Catherine C. Wu's Blog
August 28, 2025
How to Use Backstory to Supercharge Your Present-Day Plot
Below is the full Q& A of Jacqueline Cangro's interview focused on the craft aspect of The Moon Goddess's Smile
https://open.substack.com/pub/jacquel...
https://open.substack.com/pub/jacquel...
June 3, 2025
The Fruit from a Desire For Petty Revenge--the backstory of The Moon Goddess's Smile
During the author's pop-up event at Happy Medium Books Cafe last Saturday, a reader asked me where I got the idea for my debut novel. Since she found the backstory fascinating, I’d like to share it with everyone. The embarrassing truth is that the seed of this novel is a desire for petty revenge.
I’ve always dreamed of becoming a storyteller. Growing up in China, I heard a gold mine of Chinese myths, legends, and fantastical stories. However, my parents forbade me from studying Liberal Arts because of a family tragedy: In 1957, my grandfather disappeared shortly after he wrote an article mildly criticizing the Chinese Communist Party. Out of fear, my parents even discouraged me from keeping a diary. Long story short, I became a biochemical engineer in China. In the wake of the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989, I came to the United States as a graduate student in biomedical sciences. Then, after NIH cut our lab funding in the early 1990s, I eventually became a podiatrist. As a Chinese immigrant, I was wired to always choose a “safe” career to make a living.
Fate intervened again when I visited my parents in China eight years ago. Over a family banquet, I learned that two local newspapers had published untrue stories about my late grandfather. The innuendos bordered on character assassination. The entire clan was upset, but there was nothing they could do about it. Thus, I decided to set the record straight.
After honing my writing skills at Grubstreet in Boston, I started writing about my beloved grandpa. Soon, I realized that my family’s survival stories in a tumultuous century can be a case study of recent Chinese history, and the underlying theme of enlightenment-seeking is universal.
When I told a friend about my novel, he asked me: “What makes your story different from Amy Tan’s Joy Luck Club?” For many Americans, that novel, published in 1989, is the gold standard of Chinese American literature.
I considered the question tricky, comparing apples and oranges. However, it’s a fair question for readers to ask. Well, first of all, the resilience of a Chinese family is only one of the motifs of my novel, and the mother-daughter relationship isn’t a central theme. Secondly, my story has a rich tapestry, with “complex interplay of culture and identity at many levels.” The cultural identity struggle is even more relevant in today’s America. I used a homecoming journey in 2012 as the story spine, weaving in my own experience as a conflicted first-generation Chinese American navigating cultural clashes. A chapter titled “A Scientist Without a Border” was written five years before our current escalation of Sino-American tension. Still, it remains excruciatingly poignant in 2025. Lastly, my book celebrates the human potential of reaching enlightenment during a crisis. Mei, the protagonist, struggles throughout her life to understand the deeper meaning of an unusual Chinese myth (of an ordinary housewife who became the Moon Goddess by accident). When she finally deciphers the mysterious smile of the tragic Moon Goddess, her self-discovery journey also comes full circle. Despite some dark moments, the novel ends on an uplifting note.
This is a long-winded way to explain how my petty revenge evaporated into the universe during my writing journey. Writing is not merely cathartic. I genuinely believe I’ve grown into a more expansive person because of the process. At least, I’m closer to reaching my own enlightenment someday.
Two bonus takeaways from the meandering journey of an ultra-late boomer:
When you are really mad at someone or something, take a writing class. It is cheaper and saner than hiring a lawyer or seeing a therapist. And, you might even get amazing results since you are passionate about an issue.
Not a single minute in one’s life should be considered a waste of time. There is a silver lining to my long years in STEM: Even though I remember nothing from my study of Calculus and Linear Algebra, the knowledge retained from “Mechanical Drawing” really came in handy when I tried to assemble IKEA furniture according to their diagrams.
I’ve always dreamed of becoming a storyteller. Growing up in China, I heard a gold mine of Chinese myths, legends, and fantastical stories. However, my parents forbade me from studying Liberal Arts because of a family tragedy: In 1957, my grandfather disappeared shortly after he wrote an article mildly criticizing the Chinese Communist Party. Out of fear, my parents even discouraged me from keeping a diary. Long story short, I became a biochemical engineer in China. In the wake of the Tiananmen Square Massacre in 1989, I came to the United States as a graduate student in biomedical sciences. Then, after NIH cut our lab funding in the early 1990s, I eventually became a podiatrist. As a Chinese immigrant, I was wired to always choose a “safe” career to make a living.
