I’ve been editing since early February. That was when the first editing notes arrived from Editor Iris. Then Editor Lorissa. Then Editors Noelle and Chandra. I’ve been editing at night after dinner, on weekends, and during our annual ski vacation. I wrote an acknowledgement and that got put through the copy editing filter also.

Throughout all this, the editors always say “But this is YOUR book. You don’t have to take our suggestions.” Right. Like I’m going to ignore the wisdom of people who have edited 12,000 books more than I have ever read, and who do this for a living.

Round 1 - Content/story edits: you know,  this is where you get feedback like:

• Trying using dialogue more to convey the characters’ personalities
  
• This character’s motivation is not clear enough
  
• It’s her best friend, why isn’t she confiding in her more?
  
• This is a turning point in the story, needs more drama
  
• (… and the dreaded) Is this plausible?
  

These are comments that make you think really hard about what’s going on with your characters, how they behave, and the plot. You can’t get away with being lazy and glossing over scenes. Yes, you want to ‘show and not tell’ , not spell things out and insult the reader's intelligence; you want them to connect the dots. But you can’t leave too much distance between the dots either. And let’s be honest with ourselves, writing buddies – sometimes we really haven’t done  what we should to develop our characters, do we?

I sent in the content edits, received wonderful and resoundingly positive feedback on the changes, and I was feeling pretty darn good. This is story development stuff. Plot, characters, dialogue. Everything else after this is just cleanup, right?

Round 2 - Line edits: Somehow I was under the delusion that once content edits were done, the worst was over. Because Editor Lorissa was going to send me her line edits: line by line suggestions about words appearing too often, inconsistencies, confused or confusing sentences, more/less descriptive language. She was going to do the hard work. All I’d have to do was accept or reject her suggestions. Easy.

Then came the line edits:

• This dialogue feels a bit stilted, too formal
  
• Add a bit more nuance to your exposition/explanations to keep this from feeling flat
  
• What is her tone and manner when she says this?
  
• Cut this —you don’t need to tell us again
  
• This feels a bit general or generic, changed for more immediacy and vividness
  
• This feels a bit overwritten, metaphor a bit heavy
  

And I’m not even going to get into how often I use certain words. By the time I’d finished reading through the line edits, I had no idea why my editor had bought this book.

“It’s a terrible book,” I wailed to my husband. “It’s full of bad writing!”

(I should mention that “wail” was one of the words I used too often). 

Hubby pointed out that line editing is part of the process for a reason. Obviously lots of other writers need line editing too, or else why would the line editor role even exist?

This was where the book lost about 5,000 words and I received a major lesson in the craftsmanship of less-is-more. The editors were thrilled with the results and wanted to push ahead at top speed on the copy edits. Copy edits! Yaay!

Round 3 - Copy edits: It was going to be easy going, I was sure, because the copy editor would be checking for historical accuracy, making sure of consistency in timelines, word usage. You know, small stuff I’ve checked over umpteen times. I even sent along a spreadsheet that mapped events in the timeline of the novel against real events in history -- with Wikipedia links to the historical events. Editor Chandra was going to do the hard work. All I’d have to do was accept or reject her suggestions. Easy. And then ... 

• Is this the right word to use in this situation? Appropriate for the era?
  
• There are three instances of this word on the same page, need to vary
  
• This description used again 14 chapters down, need to vary
  
• Who wrote/translated this poem? Need to get permission to use if not author’s own
  
• Is this the title of a real or fictional song? 
  

I mean, I thought I had done a pretty good job by checking to make sure the perfume one character uses (Shalimar) was actually available in 1928 and that the roses in the garden were old-fashioned varieties. Nope, copy editor got even more granular than that with the “real or not” questions. To the point where I wailed “It’s about a ghost with three souls. It’s FICTION!”

And by the way, apparently Wikipedia is not sufficient proof of historical fact.

Big lesson learned: When I work on my next novel, I am going to document every, single, freaking historical detail and where I read it, or where I found documented evidence of something, even if I already knew it.

Copy editing is now over. Next comes proof reading. Which I know will be a breeze because after years of business writing, my spelling, grammar, and punctuation are pretty good and … hmmm. OK. 

