“To write is to share; to share is to be seen”: Jane Kuo, in conversation with Rebecca Yang

As a daughter of Taiwanese immigrants growing up in suburban Los Angeles County, I didn’t expect to find any literature that reflected my niche in life. That is, until I found Anna Zhang in Jane Kuo’s books In the Beautiful Country and Land of Broken Promises. Anna is a middle schooler who immigrates to the United States (which she calls “The Beautiful Country”) for the prospect of a better life. Instead, what she finds is a vastly different community—one with unfamiliar faces, discrimination, and strange customs. Through the two novels, we see her deal with the challenges of daily life and adaptations to a new culture, eventually reclaiming her voice and agency at the end of the two novels.

 

Now don’t get me wrong, Anna’s life still is very different from mine. Instead of working at a restaurant, my parents worked at shoe and makeup companies. Instead of learning the English language later in life, I grew up surrounded by it. Yet, beyond surface-level details, the same feelings of identity, assimilation, and dual culture was there. Anna’s struggle with expectations—placed by her parents, society, and school—as well as losing her Taiwanese heritage was insanely relevant to my life. Even the little references to Five-Spice Ribs, Chinese poetry, and tension between Chinese-Taiwanese relations made me smile in recognition. It was like I was alongside Anna and living her story with her.

 

The feeling of being seen reminds me why I write—to spark the same connection in others. Unlike other forms of communication, writing has the power to convey ideas with emotional empathy. It’s a chance to build a dialogue between the writer and reader, where they can see life through another person’s perspective. Even with those who aren’t of Taiwanese heritage, my writing allows me to express my culture and spread awareness. To write is to share. And hopefully, to share is to be seen. To let someone, even if it’s that one person who doesn’t believe they have any chance of representation, know that their narrative exists, is valid, and worthy of celebration.

 

RY: Although your books are told through brief poems, the story—and Anna’s voice—feels so complete and authentic. So much is explored through these vignettes (cultural assimilation, friendship tensions, the background of Anna’s parents), which flow seamlessly into one another. How are you able to pick the right moments to turn into poems and create such a comprehensive portrait of the immigration life? 

JK: Rebecca, thanks so much for your close reading of my books and for the incisive questions. I think it was not very difficult at all for me to pick the right moments to turn into poems because these were the moments that I have carried with me for the last 40, 45 years. I am a writer that very much approaches writing through feeling and I just went with the memories that I wanted to excavate, the moments that had the most sense of haunting. 

RY: I know Anna’s story is heavily inspired from your own life—in some ways, I’m able to sense that, as the book almost feels like a memoir. How did telling Anna’s story affect your own relationship with your past? 

JK: I had a writing teacher who once said – and I’m gonna paraphrase this and probably mess it up – but she said that writing a memoir is about answering a question. And so you’re right, even though these two books are fiction and there are many made-up elements, at the heart, the stories are memoir. I am very much writing about my own life experience. And this is where the quote from my writing teacher comes in, because I believe that the question that I was trying to answer in these two books was something along the lines of: did I have a happy childhood? Now, I know in some ways that’s a very difficult question to answer and there is the temptation to oversimplify, but I think that like most people, I have had a lot of conflicted feelings about my growing up years and there was something really beautiful about being able to write down my experience. It is as if I am my own witness, saying to myself and to anyone else who cares – this is what happened. 

RY: I love how Anna grows throughout these two novels. We sense her hopelessness at her situation turn into anger at the system and finally hope about her future. In a way, it seems like many immigrants in her situation would go through the same process—albeit possibly in a different order. Why did you choose to structure Anna’s arc in this way and how do you hope other immigrants can relate to her journey? 

JK: Well, in some ways, there are two things going on in the telling of the story. The first is that because these were going to be middle grade novels, I did feel that the books should end on a hopeful note. I don’t think that was extremely contrived of me, I mean, as I spoke about in the previous question, the books are like memoir, and I do look upon the trajectory of my life as a story of hope. 

Now I do want other immigrants to relate to my story but my primary purpose in writing is to tell the truth. If other immigrants or even other people who are not immigrants, can relate to my stories, then that is wonderful. But I certainly did not set out to make this a story that all immigrants can relate to. 

RY: Anna’s parents play such a pivotal role in her life. From her dad’s encouragement of poetry to her mom’s steady presence to their combined sacrifice for her dreams, what part did you enjoy the most about crafting their relationship? How did you balance the frustration and love that tugs at their family? 

JK: Oh, thanks so much for noticing the details surrounding the mom and dad in the story. In some ways, the books are a love letter to my parents. 

RY: The first book’s conflict revolves around the more tangible, obvious challenges of being an immigrant (economic struggles, bullying), whereas the second book takes a turn into the pressures of identity (dual cultures, career options). In the end, Anna chooses to rewrite her narrative, presenting a speech in front of her school. How do you see her growth evolving as she moves forward? 

JK: Well, the story in its present iteration, ends with the second book, Land of Broken Promises. I mean as a middle grade story, there isn’t really much more I wanted to say. Partly because writing is actually quite considered and time intensive for me – I’m a slow writer and so I have to be very interested in what I am writing about because it will have to hold my attention for years and years. That said, I am currently working on an adult memoir and in some sense that is definitely the continuation of Anna’s story, which as I’ve already established, is my story. In the memoir, I write about the body, and language, specifically my love for the English language in contrast to my parents’ struggle with the language. I write about themes of caregiving and identity, writing and the limits of storytelling, memory and love.



Rebecca Yang is a high schooler at Orange County School of the Arts. She is the LA County Youth Poet Ambassador and an editor at several magazines, including her school’s nationally recognized literary journal, Inkblot. A strong believer in the power of arts expression, she works to promote education and accessibility to the arts in her local community. Through poetry performances, she also seeks to uplift the Taiwanese narrative to the mainstream.

Jane Kuo is a Chinese and Taiwanese American writer who grew up in Los Angeles in the 1980s. Jane’s novels In the Beautiful Country and Land of Broken Promises are fictional stories inspired by the weekends and summers she spent working in her family’s fast food restaurant. Please visit her online at janekuo.com.

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