemic would be that much more drab. Truth is, whether or not we are big readers, nearly every single person craves a good story. We drink up engaging, entertaining stories like we binge on scrumptious, hearty food. Good stories nourish our souls and keep us somewhat anchored and connected in some inexplicable way to each other; because, in reality, you and I are as vulnerable as everyone else in many ways, but we hide behind things like social status and money and false bravado. In the end, we all share commonalities that make us human. We all want to be loved, we all get hurt and rejected, we all grieve when we lose loved ones, we crave newness and adventure and success, and we all fall sick, grow old, and die. In the end, when stripped bare of our armour and jewels, we all leave the world behind. Many wonderful, timeless stories remind us of this commonality, whether we like it or not.

I know many bankers and lawyers and doctors who stumble home after a mind-numbing day at work and feast on a good film or TV series or a book to wind down, to briefly escape from the hardness of life and to recharge their beaten, jaded souls. I know a high-flying banker who loves reading Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings and to this day still watches classic Japanese anime like Dragon Ball after another stressful day at work discussing numbers and money and investments. Good stories inspire us to keep hoping and instill in us courage and heart to see what another new day brings in a life that sometimes feels too draining and repetitive. Fiction is based on real life, yet the best stories are those that enthrall and inspire us to transcend our circumstances. Because at the end of the day, many writers also want to do their part in uplifting the human spirit in a world that can be awful and bleak but still worth fighting for, because there is still much that is good and beautiful to celebrate.

Since late January, I have been staying home as much as I can, doing the social-distancing thing with my 4 year-old boy who, thankfully, is still at that innocent and absolutely adorable age when he still loves being with mommy and daddy at home twenty-four hours a day without an eye-roll in sight. My husband and I have managed to savour some wonderful films in the past couple of months, and this has inspired me to write about the significance of films and stories.

A great film is the result of an arduous journey that stems from excellent story-telling, a great screen-play, sensitive directing, and talented acting. I believe that the biggest denominator of all great films is creativity and good writing, without which films would not have come into being to make our lives all the richer, brighter, and ultimately more bearable.

Below I have come up with a list of some films I love. This is an eclectic selection of various genres. And these great films originated from great books or screenplays by writers who poured their heart and soul into their work. Which of these movies did you watch and like?

  1. The Shawshank Redemption (based on the book by Stephen King)
  2. Forrest Gump (based on the novel by Winston Groom)
  3. The Pianist (based on the Holocaust memoir by Wladyslaw Szpilman)
  4. Contact (based on the book by Carl Sagan)
  5. Arrival (based on the short story by Ted Chiang)
  6. Dr Sleep (sequel to ‘The Shining’ by Stephen King)
  7. Pan’s Labyrinth (based on the original screenplay by Guillermo del Toro)
  8. Dead Poets’ Society (based on the Best Original Screenplay by Tom Schulman)
  9. Lord of the Rings Trilogy (based on the books by J.R.R Tolkien)
  10. Parasite (Korean film that won Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay at the Academy Awards by the director Bong Joon-ho and Han Jin-won)

This is the first in a series of posts dedicated to my love for films and how they relate back to the importance of stories and ultimately good writing. Let’s play a quick game: comment on this post by listing your top three favourite films. Hedgehog Publishing will send the lucky-draw winner free author-signed copies of the first two books in The Ellanor Chronicles.

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
12th April 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

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Kathryn Tse-Durham: What I Have in Common with Emily Blunt

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Yes, dear reader, you’re probably rolling your eyes and wondering: what could Kathryn possibly have anything in common with Emily Blunt? I mean, Emily is this famous, gorgeous, amazingly talented actress from London whose name is synonymous with the formidable, umbrella-wielding Mary Poppins. Though Anne Hathaway was hailed as the star in The Devil Wears Prada, to this day I still think that Emily was the one who stole the film as the snobbish, poshly-accented wannabe assistant to Meryl Streep’s titular devil of a boss. Then I developed a bit of a crush on her after watching The Edge of Tomorrow and A Quiet Place, and it was only recently that I learned what Emily Blunt and I have in common – we both grew up struggling with a speech impediment, and eventually we both found ways to overcome it. That’s right – Emily Blunt had a severe stutter as a child and struggled with it well into her teens. It had such a huge impact on her that she’s become deeply involved in the American Institute of Stuttering. In a recent interview with Marie Claire, Emily talks about how her stutter ultimately led her to forging a successful acting career. https://www.marieclaire.com/celebrity/a30729273/emily-blunt-stutter-interview-2020/

There is so much misinformation out there about what stuttering is. But due to the limited scope of this blog, it is neither the place nor the time to delve into the science and research behind the baffling speech impediment that plagued the likes of King George VI (Queen Elizabeth’s father as portrayed in The King’s Speech), and even celebrities such as Joe Biden, Bruce Willis, Samuel L. Jackson, and James Earl Jones (aka voice of Darth Vadar). Stuttering as a speech disorder is not psychological. It’s not that you’re insecure or feeble, it’s not that you’re unintelligent, it’s not that you don’t know what you want to say. It’s actually neurological with something to do with how the motor-speech pathways are wired, and it can be exacerbated by stress. It can be managed and controlled, but it takes a lot of hard work and discipline.