Fate intervened again when I visited my parents in China eight years ago. Over a family banquet, I learned that two local newspapers had published untrue stories about my late grandfather. The innuendos bordered on character assassination. The entire clan was upset, but there was nothing they could do about it. Thus, I decided to set the record straight.
After honing my writing skills at Grubstreet in Boston, I started writing about my beloved grandpa. Soon, I realized that my family’s survival stories in a tumultuous century can be a case study of recent Chinese history, and the underlying theme of enlightenment-seeking is universal.
When I told a friend about my novel, he asked me: “What makes your story different from Amy Tan’s Joy Luck Club?” For many Americans, that novel, published in 1989, is the gold standard of Chinese American literature.
I considered the question tricky, comparing apples and oranges. However, it’s a fair question for readers to ask. Well, first of all, the resilience of a Chinese family is only one of the motifs of my novel, and the mother-daughter relationship isn’t a central theme. Secondly, my story has a rich tapestry, with “complex interplay of culture and identity at many levels.” The cultural identity struggle is even more relevant in today’s America. I used a homecoming journey in 2012 as the story spine, weaving in my own experience as a conflicted first-generation Chinese American navigating cultural clashes. A chapter titled “A Scientist Without a Border” was written five years before our current escalation of Sino-American tension. Still, it remains excruciatingly poignant in 2025. Lastly, my book celebrates the human potential of reaching enlightenment during a crisis. Mei, the protagonist, struggles throughout her life to understand the deeper meaning of an unusual Chinese myth (of an ordinary housewife who became the Moon Goddess by accident). When she finally deciphers the mysterious smile of the tragic Moon Goddess, her self-discovery journey also comes full circle. Despite some dark moments, the novel ends on an uplifting note.
This is a long-winded way to explain how my petty revenge evaporated into the universe during my writing journey. Writing is not merely cathartic. I genuinely believe I’ve grown into a more expansive person because of the process. At least, I’m closer to reaching my own enlightenment someday.
Two bonus takeaways from the meandering journey of an ultra-late boomer:
When you are really mad at someone or something, take a writing class. It is cheaper and saner than hiring a lawyer or seeing a therapist. And, you might even get amazing results since you are passionate about an issue.
Not a single minute in one’s life should be considered a waste of time. There is a silver lining to my long years in STEM: Even though I remember nothing from my study of Calculus and Linear Algebra, the knowledge retained from “Mechanical Drawing” really came in handy when I tried to assemble IKEA furniture according to their diagrams.
May 15, 2025
three-day 99cents sale of my eBook
Hi, my dear fellow readers,
Thank you so much for showing your interest in my debut book and entering the Goodreads Giveaway. Since only 100 readers were chosen among the 1500 plus potential readers, I decide to run a promotional sale. For three days, The Moon Goddess's Smile will be available for 99 cents on Amazon. But the sale will end on Saturday May 18th at midnight.
Also, the paperback will be released on Monday May 19th.
I hope you will enjoy my book and write your honest feedback...
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
Thank you so much for showing your interest in my debut book and entering the Goodreads Giveaway. Since only 100 readers were chosen among the 1500 plus potential readers, I decide to run a promotional sale. For three days, The Moon Goddess's Smile will be available for 99 cents on Amazon. But the sale will end on Saturday May 18th at midnight.
Also, the paperback will be released on Monday May 19th.
I hope you will enjoy my book and write your honest feedback...
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
May 6, 2025
A Model Minority's Thoughts on Asian American & Pacific Islander Heritage Month
As “the model minorities”, we celebrate “our” month and take pride in our cultural contribution to the melting pot. In private, however, we also harbor mixed feelings. On the one hand, we savor the month-long honor bestowed upon us; on the other hand, we try to vanquish this lingering fear that we remain today, and will continue to be in the foreseeable future, the underdog in American society.
So far, no one has appointed me as a spokesperson for the vastly diverse people crammed together under this gigantic “API” umbrella. After all, I’m from only one subgroup, the first-generation Chinese American. But I can assure you that this unsettling feeling is real and universal among my cohort. Yes, we have come a long way and achieved many historical milestones. Yet, looking up, we see the same bulletproof glass ceilings we can never crack.
Why am I so pessimistic about our future? Because we are endowed and cursed in equal measure. Our cultural heritage is a double-edged sword: while enabling us to survive day-to-day America, it also dooms us in the long run. Okay, allow me to elaborate.