But yaaay, proofreading! It's the final step and the light at the end of the editing tunnel. Did you ever think it was possible to get so excited about proofreading? Believe me, I'm excited.

If you like this blog, please do me the honor of tweeting or liking (below). Leaving a comment is great, too! In fact, it's the best! -- Janie

Normally, I  put author interviews online the week after writing the book review. However, this interview with Tom, about his own story, is such a terrific accompaniment to the book review I decided to publish it at the same time.

JC: Tom, thanks for taking the time to do this interview. I have so many questions I want to ask, but let’s just start with what you’re up to now. What’s keeping you busy these days?

TC: After CHINA: Portrait of a People came out, I was on a high about authoring coffee table books, so I used my advance royalties to buy fancy new camera equipment and spent a solid year backpacking all across India, just like I had done in China. Unbeknownst to me, India’s infrastructure is about a century behind China’s; by the end of the year I had only covered 1/3 of the entire geography – and found myself once again insolvent. 

So I returned to China and attempted to delve into photojournalism, but, much to my dismay, the bottom had just dropped out of the media and publishing industries; there was no more money in photography. You can imagine all my long, long sighs at that time. During those long periods between photo assignments, I started pursuing other literary projects: fiction, non-fiction, illustrated, etc. 

One of those projects, an anthology book of short stories about foreign expats in China titled Unsavory Elements, of which I am the editor, has just been published by Earnshaw Books in Shanghai and includes original pieces from legends like Simon Winchester as well as emerging writers. I’ve just signed with Asia Literary Agency and they are currently shopping my other projects around.

(NOTE: Tom is also a new dad! Read his Huffington Post blog)

JC: Your portraits feel so intimate. Did you end up getting to know some of your subjects? Can you share some of those experiences?

I tried to get to know pretty much everyone I came in contact with during my travels. The photography was just an afterthought. For instance, I spent a week in Zengchong, a remote village in eastern Guizhou province, living with the local leader of the Dong minority tribe there. In southern Gansu, I befriended a family of Tibetan Buddhist pilgrims: they invited me into their lodgings, offered me yak butter tea, and we discussed, as well as we could everything about ourselves. 

The photo I took near the end of my visit with them turned out to be probably my favorite or them all. The people of China’s countryside are profoundly genial and warm; I felt that I had friends and family in every new place I traveled through.

JC: Curating 800 photos from a collection of 10,000 sounds formidable. How did you even begin to work out the selection criteria  and write the text?

It was a daunting task, but I had fun with it. I went down to Hong Kong and spent a month living in a closet-sized room in the infamous immigrant ghetto, Chungking Mansions. At night I’d just hang out on the front steps with all the Africans and Indians eating curry, or going to Wan Chai to party. By day I’d ferry across the harbor to my publisher Blacksmith Books’ offices on Hollywood Road and, from dawn till dusk, sifted through all those images until my eyes bled. 

It wasn’t just about finding the prettiest pictures; it was about arranging the photos into a thematic progression of my 35,000-mile journey from coast to coast. It was emotionally taxing to have to choose which pictures to use because, as the photographer, each and every photo had a special story behind it, but I was grateful to have a publisher who kept me in check. After the pictures were distilled down to around 800, I returned to Beijing and spent another month writing the captions and provincial chapter introductions. Some are historic summaries, but I also weave in personal anecdotes, first-person profiles, as well as some poetry. 

The publisher then submitted everything to a designer and the result is this brick-sized book. If and when the foreign rights are sold someday, it’s my hope that they can print it as a hardbound edition, and in a larger format.

JC: This is probably an unfair question but if you were to do this trip again, are there any places where you’d spend more time?

I wouldn’t change a thing about my trip. Every person I met and every place I visited came into my life for a reason. If I had spent an extra day, even an extra hour, longer in any one place, then I would have missed out on all subsequent opportunities, like a butterfly effect. That said, there are several villages that I’d love to go back to and just live in, like Zengchong in Guizhou province, and parts of Tibet. 

I can’t really understand wealthy people who hole up in their mansions when there’s an entire world out there to be explored and enjoyed. If I were independently wealthy, I’d go live everywhere and anywhere, take photos of it all, and write books about it.

