Amy Tan's "The Joy Luck Club" has had several lives: as a best-selling 1989 hardback, as a 1993 film, as a popular choice with book clubs and now as the subject of the 2007 Big Read in Hawai'i, in which people are gathering to hear the book read out loud, to see it acted out, and to discuss it. The Advertiser chatted with Tan about her book this week:

Q. Why did this book click so with readers?

A. "I asked myself that question when it first came out, and the readers gave me the answer: So many people found their families reflected in the story. It wasn't the specific detail; it was the unspoken conflict between mothers and daughters. ... I never set out to write a book that was universal. I thought I was writing a book about a very strange relationship that happened only to me."

Q. How did the captivating phrase "Joy Luck Club" come to you?

A. "This is easy to answer. My father named the real Joy Luck Club (an investment club). He wasn't doing anything original; in Chinese vernacular, joy and luck go together. ... My original title was 'Wind and Water,' after the words 'feng shui,' but no one knew what feng shui was then. My agent thought it was a little esoteric; she suggested 'Joy Luck Club.' "

Q. Asian-American literature is in its third and fourth generation. Are the issues for these authors different than first- and second-generation writers?

A. "It's different and similar, just as, when you have parents and children, you see similarities, but they have differences, too. ... I don't think it is as much perceived as quote, 'Asian-American literature,' unquote, as it is literature that is by writers who are Asian-Americans. ... I used to chafe against 'Chinese' or 'Asian-American' preceding the word 'writer,' because it led to compartmentalizing. ... People in publishing would say, 'We don't need this new book by so and so because we already have Amy Tan' — like one Asian-American book was a minimum daily requirement.

"Today, you hear many more voices ... more depictions of people of different backgrounds. When you have just one person from a culture, people in the culture end up saying, 'This is terrible. This is a stereotype. My mother didn't speak broken English!' I could never explain to people that I wasn't writing about Chinese culture. I was writing fictional stories that were informed by my own family. ... And my mother did speak broken English."

Q. Has Hawai'i played a role in your life?

A. "The most pivotal point in my relationship with my mother happened while I was in Hawai'i. I was away from her as far as I could be, both metaphorically and in reality, and I heard that she had had a heart attack. I remember that moment very, very clearly. I vowed that, if she survived, I would change (the relationship). ... She did — my mother's heart attack turned out to be a pain in her chest from getting into a fight with the fishmonger — and I had to live up to that promise."

Q. What's on your nightstand?

A. "Oh, you'll need a lot of pages for that; I'm not monogamous when it comes to reading."

Tan reeled off the names of six books, ranging from a classic by Camus (to practice her French) to several new novels in galley form, to "For the Love of a Dog," by Patricia Mcconnell, because Tan is mourning the loss of her dog.

Reach Wanda A. Adams at wadams@honoluluadvertiser.com.