Translated from Utsudo’s original Chinese column.

Why is the column called “A Writer on Ghost Island”?While backpacking in New Zealand, Utsudo hitchhiked and was asked by a foreign traveler, “Are you famous?” She thought about how Europe’s publishing market is mature, with agents and international rights opportunities, while Taiwan’s market is small, with few readers and international rights hard to sell — so she named the column after “the ghost island of publishing” to express her frustration and her hope for change.

A column name explained only after thirty chapters

　　Hmm, I can already feel you rolling your eyes at your screen: thirty chapters in, and only now does she think to explain where the column’s name came from?

　　I’ll tell you right now!

　　Because I forgot to write it, hahahaha(gets kicked

　　Ahem, okay, back on track — time for serious business.

A strange encounter hitchhiking in New Zealand

　　About N years ago, a friend and I crossed the ocean to the Southern Hemisphere and spent a month traveling independently in New Zealand, very close to Antarctica. Prices there were high — the exchange rate was about 1:25, so even the most basic sandwich cost NT$250… So we poor souls lived extremely frugally, surviving on apples, whole-wheat toast and milk (conveniently covering fiber, carbs and protein), and our hearts fluttered every time we passed a church’s free Sunday meal.

　　In the end we shamelessly got in line, ahem.

　　And we even got to know some church folks through it (though I’m not religious), but that’s a digression.

　　Back then we’d leave before seven in the morning and get back close to midnight. Our biggest achievement was touring all of Auckland on folding bikes. We made lots of blunders, nearly got chased by the police (?), every day was tough, and we were lost all the time QQ

　　We didn’t think to bring a SIM card, so we were cut off from Taiwan for two whole weeks.

　　I often lamented: life in Taiwan was comfy, so why did we fly over ten hours just to live like beggars (boom

　　I remember once, the long-distance bus we planned to take left without us because we were a bit late. Not knowing what to do, we went back to our guesthouse for help, and the owner handed us a sign and told us to stand by the road and flag down a car… That’s right, beside the main roadflashing a legand sticking out a thumb.

　　That was mortifyingly embarrassing for me aaah!

　　The guesthouse owner said that if no one picked us up in thirty minutes, he’d drive over to get us — but someone picked us up within five minutes.

        Don’t worry, it wasn’t the police.

　　We were picked up by two guys fresh out of university, one German and one Belgian. We chatted in broken English in the car, and inevitably the conversation turned to work.

　　Back then I was still a total newbie who hadn’t left many footprints in Taiwan, and I was too shy to call myself a writer, but my friend bluntly said I was one (covers face

　　The profession clearly piqued their interest, but the Belgian’s very first question was:“Are you famous?”

　　That question made me so awkward — all I could do was stammer that I was just a newcomer.

　　Maybe to ease the awkwardness, the German in the passenger seat said: “It’s okay, everyone has to start somewhere. I hope I’ll see your work in Europe someday.”

　　↑Yes, my English actually isn’t great, so please let me skip the original wording XD

The gap between Taiwan’s and Europe’s publishing markets

　　Hearing that, I was flooded with mixed feelings.

　　Because Taiwan doesn’t have a market as big as Europe’s. In Europe, with English as a common language, book sales and distribution are more mature; there are even thriving professions like critics and literary agents, and more chances for screen adaptations or selling international rights.

　　Unlike Taiwan back then (it feels a little better now), where works could basically only be sold on the island. The industry chain wasn’t mature, the reading population was small, and the biggest market (across the strait) was basically look-but-don’t-touch. The chances of selling international rights were low, not to mention the possibility of being suppressed…

　　Generally, light novel rights seem to be sold mostly to Thailand and Indonesia, and only a rare few get that chance — let alone screen adaptations, of which there were no examples back then.

　　Compared with Europe, calling Taiwan the publishing industry’sghost islandis no exaggeration.

　　Years later, I recalled the feelings that experience gave me, so I gave the column its current title — a kind of lament, and a hope for change.

　　How I hope that one day, when Taiwan comes up, foreigners won’t think we’re part of Thailand, but will know through our works that in the Pacific there’s a small emerald working hard to shine.

       ↑Reportedly, thanks to the government’s effective marketing lately, that mix-up happens less often now — congrats XD

FAQ

Further reading (in Chinese)

• Previous: #29 (in Chinese)
• Next: #31 (in Chinese)
• Start from the beginning: #01 — Utsudo’s debut
• Column introduction
• Utsudo’s books

About the author

Utsudo is a Taiwanese light novelist and novelist VTuber with more than ten years in the industry and 40 commercially published print books. Her novel 《遺失的情書》 received a 2022 Ministry of Culture youth creative award. The 《嘿！聽說妳在鬼島當作家》 series records her experiences as a novelist in Taiwan.