Normally I review novels. Stories. And I’ve decided CHINA: Portrait of a People by travel photographer Tom Carter qualifies because every one of his photographs holds an amazing story. I am reviewing this book because in a country of 1.3 billion, it`s clear that Carter managed to make a personal connection with each person he photographed, bringing a sense of intimacy to this collection of 800 photographs. Plus, Carter’s epic, two-year backpacking journey through China is as much of a story as any of his photographs.

Over four thousand years of recorded history, entire cultures have been absorbed into China. I’ve always known, intellectually, that China is a country of many ethnic minorities. I know that certain dialects out on the western edges of the country owe more to Turkish than Mandarin. But it’s Carter’s book that has put faces, architectures,  landscapes -- and emotions -- to those minorities, and for me that’s the most wonderful thing about this book. Away from the urban centres where centuries-old homes are being bulldozed to build high-rise office towers, China is still a nation rich in diversity: 56 distinct cultures and 33 provinces, most of them still rural. I feel grateful they have not vanished. I worry that they are vanishing.

Most travel books look  as though they were commissioned by a tourism board: beautiful scenery, unique architecture, regional costumes and food. Carter never veers away from the quotidian that gives context to the people he portrays. There are images of unexpected and beautiful scenery and plenty of colourful costumes, but also harsh landscapes of extreme climates, poverty, ugly industrial towns, the good and bad of Western influences. We come face to face with ordinary people striving with great energy to improve their lives, trying to find some niche where they can earn a livelihood. There are families, young hipsters and elderly farmers, fat babies and sooty-faced miners.

The book itself is thoughtfully organized by province. Each section opens with a simple map to position the province and the locations photographed for the reader. There is a brief introduction to each province that highlights its historical significance and unique qualities. Sometimes there is poetry or quotes from someone Carter met, or an anecdote. Overall, it feels like a very personal, multi-faceted travel diary crossed with a social studies book (and I loved Social Studies at school, by the way, so this is a compliment).

What’s truly amazing is that Tom Carter did not set out to create this book. In 2004, he went backpacking across China for a year, with the intent of learning about the lesser-known regions that tour buses ignore. Photography was just a way to document his trip. On a very limited budget, he traveled the way locals would travel – by bus or train. After that first year, he got a book deal to publish his photos. That was the impetus for his second year of travel: to make sure he had captured enough images for a definitive collection. As a result, CHINA: Portrait of a People, now in its second printing, has been called the most comprehensive book of photography on modern China ever published by a single author. 

Tom shares some of his photography on Flickr. This article from The Atlantic also features some wonderful shots from the book.

If you like this blog, please do me the honor of tweeting or liking (below). Leaving a comment is great, too! In fact, it's the best! -- Janie

“I didn't realize authors have editors in different countries. Does that mean the Canadian version might be different than the US or British version? How does that work?”

That was a question from my Facebook page and although I haven’t been through the whole process yet, and can only provide an answer based on a statistically incomplete sample of one experience, this is what I know.

Versions: Fortunately since both my editors are with HarperCollins (Canada and US), they will be exchanging notes to (a) avoid having me edit two versions of the book and (b) end up with two different North American versions.

Fortunately also, my editors Iris (Tupholme) and Jennifer (Brehl) have ‘shared’ authors before so they have been through this process and I’m hoping the only difference between the editions will be Canadian English versus US English spelling, which is just a proof-reading exercise.

Foreign editions: It’s funny, but my agent is based in California and their office considers HarperCollins Canada a foreign sale! I have an Italian publisher (Fabbri Editori Life) and the foreign language publishers wait until the North American manuscript is final, gone to print, and they will translate that version.

Book covers: Definitely different per publisher. For one thing, in translation, the title may end up completely different in meaning to the original. One of the fun things about following authors on Facebook is that they put up the covers for their foreign language editions – and you get to see how the title has changed and how each art department envisions the appeal of the story.

If you like this blog, please do me the honor of tweeting or liking (below). Leaving a comment is great, too! In fact, it's the best! -- Janie  

I mean, what they do FOR you.

