FG: How were you introduced to poetry?

EH: My relationship with reading and writing poems is very much a progressive, fluid one. I started out being intimidated by it -- I would shy away from writing a poem that wasn't in iambic pentameter or an ABAB rhyme scheme, because the idea of having so much free rein with poetry scared me a bit, and I would occasionally break out in a sweat at the idea of annotating something with more than a few stanzas. I think I was formally introduced to poems with an anthology I borrowed (and possibly have yet to return) from my middle school library, which contained works from over the centuries. I read poems by Carl Sandburg, Robert Frost, e e cummings, and Sylvia Plath, and really relished how writers were able to create these overwhelming narratives in just a page or so of text. I also got to see how the genre evolved over the years to something that has a greater focus on the conventional as opposed to the ethereal.

 

It's actually quite difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when I first became engrossed in poetry. I often think of Mark Strand's poem about eating poetry that I once talk to a few kids at a writing workshop -- "I devoured poetry until ink came out of the corners of my mouth, until I had so many poems of my own to share".

 

 

FG: What has influenced your writing? Who inspires you?

 

EH: I love these kinds of questions -- I'm definitely someone who loves to talk about anything that even remotely interests me. I get inspiration from a lot of things; If I watch a movie or read a poem that just blows me away, I'll most likely rave to someone about it for a solid thirty minutes.

 

I've always been a big fan of Junot Diaz -- his writing is refreshingly original and alive. I read Drown a while ago and loved his style, his way of exploring the gorgeously mundane. Same with Matthew Dickman. His poems never take themselves too seriously, which is a surprisingly great thing to see frem a writer, and they read as their own depraved, funny, lovely little stories that leave you feeling full and empty at the same time. I'm also influenced by Asian-American writers, like Li-Young Lee, Ocean Vuong, and Jenny Zhang, who have written beautiful, groundbreaking work. Additionally, one of the first collections of poetry I read was Ariel by Sylvia Plath, which showed me that poems can be grotesque and ugly as well as otherworldly.

 

I also don't like limiting inspiration to one genre, so I try to watch a lot of films and shows. I recently watched Moonlight, which reminded me of a Junot Diaz short story, the way it was so vivid and anti-biopic. Also, this is totally just a shameless plug for one of my favourite shows of all time, by Bojack Horseman is a weird, hilarious, and genius show on Netflix about anthropomorphic animals that might just be the most vulnerable and human show on TV. Overall, I try to carve out a space for art and inspiration in my life, even if it just means scrambling through my Netflix queue.

 

 

FG: In your Ted Talk, "The Potential of a Poem",  you emphasize how free you feel while writing, and you've led poetry workshops as a National Student Poet. What have been your experiences with new writers trying to override their need to self-censor? What can the poetry community do as a whole to help each other get over this difficulty?

 

EH: Especially for young, budding writers, I think it's important to write for yourself (excuse the cliche). Although I strongly agree with the criticism that "write for yourself" is problematic -- art, after all, is meant to be viewed and digested, and it's never a one-sided experience -- I think that trying to self-censor or write for others can hinder any kind of improvement. There have been so many times, as I'm writing, I think, "What if the contest/publication I'm submitting to doesn't like my writing style? What if this sentence sounds awkward? What if NOBODY LIKES MY WRITING???" This is pretty unhealthy. As a poetry community, it's nice to step away from style, syntax, etc. and focus on why we want to write in the first place: because we love to.

 

 

FG: Do you have any other passions? Any projects you're working on?

 

EH: I've recently gotten into watching, analyzing, and making films. My grandfather actually taught cinema studies while he was a professor in China, so in a way, I guess I'm just restarting the family business. I'm also trying to write more personal essays and memoir pieces. The act of writing essays has always unnerved me a bit ( don't even get me started on the impending stress of writing college applications); It takes a good amount of vulnerability and courage to write cohesively, comprehensively and concisely about defining, life-changing moments.

 

Public speaking has also been one of my interests for a while; I currently work as a speaker curator for TEDxNavesink, one of the largest TEDx events on the East Coast. I ultimately want to bring young, diverse, and multifaceted speakers to a conference that has been dominated by older, more experienced, yet mostly homogeneous presenters. It's a volunteer job I truly enjoy -- I've always been fascinated by what makes a narrative or idea, compelling, and TEDx gives me the ideal platform to further explore and dissect these concepts.

 

 

FG: On social media, you’ve announced that this year you’re writing a poem a day, and have even posted some snippets. How is that progressing? Do you have any intention of assembling them at the end of the year and making them public (as a chapbook or otherwise,) or is it primarily a personal project? Other than that, do you have any resolutions or hopes/wishes for the new year?

 

EH: I don’t think I know enough about the film industry or filming in general to give a conclusive answer, and I haven’t worked on enough films to flesh out a uniting theme, but I really hope to see more films about people of color or other demographics in an industry that has long been dominated by white filmmakers and actors. Take a film like Moonlight, for instance. It could have easily overloaded you with this overblown, more cliched tale of a black, queer boy struggling in poverty, but it did what I hope to see movies do in the future––it treated its subjects like real, dimensional people, creating this profound and intimate story of a person’s life. I feel as if minority characters never really get to be real people in film and other forms of storytelling––they’re always pigeonholed into these archetypes of what other people expect them to be. I’m still so excited that Moonlight won the Oscar for Best Picture. Even the whole debacle with La La Land, which I also enjoyed, had a sort of symbolism to it––old, nostalgic Hollywood was literally pushed aside to make way for diverse and boundary-shattering filmmaking. I’m hopeful that the future of film will allow more voices to tell their own real, complex stories.

 

 

FG: If you could travel back in time to any age, would you tell your past self?

 

EH: Honestly, I wouldn't trust myself to give advice at any age. But I would probably tell my middle school or early high school self to take it easy. I was a really intense kid when I was younger, and I think I still am, to some extent. I was always worried about whether my writing was good enough, and I was constantly trying to prove that it was. But I think that it's important to give yourself time to do things you genuinely enjoy, and to view writing as more of a process instead of a fixed quality. I would tell myself that I would never be 100% comfortable with the quality of my writing at any point in time, but that's not necessarily a bad thing -- you can grow, improve and learn.

 

 

FG: What have you been reading or listening to lately? Your favourite tv shows? Are there any lesser-known books, shows, or albums that you'd recommend?

 

EH: I'm so glad I get another chance to espouse my many TV show recommendations. My friend recently introduced me to the comedian Eric Andre, and I've developed an odd obsession with his show and weird AF street skits. He has this brand of absurdist, surrealist humor that often gets marked off as pure idiocy, but I think it definitely serves as a great form of commentary. He's even willing to subvert the increasingly popular late-night talk genre by doing the most ridiculous things during celebrity interviews (e.g, sawing his desk in half). It makes you think about why talk shows occupy such a large space in popular culture right now.

 

I'm currently reading the essays of Jenny Zhang, and it's already a transcendent experience. It's so rare to find someone who almost perfectly captures the second-gen Chinese- American experience. I've had so many moments where, as I'm reading a piece by her, I think: That's me. I can see myself in this. On another note, I've been listening to Father John Misty's oddly psychedelic folk music. I'm sure if I have any particular rationale for why I like it, but his lyrics are clever and his songs are permanent earworms.

 

 

FG: Lastly, to stay true to our name, do you like sweet or sour food better?

 

EH: I'm not very picky (will honestly eat anything), but I'd have to go with sweet!