Yesterday I got a copy of KoreAm journal. On its cover is the gorgeous Moon Bloodgood (How fricking cool of a name is that by the way? It just sounds like she can fight crime, suck your blood, do a backflip and make out with you without breaking a sweat or messing up her hair.) and the issue’s cover proclaims it the 17-year Anniversary Issue.
Wow.
Pretty amazing. I mean, afterall – to have an ethnic niche publication continue to produce quality writing, stay above water, and deliver consistantly for 17 years is pretty stunning. My respect and kudos to the KoreAm publishing team for doing that all these years. It really is amazing. I remember in college when I had the older formatted – almost newspaper tabloid format versions. I’ve been really honored about being able to write for them over the last 6 years but that time is now officially over.
The story of how I started writing for KoreAm is a funny one. I had been a humor columnist monthly for Iistix. A now defunct asian american humor webzine that introduced me to people like Ernie and got me hooked on publishing online. I loved being able to write, I learnted to find my voice, and to have more confidence with my writing voice (neurotically charming – non AP style double-negative packing pejoratives). An intern at KoreAm, Charse Yun contacted me and insisted that I apply to KoreAm to write freelance for them. I exchanged emails with editor Jimmy Lee about freelance op-ed writing and it worked out. Within 4-5 months I was given my own column titled Miscellaneous Mutterings. This was all in the spring/summer of 2001.
And so I wrote. Every month for the equivalent fo a decent dinner for two at a 2 star restaurant (not enough for wine or valet mind you) I wrote a 600-900 word piece. Op ed, personal pieces that reflected what was going non in my life, what i thought about it as a Korean American, my personal commentary and frequent navel gazing and etc. what not. It wasn’t a posh writing gig, but one for love. And because I was actually getting *paid* for it, something that felt really official, professional, and legitimate. I was getting paid, and had my own column, in a National Asian American, award winning publication. And I wasn’t even 30 yet.
My dad was always so proud of me. Within weeks of him receiving his first issue, he was proudly carrying the magazine around to his Church friends and telling them they had to subscribe. This from a man who regularly avoids reading or speaking in English if he can. It made me vaklempt.
I mean, I’d never really felt super *korean* enough to hang out with other Korean American kids. I grew up blue collar and awkward outside of detroit. New york Korean girls scared me. LA Korean girls scared me. Actually, most other Korean girls scared me because well – I still, after all these years, haven’t quite gotten the hang of of wearing liquid eyeliner or a retail radar for Italian pumps (of which, after writing for Koream for 6 years – I would not be able to afford). But writing for KoreAm made me feel like I belonged. That I was still, at my roots, very very Korean American and that my experiences – as different or similar as they were to other people from other states, was ok, accepted, and maybe even honestly funny.
My roommate’s student’s orthodontist recalls my name and tells her that she reads me monthly. I get an email from a DJ out in Chicago who thanks me for making her laugh once a month. I get introduced to other Korean Americans as being a good writer for the community. I say, wow.
I’d only met the KoreAm publishing team a couple times. Jimmy, my editor, was a doll and patient with my persistant ability to be late for my writing. James, the publisher – I met only once and he bbqed for me. When KoreAm had a new office opening, I flew down to LA for the shindig. It was great and while I still felt awkward at points (hello—surrounded by scary LA Korean girls) I’d sat in the parking lot, lied down on the asphalt, gazing up at the stars, (ok – 3 beers into it) and was digesting my introduction and meeting with the amazingly bold and solid writer known to all as BananaMan. At that point, acclaimed author Helie Lee, approached me and asked “Excuse me, are you Min Jung Kim? I read your writing.” To which my typical self depracating remark was “Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” She laughed and we spoke for a moment. I think she was flattering me when she said that she sourced me as inspiration for a attitudinal, funny, and strong female character she was planning to use in one of her next books. Still, I blushed.
When actor John Cho (the milf guy) came up to San Francisco to perform with his band, I asked him to sign my copy of KoreAm that had him on the cover. When he asked me my name, I told him and he recognized me. “You’re a very entertaining writer.” I blushed and felt like total lactose-intolerant-cheese fan girl. Jimmy left his post at KoreAm earlier this year. New pastures. I am as ever proud of him and thankful for the opportunity he gave me and for his friendship.
I never did make it down to LA for any of KoreAm’s famous star galas. Then again, I was never invited – but like Groucho Marx, I’d never belong to a club that would have me as a member.
Anyway,
After getting April’s issue of the magazine, I realized that my piece (about being old – 33 — as old as jesus and what not) wasn’t in the magazine. Did they get it? I checked my email accounts and found buried in the spam folder the following email sent 4/17. (Email from the editor asking me for my piece on 4/9. My piece had been emailed to them 4/11)
************
4/17/07
Hi Min Jung,
I wanted to thank you for the years of columns you’ve given KoreAm and the
time you’ve put in each month. Unfortunately, we’ve decided to change a few
things editorially, including cutting Miscellaneous Mutterings.
Again, thanks for providing such entertaining stories to our readers. Hope
all is well and I wish you the best!
***********
I noted that instead of publishing my piece, or giving me an opportunity to at least say thanks or farewell to all my readers or write *something* to express my appreication for the years of writing and feeling part of the community, they published a letter to the editor that said “the magazine would do a lot better if you got rid of Jane and Min Jung Kim. I cannot stand either writer.”
Well. At least that one reader got their wish.
So with that, my time in print at KoreAm journal is done. I had a really involved bawlfest cry about it last night. It’s kind of irrational, I realize, to feel *bad* about being cut from a writing gig that doesn’t pay v. much and whose staff you’ve nearly never talked to on the phone. But yeah. Moving on. I have fewer excuses than ever, now, about planning my wedding and writing my own book. Had the agent in the wings for the last year after all.
It won’t be the last time that you see me writing in print.
But with tears and thanks, I express my fairwell to KoreAm.