Thursday was a really special day because I spent two hours on the phone with my editor, Iris Tupholme.  Wow, what a process. One reason for this blog is to share with my writing buddies what it’s like getting published so here goes.

First of all, the only people who have read the entire completed manuscript for Three Souls before any publishers saw it, and who are industry professionals are: Agent Jill Marr, author Nancy Richler, and my amazing  freelance development editor Jennifer Pooley, who helped me both tighten up and deepen the novel before Agent Jill sent it out to publishers. 

Now that I’ve been through a story development/editorial session twice (with Jen and with Iris), here are some observations.

Take Valium: There is a peculiar and unique gastrointestinal sensation when that email with the subject field “Editorial Notes” lands in your Inbox. Anticipation laced with thick streaks of dread is one way of describing it. Actually, I probably felt worse last year when Jen’s notes arrived because there was every chance that she would recommend dismembering the manuscript. Whereas this time, I said to myself comfortingly, Iris has bought the book already. How much could she hate it if she believes in it? On the other hand, what will she want me to change to make it more marketable? A tidy, happy ending?

Editors Listen: Thinking about my phone call with Iris, the overwhelming impression is one of intense listening. On her side of the call. I babbled, she listened. I interrupted, she listened. I went off on tangents about Chinese families, she listened. The poor woman listened for two hours. It didn’t seem to matter what I talked about, she listened.

They Want YOUR Story: Then, out of all that babbling, she drew out different approaches for improving the story: the characters, their motivations, or adding tension. And because these were all coming out from my own ideas and thought process, the suggestions felt familiar and right, not an intrusion on the integrity of the book's concept. Editors want the story to be yours, not theirs. They might have suggestions, but they also always say “But in the end, it has to be your book”. They really mean it.

You Understand Your Own Book Better: You wrote the book so you know the characters and their motivations better than anyone else, right? Probably right, but an editor makes you think more deeply about them. Not to change them, but to round out your writing, add more details and dialogue, so that you are revealing more dimensions of the characters you’re writing about. I think that our stories are so obvious to us that we don’t realize readers need more context or that the story would sing more loudly for readers with a few more hints about family dynamics. I think this is particularly true for novels with historical settings, because you can’t assume everyone has the same level of familiarity with the time, place, and social mores. Going through the exercise of prodding at your characters make you understand them even better.

They’re Experienced at Handling Authors: Editors are professionals who’ve led thousands of recalcitrant/moody/over-caffeinated authors through the editing process. Fellow writers, take note. When I wailed that it’s hard for me to spot the “show don’t tell” shortcomings in my own book, Iris suggested the following:

• Think more deeply about the characters and their motivations and edit. Once you have a stronger handle on them ... 
  
• Layer  more subtext into the dialogue and narratives and ...  
  
• Read again for “show don’t tell” and those spots might jump out because now they will seem redundant  
  

So in a couple of weeks, we need to make a go or no-go decision: can I make my editing deadlines (about a month from now) so that the book can go to print sooner rather than later? 

I’ll be kind of offline from blogging and social media while I work on revisions because I really want to get this book put away (for one thing, it’s hard thinking about Book #2 with THREE SOULS still sitting on my desk). But I have way more confidence now than last weekend, before the phone call with Iris. Now there’s guidance and direction, and some pretty practical ideas about how to proceed.

Then after I got off the phone, I ran screaming around the house. According to another author friend, she runs around screaming too, so this is acceptable author behaviour. OMG, it’s really happening! 

If you like this blog, please do me the honor of tweeting or liking (below). Leaving a comment is great, too! In fact, it's the best! -- Janie  

So thrilled that bestselling author Lisa See took time out of her busy schedule to do this interview. She discusses what led to her writing the first thriller in her Red Princess mystery series, Flower Net. Great insights and some great advice for writers too! 

JC:  What’s keeping you busy right now? 

LS: I’m SUPER busy right now.  I’m just finishing up my next novel, China Dolls.  It’s set in Chinese nightclubs that were popular in the United States during the 1930s and 1940s.  They were a bit like the Cotton Club in that they had Chinese performers but mostly Caucasian customers. The performers traveled all around the country in what was called the “chop suey circuit.”  They were billed as the Chinese Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, the Chinese Sophie Tucker, the Chinese Frank Sinatra, the Chinese Houdini, etc.  I’ve been interviewing performers and visiting archives to see their costumes, old scrapbooks, and photographs.  I’m having so much fun with it.