What in the world does my stutter have anything to do with my love for writing? Oh, it does. Very much so. It is interesting how hardship shapes us and leads us to develop in ways that we would not have seen whilst being mired in it. Because, you see, growing up I came to realize that I could express my thoughts much, much better in writing than when speaking. I learned that words have incredible power, and so I used the written word to compensate for what I couldn’t verbally express. As a child, I dreaded reading out loud in class. I was seen as the shy and awkward one, when beneath that my real self was screaming to be let out. “This isn’t me!” I wanted to shout, but I just shrunk into myself. It was when I was 16 that I met a speech therapist named Fran Logan who changed my life. My stutter and my eventual overcoming of it inspired me to become a Speech and Language Therapist, too. That became my profession. And writing became my true passion.

It is with hindsight that we see how everything happens as a chain-reaction. Back in my teens, because of my stutter I became very shy and reclusive for a long time, and I learned to turn to books for solace. Just before my final year in high school, I was in a really dark place. It was during this year that my stutter got really bad, and I withdrew even more. The future looked bleak to me. It is because of my extreme shyness and aloneness that year that I often went to the school library by myself, and that is how I stumbled upon The Lord of the Rings, and J.R.R. Tolkien’s magical world sort of saved me. His words put colour back into my monochrome life. To me, stories are powerful because they can open up your world in some indiscernible but life-changing way. It is because of Tolkien that I was inspired to write The Ellanor Chronicles. Perhaps, some things are meant to be.

I think some people might be shaking their heads in disbelief as they read this. Kathryn, shy and quiet and reclusive? No way! Many people now see me as an extrovert, bubbly and energetic and annoyingly optimistic. Recently, I reacquainted with a high school friend in Seoul, and as I guffawed loudly at something, my friend marveled, “You used to be so quiet and shy. But now you are so noisy! What happened to you?” I laughed and said, “I’m just a late bloomer.”

My stutter helped me grow as a person and become a better writer in more ways than one. This has been articulated pretty much perfectly by Emily Blunt herself: “I think in some ways, when you go through something like having a stutter, you become a really good listener. You absorb the world in a different way. Because you’re maybe less inclined to talk when you’re going through it. You become really conscious of a lot of stuff going around you, so I think I was a really observant kid. I was a really empathetic kid and still feel that’s something I try and lead with. And I encourage empathy in my kids and embracing differences and not being scared of them, you know?”  

Empathy. My struggles with having a stutter and my overcoming of it helped me become a better listener and observer, and I truly believe that to be a better writer you need to be these things. You need to try to understand people, their thoughts and their plights, and what motivates them to do, or not do, certain things. That’s how we craft characters in our stories. Everyone is flawed. We all have baggage and thoughts we would rather keep private, and many of us are fighting some sort of silent battle we never reveal on social media. I think writers need to capture all these character nuances, and as writers I believe we should try to inspire empathy and kindness, too. Because stories can be the most powerful way to say something important.

One fine day, I shall tick this off my bucket-list: I will meet Emily Blunt at an American Institute for Stuttering conference and shake her hand and thank her for giving hope to so many people out there who dream big dreams but may be too scared to do anything about it. That’s really what we all have in common, isn’t it? We are all flawed and broken, but in our own imperfect ways we try to make a difference and leave the world a slightly better place.

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
28th March 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

KTD20200313

Kathryn Tse-Durham: Love and War in the Time of COVID-19

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Hi everyone! This is my first blog ever, thanks to Hedgehog Publishing. I’m a working mommy to a 4 year-old boy and a furbaby, and I’m a speech and language therapist and author of The Ellanor Chronicles. By coincidence, I was recently interviewed by a Bloomberg News journalist who’s co-writing an article about how mothers in Hong Kong have been coping with the pressures caused by the coronavirus outbreak. School closures, mask shortages, working from home, social distancing – all of these have turned our lives upside down. Since the journalist seemed to like what I wrote, I thought I would include some of what I sent her in this first blog post, because, let’s face it, who hasn’t been significantly affected by the outbreak? Even my dog has been impacted and must wonder why these days he almost never gets a break from my boisterous little boy who has overtaken his territory with sprawling LEGO train tracks.

To say that it’s been a tough, surreal month is an understatement. ‘Love and War in the Time of COVID-19’ –  one day I might just write a memoir about this madness that has affected every aspect of my life. It seems that this outbreak has brought out some of the finest qualities in people, and also the most bizarre and in some cases downright terrible. This truly is the age of globalization – just look at how this virus has taken root all over the globe. Now the world understands the strange phenomenon of the hoarding contagion and would no longer laugh at Hong Kongers for being the only ones on the planet to hoard rice and toilet paper. Our family never caught that hoarding bug, but it did affect us. Instead of rice, we turned to pasta and noodles and bread. Instead of toilet paper – well, we were prepared to resort to other feasible and hygienic solutions in case our supply ran out, which ultimately didn’t, thank goodness. 

