Lynn An

My sister and I went to see Wicked at the Pantages in 2007. I was nine and knew nothing of the show (nor The Wizard of Oz film). But with Eden Espinosa and Megan Hilty as the leads, I walked out completely changed, for good. A month later, I sang "Popular" in an audition at my elementary school, coincidentally for a production of The Wizard of Oz. I got the Tin Man, and it's still an experience I am so grateful for.

My mother began writing (or "receiving") faith-based songs in Mandarin around the time I was born. Her music is absolutely stunning and remains a major part of our relationship today. When I was eight, she had an interest in having me sing her songs for my school talent shows, but she needed them translated into English. I began helping her with the translations, which turned into an unexpected apprenticeship in lyric-writing.

I didn't begin writing my own songs until I was around 17 years old. I recall being on a train to school and starting a lyric, then being so taken by the process that I didn't go to school that day. That song, titled "Sadly Ever After, After All," was the first time I ever tangibly expressed my queer identity. It revealed how therapeutic and healing songwriting could be, and soon became a frequent (but very private) practice for me.

My writing is dramatic, punchy, and lyrically focused. It often draws from my personal experiences with faith, ambition, and love.

I love the personal puzzle of it all. It's an art form that seems limitless at first, but when you start the process, it feels like the song exists in your soul and you're on a quest to "find" it. Suddenly, there are right words and wrong words, right melodies and wrong melodies. Through trial, error, care, and intuition, you create something that feels completely meant to be. And yet you are the only one who could've ever written it. It takes a great deal of faith, patience, and trust in yourself, and I find strengthening that trust to be useful not only as a writer, but as a person.