But I do a lot of other things as well.  I’m the president of a Los Angeles City Commission: the El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historical Monument Authority.  We oversee the city’s birthplace.  I’m also on a couple of boards.  I think that it’s important for writers to be a part of their community.  (Otherwise, we’re inside all day, staring at our computer screens!)  Your next question is about writing what you love, but you also need to write what you know, so writers need to be out in the world. (Otherwise, how would we know anything?)

But like everyone else, I have real life too.  So this week we’re starting two big house projects that will be messy and loud.  At the same time, I have a bunch of garden tasks that need to get done this week.  I’m also visiting two book clubs on Skype, I have my step-sister coming to visit for a week, and I’m taking my mom to the doctor.  Today I went with my son to look at open houses.  Looking ahead over the few weeks, I’m going out of town to give talks in Mexico, Arizona, and Alabama.  I need to exercise and make dinner every night too.  Life!  Man, oh, man!  And no matter what, I’ve still got that big book deadline.

JC: Write what you love, they say. Are thrillers your first love? Or did you see Flower Net as a way to write about China?

LS: I really like thrillers.  I love that there’s a murder somewhere up toward page one and that you keep turning the pages to find out who the killer is and what the conspiracy is. I particularly those thrillers that are set in a different country or time period because, as you’re turning the pages to find out who the killer is, you’re also learning a lot about a time, a place, a culture.  Thrillers and mysteries provide some of the most vibrant writing out there.  I love that feeling when you have to turn the page, have to read the next chapter, and have to stay up until three in the morning to finish a book.  It takes real skill and finesse to accomplish those things as a writer.

But none of that is why I wrote Flower Net.  My husband is an attorney and he represented China back in the day. He had a case that resulted in our spending an evening in a very swanky karaoke bar in Beijing in the middle of winter.  This was back in something like 1994, so China was very, very different than it is today.  Anyway, we were with all these agents from the Ministry of Public Security -- China’s version of the FBI.  

Now there’s one thing you can say about people in law enforcement: they basically all look alike, no matter where you go in the world.  They have a particular build, they carry weapons, they wear black leather jackets, they have their tough-guy attitudes.  But these guys also had something else.  They were covered in gold: big gold Rolexes, big gold rings, big gold necklaces and bracelets, because they were corrupt but they were up front about it.  They were getting up to sing sappy love songs in these gorgeous tenor voices, with the tears streaming down their faces. 

If you’re a writer and you get to experience something like that, there’s only one thing you can think: This is the best material and I’ve got it!  

JC:  The information writers turn up during research often make their way into the story as details or even plot elements. Was there anything during your Flower Net research that changed your approach to the story? Or some detail you just knew had to be included? 

LS: I’d say that the visit to the karaoke bar was huge. Finding the house that become the model for “the house across the lake,” where those very high up, very secret men meet, was a happy moment.  Again, I was going to China—usually in the dead of winter—when China was still very quiet.  

For example, we were in Beijing the winter after the Tiananmen Square incident.  During that stay, we saw only one other foreign couple.  My favorite thing to do during those winter visits was to go to the lake behind the Forbidden City, where families ice skate.  There was no Zamboni to make the ice perfect.  Rather, families would throw down some water to create a smooth path about fifteen feet long and two feet wide on which to skate.  Chinese music played from speakers that were hung in the willow trees.  Coal smoke hung heavy in the air.  I was glimpsing the lives of real people, so of course I had to use all that! The opening scene of Flower Net takes place on the lake, where families have gathered to ice skate. A little girl falls and comes face to face with a body frozen in the ice. 

JC: Your third Red Princess thriller, Dragon Bones, came out in 2003 and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan in 2005; that was a complete shift in genre, style, and voice. What triggered the story idea that made you write about a totally different time and situation?

