At the Hagia Sofia, one of the most amazing places in the world.
When I first told my parents I wanted to be a writer, I was 4 years old.
To which they replied: "That's great, but please get a real job."
So I went to school in three different cities, aced my senior year chemistry final, defied Chinese stereotypes and went to design school instead, worked in a record store, graduated from design school, designed Flash websites like it was 2005 (it was 2006), became an account manager — and had a quarter-life crisis.
At which point I thought: "This is a really unnecessary and painful way to become a writer."
So I stopped crying, quit my job, left Sydney, and came to San Francisco to be a copywriter.
Today, I get to design with words. I solve problems with my whole toolbox: the design, UX, project planning, and writing skills that I’ve gathered and honed over the last two decades. And yes, mom, this really is my real job.