Plot Twists in Qingdao: How Moving to China Rewrote My Story (and My Novels)

Okay, let’s address the big question I get all the time: "Is it harder to write when you're living in a foreign country?"

My honest answer? Nah. A laptop is a laptop. I’ve written at a desk, on a sofa, in a bustling restaurant, and while squished into a hotel bed. (If you want proof, you’ll have to stalk me on TikTok for the behind-the-scenes shots.)

But here’s the thing—this post isn't really about where I write. It’s about how trading my American life for an apartment in Qingdao, China, completely rewired my brain as a storyteller. So, grab a cup of tea (or milk tea, 奶茶, if you're feeling local), and let me take you on a little adventure.

The Leap

I arrived on the tail end of COVID. While the rest of the world was popping champagne and tossing masks, China was still buttoned up tight. I spent three weeks in quarantine, staring at a wall, full of equal parts "What on earth have I done?" and "This is the coolest thing ever."

Before the move, writing was a "someday" dream. A hobby I squeezed in between shifts as a single mom and a teacher. For sixteen years, my life was about survival—paying bills, raising my sons, running on a hamster wheel. There wasn't a lot of room for "someday."

But my boys were grown. An opportunity to teach abroad landed in my lap. And I thought of that line from Hamilton—you know the one: "I'm not throwing away my shot."

So, I took it.

And immediately, my writing dried up and blew away.

The Chaos (and the Plot Twist I Didn't See Coming)

Honestly, I was too busy trying to survive to write. My brain was a pinball machine: daily or weekly COVID tests depending on latest news, updating health codes, downloading seventeen different apps just to buy groceries (only to discover my American phone couldn't even download half of them). I was learning a new job, navigating a language I couldn't speak, and trying to figure out how to be a "new kind of brave."

Oh, and dating.

Let’s pause there. My marriage ended in 2006. I hadn't dated since. I had zero interest in dating ever again. So, you can imagine my shock when the universe decided to play matchmaker and I met my soul mate. In China,of all places.

Falling in love, as it turns out, is wildly distracting. Especially from something I still thought of as just a "hobby."

The Shift

But stories are patient. They don't yell; they whisper. Eventually, the whispers got too loud to ignore. I found myself keeping a journal by the bed again, waking up at 3 a.m. to scribble down ideas. (Spoiler: there are way more books coming after this trilogy. My brain won't shut up.)

And then I realized something huge: I finally had time.

Teaching in the US is a monster. It consumes you. It is your identity. My family used to joke in August, "See you next year!" Because they literally wouldn't see me until June.

Here? Work stays at work. It doesn't follow you home and eat your soul.

So, my husband (yep, the soul mate!) and I started to live. We traveled. Hong Kong, Shanghai, Harbin, Guangzhou, Thailand, Singapore. We wandered frozen cities and humid coasts. We ate things I can't pronounce and fell in love with a million different versions of "home."

How China Sneaks Into My Stories

The more I opened myself up to this wild, beautiful, frustrating country, the more it bled into me—and onto the page.

Traditional Chinese medicine fixed a neck injury that American doctors couldn't touch with a truckload of muscle relaxers. I learned that people from the North are different from people in the South, but that underneath the surface, we're all the same.

We all have fear. Love. Rage. Hope. We all want our kids to be okay. We all want to work hard and matter. We all want a hero.

And no, I don't mean the cape-wearing, flying kind.

I mean the kind of hero who whispers, "I get it. I've been there. Keep going."

That’s the hero I write about now. My characters are born from the chaos of this life—the oddities, the language barriers, the moments of feeling completely out of place. But their hearts? Their struggles? Those are universal. They want a better life. They stand up for what's right, even when they're scared. They fail. And they get back up.

From Hobby to Obsession

Writing isn't a pastime for me anymore. It's not a "someday."

It's a fire I can't put out. And now that I have the time, the space, and a world full of new colors to paint with, the stories can't stay inside anymore.

They have to find you.

So, here we are. An American writer in Qingdao, with a head full of characters and a heart full of chaos. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Catch you in the next post,
I.M.He