Confucianism preaches the virtue of “zhōng yōng zhī dào”—the Doctrine of the Mean. It extols the Golden Middle as the ideal place in any society for an individual. “If a tree grows above the canopy of a forest, the wind must destroy it.” This humbling philosophy has groomed almost every Chinese since childhood. We all learned to various degrees to blend in with the crowds and conform to the societal norm. And those of us who had the misfortune of growing up under the communist regime suffered from a double whammy. We were brainwashed to follow the Party’s rules blindly, to sacrifice ourselves for the collective harmony, and, ultimately, to become standardized, replaceable cogs on the gigantic machine of “the motherland.” Unfortunately, the compounding influence of Confucianism and communism has a neutering effect. Eventually, we became a flock of docile, obedient sheep.
Once we arrived in America, where individualism triumphs, we continued to live carefully, grazing in the New World with our heads down. Despite our skin color, we tried to blend in. We strived to reach the Golden Middle, never the lonesome top. In career path, we gravitated towards fields where success is measured by objective metrics, not those at the mercy of subjective whims. We labored hard, avoiding actions to draw attention to ourselves. Even after we achieved excellence in our chosen fields, we shunned the limelight of leadership roles. Believing in safety in the quiet, comforting middle, we encourage our children to dream modestly and steer them toward safer, greener pastures with deep moats—those that demand long hours of hard work to excel and reward with predictable prestige: doctors, engineers, scientists, lawyers. . . We fantasized about parachuting our offspring into the upper-middle class, each insulated with a tiny, cushy cocoon.
This “Regression to the Mean” trait has been etched in our bones. It enables us to quietly secure our individual footholds in America. But when the environment gets tough, it fails us. Despite our conforming mentality, some Americans resent those hard-working overachievers. And to their delight, “the model minority” is also the weakest group, taking all the punches without fighting back. Time and again, we ended up on the receiving end of Asian-hate. Suddenly, we can become a target under any pretense, from random violence on the street to discrimination and unfair treatment in academia. Now, with the escalation of tensions between China and the USA, more hatred waves are forecasted.
Historically, we have endured all the wrongs heaped upon us with dignity. Again, influenced by Confucius, we introspect and find fault in ourselves. We seldom seek outside help. Fear of authority makes us reluctant to navigate the judicial system. We also shun mental health professionals due to the stigma branded by our heritage. Instead, we master the art of enduring stoically—until some day, some of us succumb to preventable tragedy.
My historical novel, The Moon Goddess’s Smile, perfectly fits the theme of API Heritage Month. Many of my early readers told me they were moved by the story of one particular tragic Chinese American in the book. I hope you also find him compelling and that his tragedy resonates with you. Above all, I hope we can all learn from history, ancient and recent, fictional or real.
https://www.amazon.com/Moon-Goddesss-...
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
So far, no one has appointed me as a spokesperson for the vastly diverse people crammed together under this gigantic “API” umbrella. After all, I’m from only one subgroup, the first-generation Chinese American. But I can assure you that this unsettling feeling is real and universal among my cohort. Yes, we have come a long way and achieved many historical milestones. Yet, looking up, we see the same bulletproof glass ceilings we can never crack.
Why am I so pessimistic about our future? Because we are endowed and cursed in equal measure. Our cultural heritage is a double-edged sword: while enabling us to survive day-to-day America, it also dooms us in the long run. Okay, allow me to elaborate.
Confucianism preaches the virtue of “zhōng yōng zhī dào”—the Doctrine of the Mean. It extols the Golden Middle as the ideal place in any society for an individual. “If a tree grows above the canopy of a forest, the wind must destroy it.” This humbling philosophy has groomed almost every Chinese since childhood. We all learned to various degrees to blend in with the crowds and conform to the societal norm. And those of us who had the misfortune of growing up under the communist regime suffered from a double whammy. We were brainwashed to follow the Party’s rules blindly, to sacrifice ourselves for the collective harmony, and, ultimately, to become standardized, replaceable cogs on the gigantic machine of “the motherland.” Unfortunately, the compounding influence of Confucianism and communism has a neutering effect. Eventually, we became a flock of docile, obedient sheep.
