A Discussion of Taiwanese Wuxia Author Pay

by Gu Xueyi

During the 60s and 70s over 400 wuxia authors emerged in Taiwan. To a large degree this was because the barrier to entry to become a wuxia author was very low, and one could receive abundant remuneration in return. In other words, many authors chose to write wuxia novels not because of some lofty ideal but because they could live a good life. As Zhuge Qingyun once said of himself, “Even though there’s no literary inquisition in this generation… writing books is still just a way to make a living.”

But how much money could a wuxia author make? This is a big topic. For example, Jin Yong, who ascended to the ranks of “billionaires” partly because of his wuxia novels, still the most important reason was because of the market value of his newspaper, Ming Pao. Or Gu Long, the money he earned from film and TV adaptations far exceeded the money he made from his novels. But that’s not the focus of this discussion. What I’m more interested in is manuscript submission payment because that is what the vast majority of wuxia authors relied on to make their living. After all, Jin Yong is just one person, and so is Gu Long. Their success is very difficult to duplicate; few authors were lucky enough to see their work adapted to film or TV, much less be like Jin Yong and use a newspaper empire to earn a nearly astronomical income.

In Lin Yingzhe’s article “Zhuge Qingyun Still Making a Living Writing, Still Full of Spirit”, he raised the issue of manuscript submission payments:

“Zhuge Qingyun said that around 1960, the pay for writing one volume of a wuxia novel was NT$500 ($18 USD)1 and his wages were around NT$800-900 ($29-32 USD).

1960 was when wuxia novels were booming in Hong Kong and Taiwan. Most wuxia novels back then were published in slim volumes, each about 70-80 pages and containing 20-30,000 Chinese characters.2 A typical wuxia novel usually was usually dozens of volumes in length. So just how much did NT$500 a volume represent? The Developmental History of Taiwanese Wuxia Fiction explains:

“Typically a new author would write two volumes a month and make over NT$1,000 ($36 USD), roughly equivalent in 1960 to a mid-level government employee’s basic monthly salary.”

From this we can see that NT$500 was the starting pay, suitable for a “new author” and those who had written before but were still relatively unknown authors. But payment is a fixed thing, people are adaptable. Some new authors were able to negotiate and get a higher return from the publisher. Qin Hong, for example:

“I wrote Peerless Sword3 for eight months, a few hundred-thousand Chinese characters, about half of the novel, then took it to a publisher nearby, Damei Publishing. Five days later the publisher replied and agreed to pay me NT$600 ($21 USD) a volume (each around 20,000 characters). After negotiating it up to NT$800 ($29 USD) I accepted.”4

If we pay attention we will notice that Qin Hong’s final pay was almost the same as Zhuge Qingyun’s. From this we can infer that Zhuge Qingyun’s pay, at the height of his career, never exceeded NT$800-900 per volume. The Developmental History of Taiwanese Wuxia Fiction mentions that Taiwanese wuxia authors made between NT$500-NT$3,000 ($18-107 USD). Zhuge Qingyun had bad luck, he ought to have reached NT$1,000-NT$2,000 ($36-71 USD). Xiao Yi’s recollection bears this out:

“Taiwan in the 60s-70s had five wuxia authors who could be said to be ‘first-rate’: Wolong Sheng, Sima Ling, Zhuge Qingyun, Gu Long, and me.” Xiao Yi said his criteria for this was payment: “For a volume of around 20,000 characters, the pay was typically NT$800. If you could get NT$2,000, that was considered the highest amount, and that was just us five.”5

Earlier, Zhuge Qingyun recalled that “the pay for writing one volume of a wuxia novel was NT$500”, and here Xiao Yi said “the pay was typically NT$800”, so which is more accurate? Actually, there’s really no contradiction. Qin Hong, as a new author, negotiated his pay, so we can more or less deduce that the pay (in the 60s-70s) was typically between NT$500-NT$800. New and unknown authors would have the lowest amount of fluctuation. After a bit of success, the pay would begin to increase, but normally would not exceed NT$800. There must certainly have been negotiating between publishers and authors, and the specific amount would be based on individual circumstances. Of course there was also lower pay, like Liu Canyang’s debut novel, Jade-Faced Demon, which was only NT$400 ($14 USD) for the first and second volumes.

