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

I opened my purse, pulled out Miss Miller's clipping, and pushed it across the desk. "It says here you need performers for the Cavalcade of the Golden West— "

"That's a big show. Hundreds of performers. But I don't need an Oriental girl."

"What about at the Japanese Pavilion?" I asked, my false confidence instantly eroding. "I came from so far away. I really need a job."

"It's the Depression, kid. Everyone needs a job." He glanced again at my application. "And I hate to break it to you, but you aren't Japanese. Grace Lee, that's Chinese, right?"

"Will anyone know?"

"Kid, I doubt anyone can tell the difference. Can you?"

I shrugged. I'd never seen a Japanese. I'd never seen a Chinese either other than my mother, my father, and my own reflection in the mirror— and Anna May Wong, Toy and Wing, and a couple of Orientals playing maids and butlers on the silver screen, but those weren't in real life— so how could I be certain of the difference between a Japanese and a Chinese? I only knew my mother's thin cheeks and chapped hands and my father's weathered face and wiry arms. Like that, my eyes began to well. What if I failed? What if I had to go home?

"We don't have Orientals where I'm from," I admitted, "but I've always heard that they all look alike."

"Be that as it may, I've been told to be authentic . . ." He snapped his fingers. "I've got it. There's going to be a Chinese Village. Those folks are doing their own hiring. Maybe I can get you set as a dancer from China."

"I'm not from China. I was born here."

Unconcerned, he picked up the phone. I listened as he suggested me to the person I assumed was in charge of the Chinese Village. He dropped the receiver back in the cradle. "They aren't hiring dancers in a permanent way. With all the troubles in China, it wouldn't be right."

Troubles in China? I'd read about Germany's aggression in Europe in the Plain City Advocate, but the newspaper came out only once a week. It barely covered events in Europe and never in Asia, so I was ignorant about all things Chinese except Chinese rice wine, which my mom made and sold out our back door on Friday and Saturday nights to the men in Plain City— a place as dry as chalk even after Prohibition ended. My mind pondered these things, but they were just a diversion from my panic.

"What about on the Gayway?" I remembered that from Miss Miller's advertisement.

"That's a carnival. I don't see you there at all."

"I've been to a carnival before— "

"Not like this one."

"I can do it," I insisted, but he'd better not try sending me to a hoochie- coochie tent like they had for men at the Plain City Fair. I'd never do that.

He shook his head. "You're a regular China doll. If I put you in the Gayway, the men would eat you up."

My five minutes were done, but the man didn't dismiss me. Instead, he stared at me, taking in my dress, my shoes, the way I'd curled and combed my hair. I lowered my eyes and sat quietly. Perhaps it was proof of how the most innocent can remain safe— or that the man really was of good character— that he didn't try or even suggest any funny business.

"I'll do anything," I said, my voice now shaking, "even if it's boring or menial— "

"That's not the way to sell yourself, kid."

"I could work in a hamburger stand if I had to. Maybe one of the performers in the Cavalcade of the Golden West will get sick. You should have someone like me around, just in case."

"You can try the concessions," he responded dubiously. "But you've got a big problem. Your gams are good, and your contours and promontories are in the right places. You've got a face that could crush a lily. But your accent— "

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.