“I have a friend who told me, wherever you’re going, I try not to be there,” Hu joked, looking distinctly unrattled by the idea that she might be an unlucky talisman. “Maybe in my previous life I was a war reporter.

“You have to understand, I didn’t plan it.”

There’s a lot Hu hasn’t planned in her life, which has seen her edit lads’ mags, write award-winning books, and promote her homeland as part of her current role as head of Kwang Hwa Information and Cultural Centre, Taiwan’s cultural hub in Hong Kong.

But however she pays the bills, and whichever city she lives in, one thing remains the same: first and foremost, she’s a writer.

“Since I was a child I wanted to become a writer,” Hu said. “I like reading books, I like to discuss ideas, I like conversation. I’m curious about human beings.”

You share your name with the 1955 novel by Russian-American novelist Vladimir Nabokov. Is that where the inspiration was drawn from?

When I was young, I got tired of Western people not being able to pronounce my name and one day I just said “call me Lolita, if you dare”. The name stuck to me, because I realised that name is a mirror. When people are open minded, they’ll just call me Lolita. When people are conservative, they can’t say the name. They just say hello, and they turn away because they feel like if you chose such a name, you must be some kind of dirty woman too. They are judging you by their own values. I kind of like this name now because it’s easy to remember and you really can judge the person, you have a one-second understanding of the person that you’re dealing with.

What was the first thing you wrote?

I didn’t start writing until late. When you study literature, you read all the great books, all the masters. And that is intimidating, you feel like, how can I write another book. I thought I had nothing to say. When I graduated from school, I started working as a journalist. I only published my first book when I was already 27. For me, it was pretty late, because most writers shine pretty young.

When did you realise you had something to say?

Most of the Chinese writing tradition is talking about nostalgia all the time, nostalgia about childhood, nostalgia about parents or the little village you left behind. That’s the moment I realised I probably was the first generation that doesn’t share nostalgia any more. We don’t have some kind of root. Writers have to be honest to their generation and the times.

What was it like being the female editor of lads mags?

I worked on Esquire, Maxim, FHM, everything. When I finished my studies, I needed to find a job. Lads’ magazines were booming in the 90s everywhere. I found it interesting that they wanted a woman editor in charge. The job came to me, and I said sure, if you want a woman. Obviously I am a feminist, so I find it interesting because my own question is always, after a revolution, then what next? I’m curious about the future. We want to break the wall, but after that you want to live a long life. So what do you want to build?

What did other feminists think of you being the editor?

It’s the same thing like the name Lolita – it’s more a reflection of them because obviously I didn’t change myself. So however people react to me is only about themselves. If they are really dogmatic, of course they will be offended. If they are more liberal minded, they will try to have a conversation with me, they will browse the magazine. Some people will try to understand why you do it, some people will never try to understand what you’re doing. I know women need to be respected, so I would like to believe that whatever I tried to do would make women feel adored but not denigrated.

You’ve lived in New York, Tokyo, Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong. How do the different cities that you’ve lived in affect your work?

I really feel like each city influences me, but I also feel that big cities share certain characters. Whoever chooses a cosmopolitan lifestyle, they actually care about something in common, something very unrealistic, like beauty, culture, something abstract. Whatever makes me angry in the city is never really the core infrastructure, it’s when people don’t care about spiritual values. We don’t have to work in the fields and cultivate rice. That means we can sit here, we can talk, we can exchange ideas. I think that’s why people go to cities, for opportunities, to so-called “become yourself”. Becoming yourself is also about ideas, your idea of yourself, to become that thing in your mind. Cities probably influenced my writing, but only probably confirmed my ideas about civilisation. When we talk about civilisation destroyed, it’s about this.

You’ve experienced a number of world crises first-hand. What was it like being there?

What I feel during the disaster is that suddenly my fate is so connected with strangers who I probably quarrelled with one day before and now we are sharing the same fate. I think that made me feel there are bigger issues, like when we talk about environmental protection, or think about the Earth, or think about fate of human beings, or how we can coexist on this surface of the Earth. I was forced to broaden my horizon. Then there was Sars – we thought the plague only happened in medieval novels, but it’s happening to our city, Hong Kong.

