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United Kingdom 🇬🇧

Tiffany C

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Bio

Tiffany is a bilingual, prize-nominated writer, who grew up in Hong Kong and moved to London at sixteen. After receiving her MSc in Strategic Marketing from Imperial College, she worked as a digital marketer for several years, before transitioning to writing full-time. She has completed two novels since, one of which was “highly commended” in Faber & Faber’s Fab prize in 2020. As a plant-based vegan, Tiffany is a huge advocate for sustainability and wellbeing, and now copywrites and creates content for change makers and kind businesses.

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As a Story Terrace writer, Tiffany C interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know our writer better by reading the autobiographical anecdote below!

A Thousand Illuminated Windows

I was born in winter. The first memory I ever had, I was nestled in my dad’s arms, brushing a pudgy hand over a string of Christmas lights, which flashed pale white as it emitted a mechanical jingle. Just a dream of a memory, yet I remember, to great effect, the way my awareness tunnelled and how my heart swelled.

Beautiful, I thought.

Fast-forward a few years: at six, I was sitting in the backseat of my family car. It was night, and the windows were all rolled down. Over the clamour of traffic, Dad was singing, off-tune, but occasionally, he would throw back his head, and say, “Look! Look at the lights!” And always, I would look, and the sight of my city would falter me every time. Even a pregnant moon paled in comparison to the lights brimming from a thousand windows. A hundred gilded skyscrapers reaching for the clouds.

Beautiful, I thought.

As the years went by, Hong Kong’s lights did not dim, yet life marred my sights – school, family drama, petty crushes – only every Chinese New Year, when my whole family came together for a new year dinner, and afterwards, for the viewing of the annual fireworks over Victoria harbour; only then, did I remember to pause.

Beautiful, I thought.

But still, I forgot to look back when, at sixteen, I took a one-way trip to England. Now, every time I board a plane to Hong Kong for a visit, I book a window seat overlooking the horizon. The sight of city lights would, without fail, unearth a longing that ricochets deep in my soul.

For even though all the shops, buildings, and roads have changed while I was away, I would always find my dad on the other side of the arrival gates. A little older, but still larger than life. No smaller than the man who held me in his arms when I was just a baby reaching for a string of Christmas lights.

Because the city of lights, to me, is not just a place, but a feeling. Of family, laughter, and of small things that add up to mean the world.

It takes a thousand illuminated windows to light up the night.

And I’m lucky my home is as large as a city.

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