Why do some readers find local Taiwanese fiction awkward to read? Utsudo and her audience identified five reasons: details so familiar they’re hard to get absorbed in; local flavor that stays on the surface; old-fashioned writing trying too hard to sound young; readers used to translated books; and a mix of Taiwanese, American, Japanese and Chinese elements that never quite gels. To write Taiwanese flavor without being superficial, sprinkle in small details—a beef noodle stall, a large iced milk tea from a breakfast shop, fried chicken cutlet in hand, scooters weaving through traffic, jackets worn backward. And the blending of many cultures is itself part of Taiwan’s flavor.

Translated from Utsudo’s original Chinese column.

Is reading local fiction awkward?

This was a topic I discussed with everyone during a livestream. It came about when a student mentioned in passing that reading local Taiwanese fiction feels a bit awkward.

As a local creator, of course I care a lot about this. I asked him why, and he said: “When I see names that are too local, like ‘Wang Xiaoming’ or ‘Chen Xiaomei,’ or Taiwanese place names like ‘Taichung’ or ‘Kaohsiung,’ I instantly snap out of the story—it breaks the immersion.”

I wouldn’t pick a name like “Wang Xiaoming,” which is practically an urban legend. But in my later works, to be more local, I sometimes set stories in Taiwan and use real places, so Taiwanese place names are unavoidable.

Five reasons local fiction feels awkward

Later I asked my livestream audience about the “awkwardness of local fiction,” and we boiled it down to these reasons:

1. The details are so familiar that it’s hard to get emotionally invested

2. The local flavor stays on the surface

3. An old-fashioned voice trying too hard to sound young

4. Readers used to translated foreign books find local works hard to adjust to

5. It’s not quite Taiwanese, American, Japanese or Chinese—the balance is off

Characters with surface-level Taiwanese flavor

Most of these points are easy to picture, but I think the second one is worth discussing. Say that when I think of local things, I think of “blue-and-white flip-flops,” “tank tops” and “swearing.” If I made a character out of those three traits…

The image that pops into my head is a guy in a tank top and blue-and-white flip-flops, standing with a swagger, glaring over with a sneer and snapping, “What the f— are you looking at?!”

Sure, it’s very Taiwanese—but I wouldn’t like this character. If you do, well, I have nothing to say—everyone has their own taste XD

Why don’t I like a character like this? Because the Taiwanese flavor is too superficial. It’s like a “top student” who wears thick glasses, has long bangs, wears his uniform perfectly and always carries a few heavy books, yet has average grades and isn’t a class officer. In short, he looks like a top student, but in substance he’s just an ordinary person.

So I don’t get why, if you’re not going for character contrast or deliberately using a stock type, you’d insist on such a lopsided setup—especially one that isn’t even likable. As a supporting character he might get a laugh, but as a protagonist, I just can’t accept it.

Use small details to evoke a Taiwanese setting

So if you want Taiwanese flavor without being superficial, what can you do?

That day we also came up with the idea of cleverly using small details to evoke an “in Taiwan” setting.

For example, without spelling out that it’s Taiwan, you can mention a “beef noodle stall,” “a large iced milk tea from the breakfast shop,” “the protagonist casually holding a fried chicken cutlet,” or “begging to go eat braised pork rice by the temple”… huh, why is it all food? Taiwan really is a food paradise XD

As for traffic, scooters weaving through traffic and wearing jackets backward are pretty Taiwanese too. You’ll probably need to observe all walks of Taiwanese life today, but I believe you can write something that captures Taiwanese life and makes readers feel like they’re really there.

Of course, there are many other ways to show it. For example, ending sentences with the particle “nei” is one way to characterize someone.

A cultural melting pot is also Taiwanese flavor

As for being a mix of everything without fully committing to any one thing, honestly, that may also be part of Taiwan’s flavor. Because of our geography and history, we’re a melting pot of many cultures. And our history isn’t long, so there hasn’t been enough time to develop deep cultural roots—that’s why we end up in this hard-to-define state.

Think about other places—didn’t they, too, go through historical upheavals and the impact of new cultures, then gradually form their own culture over a long time? I think creative work is the same. We’re still in a transition period and need more experimentation and accumulation before it becomes something truly our own.

So as contemporary authors, we don’t need to rush. Just work hard on creating your own works and try to break through a little with each one. Maybe years of accumulation will make you an even better version of yourself.

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Further reading

• Previous: Hey! I Heard You’re a Writer on Ghost Island #256: You’ve Published a Book—Now What?
• Start from the beginning: Hey! I Heard You’re a Writer on Ghost Island #01: Utsudo’s Debut — A Road to the Dream Covered in Frost
• 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.