Once we arrived in America, where individualism triumphs, we continued to live carefully, grazing in the New World with our heads down. Despite our skin color, we tried to blend in. We strived to reach the Golden Middle, never the lonesome top. In career path, we gravitated towards fields where success is measured by objective metrics, not those at the mercy of subjective whims. We labored hard, avoiding actions to draw attention to ourselves. Even after we achieved excellence in our chosen fields, we shunned the limelight of leadership roles. Believing in safety in the quiet, comforting middle, we encourage our children to dream modestly and steer them toward safer, greener pastures with deep moats—those that demand long hours of hard work to excel and reward with predictable prestige: doctors, engineers, scientists, lawyers. . . We fantasized about parachuting our offspring into the upper-middle class, each insulated with a tiny, cushy cocoon.
This “Regression to the Mean” trait has been etched in our bones. It enables us to quietly secure our individual footholds in America. But when the environment gets tough, it fails us. Despite our conforming mentality, some Americans resent those hard-working overachievers. And to their delight, “the model minority” is also the weakest group, taking all the punches without fighting back. Time and again, we ended up on the receiving end of Asian-hate. Suddenly, we can become a target under any pretense, from random violence on the street to discrimination and unfair treatment in academia. Now, with the escalation of tensions between China and the USA, more hatred waves are forecasted.
Historically, we have endured all the wrongs heaped upon us with dignity. Again, influenced by Confucius, we introspect and find fault in ourselves. We seldom seek outside help. Fear of authority makes us reluctant to navigate the judicial system. We also shun mental health professionals due to the stigma branded by our heritage. Instead, we master the art of enduring stoically—until some day, some of us succumb to preventable tragedy.
My historical novel, The Moon Goddess’s Smile, perfectly fits the theme of API Heritage Month. Many of my early readers told me they were moved by the story of one particular tragic Chinese American in the book. I hope you also find him compelling and that his tragedy resonates with you. Above all, I hope we can all learn from history, ancient and recent, fictional or real.
https://www.amazon.com/Moon-Goddesss-...
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
April 14, 2025
Why Should You Read The Moon Goddess’s Smile?
Since 2018, America has been waist-deep in a trade war with China. China tariff, China threat, a rising China. . . Every day, politicians fling at us these hailstone-sized buzzwords. As a result, many of us are drowning in the subconscious deluge of fear and anxiety about China.
There will be casualties, even in a bloodless trade war. Sun Tzu stated in The Art of War, “If you know your opponent and know yourself, you need not fear a hundred battles.” So, here is a fair question to ask my fellow Americans: Do you understand the real China and Chinese people?
Today, if you Google the Amazon bestsellers about Chinese people, you will notice an interesting trend: two of the top five novels were written in 1937—by Pearl Buck, an American who lived in China in the early part of the 20th century. The rest were either meticulously researched and beautifully written by Lisa See, a Chinese American whose great-grandfather immigrated from China over a century ago, or about ancient Chinese who lived in 16th to 18th century.
I hope you see my point now: If knowledge is power, then outdated, second-hand knowledge can be dangerous, in war or peace.
Here comes the welcoming news: The Moon Goddess’s Smile, “a timely read,” according to Independent Book Review, will debut on April 19, 2025. This authentic, sweeping, atmospheric book opens a unique window for Americans to glimpse the mysterious Chinese psyche.
So, dear readers, I invite you to dive into this immersive story and swim among some complicated, contemporary Chinese characters. Once you cross into the twenty-first century with the Hong family, you will gain a deep understanding of modern-day China.
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
There will be casualties, even in a bloodless trade war. Sun Tzu stated in The Art of War, “If you know your opponent and know yourself, you need not fear a hundred battles.” So, here is a fair question to ask my fellow Americans: Do you understand the real China and Chinese people?
Today, if you Google the Amazon bestsellers about Chinese people, you will notice an interesting trend: two of the top five novels were written in 1937—by Pearl Buck, an American who lived in China in the early part of the 20th century. The rest were either meticulously researched and beautifully written by Lisa See, a Chinese American whose great-grandfather immigrated from China over a century ago, or about ancient Chinese who lived in 16th to 18th century.
I hope you see my point now: If knowledge is power, then outdated, second-hand knowledge can be dangerous, in war or peace.
Here comes the welcoming news: The Moon Goddess’s Smile, “a timely read,” according to Independent Book Review, will debut on April 19, 2025. This authentic, sweeping, atmospheric book opens a unique window for Americans to glimpse the mysterious Chinese psyche.
So, dear readers, I invite you to dive into this immersive story and swim among some complicated, contemporary Chinese characters. Once you cross into the twenty-first century with the Hong family, you will gain a deep understanding of modern-day China.
Happy reading,
Catherine C. Wu