LS: Writing straight fiction is much easier than writing mysteries or thrillers. Writing the mysteries helped me tremendously with Snow Flower.  With mysteries, you have to keep focused on the plot.  You can’t overlook a single detail.  It’s a very tight form and pacing is extremely important.  Today, straight fiction, especially women’s fiction, has very little plot. It’s just a slice of life with an emotional change.  I personally prefer novels that have enough plot that I’m anxious to turn the pages.  

For Snow Flower, the plot line was: why does Lily feel such regret, and what happened between her and Snow Flower to create their rift? You see, it’s still a mystery. I had to place clues about Snow Flower’s upbringing, about the hardships of her life, and what the secret message on the fan actually meant throughout the novel for it to work.  Writing the mysteries has helped me with the pacing, characters, and emotional arcs of all the novels that have come since. Really, if you look at all my novels, you’ll find secrets that need to be revealed. 

To answer your second question, I first heard about nu shu—the women’s secret writing—in 1999 when I reviewed a book for the Los Angeles Times on the history of footbinding. It was just a short three or four page mention, but I thought, how could this exist and I didn’t know about it?  I looked nu shu up on the Internet.  At the time there wasn’t much about nu shu out there. (Now there’s quite a bit.)  It took me a long time before I realized I would write a novel based on nu shu.  I read all this academic stuff written by scholars and I went to southwestern Hunan province to learn what I could.  What I discovered was that the scholars—as brilliant as they are—always seemed to leave out the emotions inherent in the secret language.  It was something used by real women who had real emotions.  I thought a novel would be the best way to explore that.

JC: Is there some piece of advice about writing or the writing life that you wish someone had given you when you first started out? 

LS: Writing is a business and you have to approach it as a business.  People always ask, “How do you have the discipline to sit down and write every day?”  It’s easy!  I have a deadline and this is what I do—it’s my business.  I’ve never missed a deadline and I don’t plan on missing one in the future either.  That means you can’t wait until the last minute to write a book (this isn’t like writing an essay for school or cramming for finals), and you can’t wait for inspiration to strike (because you could wait a long time).  Writing is an art, and art—painting, playing the violin, being a world-class dancer or even tennis player—requires daily practice.  You’re not going to be great every day. You may not even be good every day.  But you have to keep writing every day to get to the good stuff. 

I have five people read my manuscripts.  I divide their criticism into three categories.  A third of the time they’re right.  A third of the time they’re completely wrong.  And a third of the time I need to look at something, because it isn’t working. A third, a third, a third keeps me sane through the editing process.

I always tell aspiring writers that they should try to do one thing each week that makes them so nervous and scared that they feel sick to their stomachs.  Why would I recommend that? Because writing is scary. Being edited is scary. Getting published is scary. Going out there and having people read your books is scariest of all.  We need to learn to be brave.  Sometimes we have to learn to be brave in little steps.  Doing one thing a week that scares you and makes you feel sick to your stomach could be as simple or as small as writing a fan letter to another writer, visiting a neighborhood you’ve never gone to before, volunteering to speak publically, or venturing into a restaurant that serves food you’ve never tried before. (Cambodian food? Himalayan food?) We take baby steps to build our confidence and courage, so that later we can do readings in front of crowds, withstand criticism, or travel to someplace truly extreme to do research.

Lastly, I’d say that you need to be passionate about what you’re writing.  Writing a book isn’t like a one-night stand. It’s more like a marriage.  You’re in it for the long haul.  Again, there are going to be disappointments along the way. You’re going to get bad reviews.   You’re going to get stuck sometimes.  (I was just stuck for three days, and today I figured out how to fix the chapter.  Even though I was stuck, I used the time to edit another part of the book so I’d still be moving forward.) Fabulous things will also happen.  You just don’t know going in, just as you don’t know what will happen after you say “I do.”  It’s your passion and your love that keeps you from stabbing your husband when he leaves his socks on the floor one too many times.  And it’s your passion and your love that keeps you writing—and positive about your talent and your story—even in the darkest moments.

In Beijing’s Bei Hai Park, a frozen lake yields the body of a young man who turns out to be the American ambassador’s son. The Ministry of Public Security (MPS) sends Inspector Liu Hulan to deal with the crime and almost immediately (and inevitably) her efforts are complicated by political considerations. 

