Slash boy

With babies, you wait three months before telling people, in case something goes wrong.
I figured the same rule could apply to my Chinese YouTube channel. Make three videos before unlocking the “share with friends and family” ability.
(I finally hit that milestone this week.)

But I finished the first video right before visiting my mom. Couldn’t help showing her.

She immediately started giving feedback.

• The audio was too quiet. Way below other channels.
• “Alex Hsu” won’t work as a channel name. You need a proper brand.
• When the second video came out, she said the thumbnail was terrible. It looked identical to the first one. Nobody could tell them apart. I should spend more time on thumbnails.

She’s not my target audience, but honestly, everything she said was right. Classic mom. My critical eye definitely comes from her.
I gave her feedback too: don’t lead with what’s wrong. Use the feedback sandwich I learned at Meta. Start with something good, then the critical bit, then how to improve.

Here’s the thing though. After hearing her advice about the channel name, I searched “Alex Hsu” on her TV. Dozens of people showed up.

None of them were me.

That’s a problem.
The Western advice is to just use your real name for personal branding. But for a Chinese-language channel, I needed a codename that people could actually find in Chinese search results.

I’d thought about using my Chinese nickname “駉” (jiōng).
I even registered 駉.com, which redirects to my website.
But I decided to just go by “Alex” everywhere. Same logic as only needing one outfit. You only need one name for people to call you.

But what about a brand?

I have too many interests and I love procrastinating, so my two favorite Chinese phrases have always been 三分鐘熱度 (“three-minute enthusiasm,” the way you’d say “short attention span”) and 大器晚成 (“late bloomer”).
But these phrases are too common. You’d have to add “Alex” to find me.

I’d just written a post about how fleeting interests are a superpower.
My head was spinning with all my hobbies.
I’ve always liked the RPG idea of collecting “sub-classes.” I wanted more job titles!

First ideas: 多邊形戰士 (“polygon warrior”) and 斜槓青年 (“slash youth,” the Chinese term for someone with multiple careers).
Not unique enough. Searching them wouldn’t lead to me.

What I needed was a unique combination of Chinese characters. Something you’d remember instantly, and that only I was using.

Then I remembered I’m approaching middle age.
斜槓中年 (“slash middle-ager”)? Sounds decent. Surely nobody’s using it?

Searched it. There’s already a book called that from 2021. (Damn.)

What about 斜槓少年 (“slash boy”)?

Google returned zero results.
People always say I look like a high schooler, and I plan to stay immature forever.
Others have Forever 21. I have Forever 18.
The more I looked at it, the more I liked it.

Way more resonant than “slash middle-ager.”
Manga has shōnen (boy) and seinen (young adult), but never chūnen (middle-aged).
The moment you add “middle-aged” to anything, it immediately becomes less cool.

Think about it. “Slash middle-ager” would need to become “slash senior citizen” in twenty years.
But “slash boy”? Timeless.

Being 35 and calling yourself a boy is a little embarrassing, sure.

But when you plan to be immature for life, what’s there to be embarrassed about?

Note: This is my Chinese brand name for Chinese search discoverability. My English content stays under “Alex Hsu.”

Alex Hsu

Indie developer, AI music miner, and aspiring writer.
Documenting my journey of personal growth and the pursuit of simplicity.