Excerpt from China Dolls by Lisa See, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Plain City, Ohio."

"Haven't heard of it, but we're both from the Midwest, and our states are practically neighbors. Friends?"

I nodded. He sure was a nice guy— good- looking, and I liked the way the left side of his mouth tweaked up when he smiled.

"Whew!" He wiped his forehead in mock relief.

He was funny too.

When we had all reached the trailer, a man— wearing gray flannel trousers, a leather jacket zipped halfway up his chest, and a charcoalcolored trilby pulled down to shield his eyes from the sun— jumped on a crate and spoke above the din around us: "A lot of you have come from far away. That's great! We need plenty of folks to get this place up and running. If you're a painter, electrician, or plumber, head over to the Court of the Seven Seas. Harry will lead the way." Half the folks followed the man pointed out as Harry.

"I figure the rest of you are here to apply for either service or performance jobs," the man in the trilby continued. "If you want to drive one of the elephant trams, work in a concession, become a rollingchair boy, barker, waitress, fireman, or cop, then go to the Court of Flowers. No flowers there yet, just another trailer like this one."

"That's my cue," Joe whispered. Then, "Good luck!"

He peeled away with a large group. He turned to look back at me, gave me a thumbs- up and another smile, both of which I returned. He strode with such confidence that dust kicked up around his shoes. Through the racket around me, I could just make out him whistling

"All of Me." I loved that song.

The man in the hat sized up those who remained. "All right then," he said. "If you're here to be models, dancers, or musicians, you're with me. I'll see you one at a time. After a preliminary look- see, I'll send you on to auditions. If you make the cut . . . Aw, hell," he said with a casual wave of his hand. "You know the drill. Line up here."

One person after another entered the trailer and then exited five or so minutes later with either a grin or a grimace. I tried to prepare myself for the questions I might be asked about my dance experience, and once again my father came into my mind. He may have beat me at home, but he liked to boast to others about how many ribbons and apple- pie prizes I'd won. He'd pushed me to be an "all- American girl," which meant that he let me go to the Rialto to watch musicals to inspire me to practice even harder. I adored Eleanor Powell in Broadway Melody of 1936, in which she danced without music. I saw that movie maybe ten times, and then tried to re- create her steps at every opportunity: on the sidewalk outside the theater, at Miss Miller's studio, and in our family's laundry. Of course, the kids in school made fun of me when I said I wanted to be a star. "You? An Oriental girl?" They had a point. It wasn't like there were any famous Chinese movie stars apart from Anna May Wong, and she didn't sing or dance as far as I knew. Then I saw Dorothy Toy and Paul Wing— a Chinese dance team— in the whimsically titled With Best Dishes. I decided if they could make it, why not me? But would any of that help me now? I suddenly felt very apprehensive and very alone.

When my turn came, I entered the trailer and closed the door behind me as I'd seen others do. The man motioned for me to sit.

"Your name?"

"Grace Lee."

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to sing and dance," I answered pertly. I wanted to be a star, so no matter how desperate I was, I had to act like one. "I'm good."

The man pinched his chin as he considered my response.

"You're Oriental," he observed, "and you're quite the knockout. Problem is, I don't have anything for you."

Excerpted from China Dolls by Lisa See. Copyright © 2014 by Lisa See. Excerpted by permission of Random House. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.