And I’m not even from Hong Kong, but I’m sharing the same fate with Hong Kong people. Then I moved to Tokyo, the earthquake happened. And you just realise you are there with them, you are a foreigner, you hardly speak any Japanese, but you’re going to die together with them. You all change your life direction, and you all share the same life path. You have to help each other.

When people ask you where you’re from, what do you say?

It really depends on who asks me. I actually wrote about this in my first book [The Traveller], how in the beginning I would only say who I’m not, instead of saying who I am. Hong Kong is home to me ... because here you’re not Chinese first, you’re yourself first. So here I’m Ching-fang first, I’m not Taiwanese first. Hong Kong taught me the meaning of freedom, independent thinking. Hong Kong is really not a country. It’s just like a city floating above the world. The Traveller is not about travel, it’s about people moving around and how your identity and value changes, like currency, and how people are bound together and clash together. At 27, I was forced to think about that because the United Nations doesn’t consider Taiwan a country. Wherever I go, I have to explain who I am because the identity is not certain.

What inspires you when you’re writing?

We only have one set of eyes. Some writers will constantly look at their child, some people will keep writing about Chinese village life. I guess I’m always curious about what’s happening now. Right now, there’s a novel I’m working on about Facebook and social media, how they invaded our lives. I guess I’m more focused on the 21st century.

What’s the main thing you love about Hong Kong?

You live like a hermit inside this city. There’s a saying in Chinese, that the real hermit lives in the city, because you’re anonymous. You’re nobody here. In my book [A nonymity, published this year] I try to say loneliness is not necessarily a bad thing – the person can suddenly be themselves.

You’re also head of Kwang Hwa Information and Culture Centre. Why should Hongkongers care about Taiwanese culture?

We try to be a window to Taiwanese culture in Hong Kong. I think Taiwanese culture is interesting in that we are a free society and we are a melting pot because of our history. We have so much historical baggage that we were forced to have a messy culture. Taiwan represents that Chinese culture can be different. I think Taiwan is advanced in many social perspectives, like we care about gay rights, and we do care about political freedom and we are a democracy, so there’s a lot of things we can be proud of. When I was young, Hong Kong people didn’t care about Taiwan so much. For them, it’s a provincial poor island, they didn’t need to pay any attention, but I think Hong Kong people changed their attitude. At the moment, Hong Kong people have come to realise they share similar values with Taiwanese people.

Lolita Hu: the story behind the writer

What’s your favourite Hong Kong food?

Nai cha [Hong Kong milk tea]. I love it, I can drink it all day long. I usually have it in the afternoon. It’s a very unique Hong Kong thing, and even if you drink it in other parts of the world it doesn’t have the same quality.

What’s your favourite book?

That’s too hard! I would say Dream of the Red Chamber. I think that’s one Chinese classic I could keep reading and reading and reading. It’s a world, it’s a universe complete in itself. I’m just browsing it all the time, and it’s really good for writing skills.

If you had a dinner party, who would you invite?

The names that popped into my brain are all writers, and writers are difficult animals. You don’t want to go to a party with them, they’re so boring. I would bring one close friend, and [French novelist Marcel] Proust, because he’s a party animal, and we can probably observe people together and exchange opinions. I think Proust is elegant and I think after the party he would complain about [the other guests]. I would bring [American actor] George Clooney, because he is good looking, and people would talk to him and then they would talk to me.

What’s something you miss from Taiwan?

Every time I move around, I always miss people. No matter what city, you always find some new and interesting thing to learn. Life is no better or worse, it’s just different. People are difficult, you cannot bring them with you and that’s painful.

If you could move to any city, where would you go?

Paris, it’s my favourite city. I’ve been spending time in the past 11 years, I just go there and do nothing there and write. It is really a magic city. Paris is special.

Do you have a special process when you’re writing?

I don’t. I’m not disciplined, that’s for sure. I will probably have a problem when I’m older, because right now I’m using my brain to remember every detail. And I’m pretty good at that. When I’m older, I don’t know. It’s an advantage if you are a writer. I’m very good at imprinting pictures on my brain.