So, how are mommies coping with all this madness? I can only speak for myself, so I’ll say this: it’s all a learning curve, and nobody’s perfect so mommies shouldn’t be too hard on themselves nor on each other. It’s important to stay flexible and positive and realize that nothing lasts forever, so we shall bear with it because the sun will come out eventually. As a working mommy with a plate so full that sometimes I end up getting five hours of uninterrupted sleep if I’m lucky, I thank God that I have a good helper to help ease the workload. And in a time like this, some things come into focus a lot more – that close relationships, more than money or success, are what keeps us happy and sane throughout a crisis. So for me, it helps that my husband, my partner-in-crime, makes me laugh and lets me have a good cry on his shirt sleeve and watches juvenile Netflix rom-coms with me just so I can snuggle up with him after a harrowing day; it helps that he surprises me with goodies from Lululemon and helps out at home and spends quality time with our son and tells me that I’m beautiful and doing great, even when I feel like a total wreck. Of course, no marriage is perfect. But kids are more astute than we give them credit for – so if mommy and daddy work as a team and look happy together (most of the time), then it will keep them anchored and happy, too.

Sure, there are plenty of downsides of this COVID-19 outbreak. For one, it’s scary that it’s so infectious. I feel terrible for those who lost loved ones to the disease. I hate staying cooped up at home and not being able to see my students in the flesh. I so miss the fresh air on my face that’s not covered by a mask. I hate that my son is missing out on school and socializing with peers and friends. I miss taking him out to parks and playgrounds and Ocean Park. I hate not going out for my Personal Training sessions to keep up with my kick-boxing.

But here’s the thing – not all of it has been bad. I know I risk coming across as flakey by saying this, but as a generally optimistic person I do try to make the best out of a bad situation. I think that if we don’t try to focus on the good stuff, we’ll just all lose our sanity. So, perhaps it’s self-preservation, but it’s helped to keep me sane and relatively happy (most of the time) since all this outbreak madness started.

One upside is that because I’ve been working from home, I’ve had more time to write and finish up my third book in The Ellanor Chronicles, woo-hoo!  But I think the best upside of having to stay home so much is more quality family time. I believe that young children thrive on a schedule with plenty of time allowed for free-play. I’ve been coming up with ways to teach my 4 year-old son things that he may not get to learn at his kindergarten, and I have been pleasantly surprised by how well he has taken to these new tasks that I had previously thought might be a tad too challenging for a boy just emerging from toddlerhood. In the past month of home-schooling him, he’s learned to write his (rather long) name and little love notes to his grandparents and cousins. Over two days he learned to ride a bike without training wheels because Daddy’s had much more time with him since he’s working from home. My boy’s  learned to play the tunes of Twinkle Little Star, Happy Birthday, Jingle Bells, and Mary Had a Little Lamb off by heart on his little blue electric keyboard.

So, despite the pressures and limitations imposed by this outbreak, as a mommy I have found great joy in watching my child still learn and thrive in this limiting environment. I feel blessed that my husband and I love each other’s company and yet know how to give each other space, so that being stuck under the same roof 24/7 hasn’t left us feeling murderous towards each other. As an author, I’m glad I’ve been able to make good use of all this time spent at home to work on my writing. It hasn’t been easy, but we make do with what we have, and sometimes we stumble across gems in the mire of muck and disorder. Because that’s life, right? Finding the beauty amidst the chaos. We must.

Kathryn Tse-Durham
Author of The Ellanor Chronicles
13th March 2020

This blog post is also posted on Kathryn’s Facebook Page. Visit here.

book launch

Book launch event of Ellanor and the Curse on the Nine-Tailed Fox

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Back in June when I was getting ready for this little publishing project. I didn’t quite expect this roller coaster ride that would come to me. I think I will write a bit about that later. Let’s write something happy today.

As mentioned previously, the book launch for Ellanor and the Search for Organoth Blue Amber is postponed due to social unrests and safety reasons. Now it is back on, but instead of celebrating the launch of the first instalment, we are using this occasion to celebrate the launch of the second instalment, Ellanor and the Curse on the Nine-tailed Fox! Small publisher like us might have very limited resource, but on the other hand we are very flexible, God bless us, we just need this flexibility so much.

Alright, book launch details as follow:
Date: Jan 19, 2020 (Sunday)
Time: 3.30 – 5.30pm
Venue: Nectar Integrative Dining, G/F, Shop D, 108 Hollywood road, Central

Drinks and Canapes will be served. Please RSVP by emailing to info[@]hedgehog-publishing.com

Cheers!

#theellanorchronicles #kathryntsedurham #hedgehogpublishing #publishing #hongkong #event #booklaunch

Postponement of the book launch (Nov 17)

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Update on the book launch event (Nov 17)

Everyone knows things have been getting worse these days. Hong Kong people need time to think about what they really want, and who they really are.
 
As a one-man publisher (teaming up with some helpful designers and printers), I will try moving forward flexibly.

Anyway, the book launch on Nov 17 will be postponed to mid January, for safety reasons. Well, now there is some extra time, I hope to use this time to try to bring something new to the event. That’s the only thing I can do.

Some further updates regarding the book will be up next week.

Meanwhile, please stay safe.

And I will try to write some meaningful posts in the coming days.

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