Late Bloomer, or Freedom From Failure: Min Jin Lee, author of Free Food For Millionaires
It’s a foggy Sunday afternoon and all I want to do is stay in bed. At the encouragement of my husband, I manage to crawl out of the warm covers, slap myself awake, hobble together an outfit, and speed taxi my way over to the last day of the Shanghai International Literary Festival. Only a few minutes late, I creep into the audience and break out my lap-top. There’s a good energy in the room and the moderator, Andrew Yang, is in the midst of introducing featured author Min Jin Lee. As she takes the mic, I’m struck by how young she looks for one claiming to be a late bloomer. Turns out, Min Jin Lee quit being an attorney when she was around 25 years old and working 300 hours a month. She contracted a major liver illness and decided to become a writer instead of dying as a lawyer. After saving $15,000, she embarked on her new path, thinking that she was going to publish a novel in nine months. As she retells her story, Min Jin Lee interjects with quips and jokes, often laughing at herself. She talks about being rejected by everyone on “really nice paper”. Then she says “ass” in public, and it’s the final nail for me. I like her and I want to be her friend. I’m that fan in the back of the bookstore, biting my fingernails and squinting at my beloved author as she reads aloud on a makeshift stage. Hmm. Right. Anyhow, Min Jin’s story unwound over twelve years of rejection and three unpublished manuscripts before coming out with her current best-seller, Free Food For Millionaires.
Andrew Yang switches focus to the book itself. The background is about an Asian-American girl from an immigrant family, whose hard-working parents send her to an Ivy League school. She graduates with a lot of aspirations, some squashed and some accomplished, while a battery of quandaries and anecdotes buffet her along the way. The book is also very much about New York and Wall Street. During her writing process, Min Jin (we’re on a first name basis now) interviewed about 40 people in New York for the book, including many CEO and Wall Street types. As she interviewed more and more individuals for her book, she realized that people have very strong urges to unload, especially with regard to secrets about their sex life. She was very careful about establishing trust with her subjects upfront, and often the interviews became oddly confessional.
Having heard so many different stories from men and women having extra-marital affairs, Min Jin also says she became increasingly indifferent towards infidelity. There’s a lot more going on between adulterers than sex and lies, and she began to develop a lot of respect for those who actually stay happily married. She tangents into an interesting tirade about the importance of sex between individuals, etc., and a tangible tension coalesces in the audience. Andrew helps break it up by changing the subject, while Min Jin herself diffuses any remaining “weirdness” in the room with a hearty laugh.
Money is a key character in her book and she says that a lot can be revealed in how a person eats, drinks and spends money. Her conclusion after much observation is that overall every person is a millionaire in their own right. There are so many rich people who have no clue as to what would make them happy. She brings up a Swingers reference, which is hilarious because I’m not sure how many people in the audience actually got the Vince Vaughn quote (“You’re so money, you are so money and you don’t even know it.”).
New York City is another character, a city of extremes, she calls it. She’s found Shanghai to be much the same, a place where you can’t say stupid things because you’ll see something immediately that will probably counteract the dumb thing you are saying. Living amongst extremes keeps you honest. Korean-Americanism is yet another character, and she expresses how much she appreciates being part of an immigrant family. She’s from a crazy tribe and she loves it. She explains how all these elements of your background create filters, the filter of being married, the filter of being a woman, etc., which is a just a great metaphor.
It’s Q&A time, and someone in the audience asks what was the critical point that brought her from three failed manuscripts to FFFM. Min Jin tells us how she spent seven years trying to write serious fiction, and a major turning point for her was when her friend told her that her stories were okay but why didn’t they sound like the way she talks? Min Jin was furious at first, but quickly found merit in her friend’s feedback. Taking the advice, she sat down and wrote in first person for the first time, and it was the first story that she actually got published. Seems a lot of firsts happened for her at year seven. Umm…year SEVEN?
Did she ever want to give up? Min Jin responds that she was so discouraged by the many rejection letters that she felt like quitting all the time. She had moments where she was so angry and upset and wondered, ‘Why isn’t this happening for me?’ Her sister wisely suggested that she focus not on the lack of acceptances, but aim to collect 100 rejections instead. That way, you are putting yourself out there and may actually get 10 acceptances amongst all those rejections. Min Jin also asked herself at one point why she wanted her book to be published so badly. Was that the end-all? She realized that writing is just something inside her. Having something published may not be the end goal after all.
The talk is over and I head over to the bar where copies of Min Jin’s book are for sale. I am completely mortified when I see the cover, featuring a side profile of a woman wearing a red fedora. I stand there, blushing as red as the fedora perched on my head at that very moment. Damn, I’m friggin’ dressed like the girl on the cover. Ultimate loser move. As I ask for her autograph, I giggle nervously and tell Min Jin that I had not seen the cover before donning my red hat this afternoon, it was purely coincidental. She looks up at me with a winning smile and says something like, “Hon, I’m glad you wore your red hat because it looks fabulous.” I smile sheepishly and almost trip down the stairs on my way off the stage. Such a nice lady. Leaving in a swoon, I am super-charged with inspiration for my burgeoning life as a writer. What is there to be afraid of when you’re doing what you love most? Bring it on, Failure and Rejection, I’m not afraid of you!
- Article originally posted on Urbanatomy Shanghai
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