Off the coast of California on a ship crammed full of illegal immigrants, U.S. Attorney David Stark finds the corpse of the son of the sixth richest man in China. When clues surface to link the young men’s deaths, the State Department sends David to China to be part of a joint investigation – paired with Liu Hulan, his former lover. As the investigation moves from Beijing to Los Angeles and back, the murders of suspects and informants on both sides of the Pacific make it clear that whoever is behind the original deaths has a long reach.

Flower Net  by Lisa See takes full advantage of the confusing world of modern China to create a thriller where a society in flux features as prominently as murders, triads, and the uneasy rekindling of a romance.  Her writing made me feel as though I was getting an insider's tour of Beijing, peeking into doorways of old-style hutong  residential compounds and the lives of ordinary citizens or gawking at a glitzy nightclub for the young Chinese elite.  

More than that, See delivers insights into contemporary Chinese society: the huge gap between the classes in what is supposed to be a classless society, the undercurrent of resentment and guilt that persists from the Cultural Revolution, the bribery and “back-door ways” employed by those willing to take the risk, and the elaborate courtesies which mask true intentions.

For Western readers, Hulan is a wonderful guide to 1990’s China. She is a Red Princess, the daughter of an elite Communist Party official, wealthy enough to live in luxury, if she chose. But she has also spent time in a poor farming village, working and living like a peasant. Furthermore, she has been educated in the United States, and is able to acknowledge China’s problems from a Western point of view; but her Chinese sensibilities remain intact, allowing her to navigate through the labyrinth of bureaucracy that is Beijing’s MPS.

David is not exactly the bumbling foreigner, but his direct manners prevent him from hearing the subtext behind polite conversations. When Hulan “decodes” for him, we realize that even she can’t be sure of the messages being conveyed; layers of meaning like carved screens hide the truth.

The bonus about this thriller is that you learn so much about 1990’s China. Since then the country has charged ahead with urbanization and expanded its economic zones even more; the disparities between remote rural communities and the big cities are more pronounced than ever. Nonetheless, knowing about neighbourhood committees, residency permits, the destruction of hutong compounds, and other daily realities provide helpful context for understanding China’s current social issues.

If you’re like me, you probably thought Snow Flower and the Secret Fan was Lisa See’s first book. Nope, the three Red Princess thrillers: Flower Net, The Interior, and Dragon Bones were all written before Snow Flower. They’re a complete change of genre -- even voice -- and it’s hard to believe they’re by the same author. Flower Net was a nominee for the Edgar Award by the Mystery Writers of America for best first fiction. It’s a well-plotted story without a single boring character, fast-paced and thoroughly enjoyable -- one of those detective novels you finish reading with a sigh of satisfaction.  

What I Learned About Writing from Reading This Book

At this point in my development as a writer, I evoke time and place through descriptive language or by pulling in details to help the reader visualize. Now I understand how dialogue can also add atmosphere to time and place.  

There is a scene in Flower Net  which made this tactic jump out at me: Hulan is at a travel agency buying a pair of plane tickets to the Sichuanese city of Chengdu. She and David are trying to escape their watchers. The travel agent tries to interest her in a scenic tour of Chengdu, and Hulan declines, saying she just needs to get there on the next flight because her mother is very ill.

The woman regarded Hulan. “You can’t be Sichuanese. Your Beijinger accent is too good.”

This one line of dialogue synthesizes the travel agent’s absolute belief that she is entitled to question, doubt, and report on her fellow citizen. Throughout Flower Net, there is a sense of menace that insinuates every scene. Anyone, from old ladies who run the Neighborhood Committees to officials in the highest tiers of government, could be reporting on your movements. While See’s descriptions immediately immerse you in the world of the novel, it is her use of such small comments that reinforces atmosphere -- in this case the uncomfortable feeling of a society acclimatized to surveillance and intimidation.

I know that an author can achieve a lot using dialogue. It can be the hardest-working element of a story. Dialogue is something I find difficult to write. But for a start, I will try and evaluate whether there is opportunity for a piece of dialogue to do double-duty: not only to move the story forward or reveal something about the character, but also to add emotional texture to the time and place of the story.

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