Everything discussed so far has been regarding pay for slim volumes, but there was also periodical serialization. Generally speaking, the pay for periodical serialization was higher than slim volumes. In an interview, Xue Yan once said:

“In 1962 when I published a book, a 30,000-character slim volume paid about NT$400. Back then, the monthly salary for a government worker was around NT$700-NT$800. Later, the pay [for slim volumes] increased to close to NT$800. After 1971, the amount is hard to calculate because you could sell a manuscript multiple times. Like the Hong Kong magazine Wuxia Chronicles gave me about NT$1,200 for 30,000 characters.”

Publishing a 30,000 character volume was within NT$800, but if a magazine used it (like Wuxia Chronicles), then it was NT$1,200. From this we can calculate roughly that a magazine serial paid NT$400/10,000 characters, NT$40/1,000 characters ($1.43 USD). From The Developmental History of Taiwanese Wuxia Fiction:

“The calculated typical pay for all creative fiction writing was on average between NT$50/1,000 ($1.79 USD) characters and NT$100/1,000 characters. Calculating individually, wuxia books made a bit more, but because others didn’t have the output and were not as prolific as wuxia, it is impossible to draw comparisons.”

Xue Yan’s NT$40/1,000 characters is certainly less than the starting price for creative fiction (NT$50), therefore this figure should conform with the typical wuxia author’s pay. Serialization pay surely was based in part on how popular the author was with readers. Some outstanding authors, at the height of their popularity, could possibly make NT$100/1,000 characters.

Now we can roughly calculate the monthly income for wuxia writing. Using an average word count of 3,000 Chinese characters per day, that’s 90,000/month, enough to publish three slim volumes, which would earn you NT$2,400 (NT$800/volume). If you are serializing in a periodical as well, that’s NT$7,200 ($257 USD), for a total of nearly NT$10,000 ($357 USD), enough income for a family to live comfortably. As a matter of fact, this is a conservative calculation. When it comes to writing speed, Wen Rui’an could write 4,000 Chinese characters an hour. As for periodical serialization, Xiao Yi had a record 17 different publications going simultaneously.

Aside from manuscript submission pay, many authors also received royalties. And if they were willing, they could outright sell their work to a publisher. This kind of income made many famous authors very wealthy. Taking the Big Four—Gu Long, Sima Ling, Wolong Sheng, and Zhuge Qingyun as examples, they were all once wealthy, but in the end every one of them spent it all—perhaps this is a case of the writing mirrors the writer. Most xia in wuxia novels were like this as well. But reality is reality, once woken from your xia dream, you must return to the regular world. Sima Ling’s sword burst forth with a thousand variations but in the end he bowed for meager material gain; Zhuge Qingyun was elegant in speech and manner, but in a panic became a Hong Kong dog;6 Gu Long had lofty ambitions, but there were creditors knocking at the door.7 Flowers bloom and fade. When we look back at these men’s end of the road, we can’t help but sigh: heroes shouldn’t be greedy; it would be better to save a little.

I translated this article from the original Chinese text I found and saved from a wuxia forum online.

Notes

  1. Unless otherwise stated, all currency referred to in this article is in New Taiwan Dollars
  2. Translator’s Note: Chinese characters means each indidivual character, not “words” like English writing is calculated with.
  3. Translator Note: The article doesn’t mention it, but it’s important to know that Peerless Sword is Qin Hong’s debut novel. Therefore, he’s being used here as an example of a “new author”.
  4. Lin Baochun, Extraordinary Man of the Streets—An Interview with Wuxia Author Qin Hong
  5. Yu Ying, Xiao Yi: Forty Years, Tenderly Regarding the Sword
  6. Translator’s Note: Not sure why the author of this article suddenly went on this tangent, and these descriptions sound really rude. I am translating them literally since I don’t know what other meaning they might have. I suspect the author is not really calling Zhuge Qingyun a “dog” because that would be way too harsh. Anyway the basic point is that these writers all lost their status and wealth. The author of this article is being flowery (and crude) with getting the point across. Still, I didn’t want to just leave the last paragraph untranslated.
  7. Translator’s Note: Uh, what? Gu Long drank himself to death. He didn’t lose all his money.