My first impression of Taipei, Taiwan was goddamn it was hot here. I guess the fact that it was summer, and Taiwan had a marine tropical climate explained most of it. However, I was utterly unprepared, and wished I had put on some shorts instead of jeans.   A man dressed in a designer suit met me at the airport, and suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad.   “Is it always this hot?” I asked, feeling very, very sorry for his pants and blazer.   “Not normally,” he sighed, loading my luggage into the back of a sleek BMW. “There is a heat wave in the city this week.”       I met with the PD and script-writers of Fiction and Fact over dinner of rice noodles, and moved into a temporary rented apartment that they provided for me.    “Send me a postcard,” Andi whined over the phone almost as soon as I called. “No, wait, send me hot Taiwanese men.”   She had not been able to accompany me, since she was set to start law school in a few weeks. I felt a little lost without my partner in crime, but it would just have to do.       Living by myself, away from my parents, was refreshing. Of course, just the fact that I no longer had medical school in my future, just more writing, made me that much happier.       I spent the first three weeks just working with the script, going over the changes the writers had made, approving them, and adjusting them. Sometimes, dialogue that looked good in print do not fare so well when spoken out loud, and I learned quickly how to adapt.       Casting was, of course, the next task at hand. Mrs. Bai, the head casting director, was not that many years older than me at 29 years old. She told me to just call her Jenny, and with the help of her assistants, had already drawn up shortlists of actors whom they felt were good choices for the main roles. We started small, and did an open casting for the supporting roles.    By then, the news that Fiction and Fact was being adapted to the small screen had leaked out, and I was amazed at the anticipation from everybody as well as the expressed interest from big time stars.   “We’ve already narrowed down the possible actors for the main antagonist role down to three men. However, the agent of one of them contacted me just yesterday that he had schedule conflicts, and would not be able to participate,” Jenny informed me. She popped a DVD into his computer, and projected it onto the big screen of the conference room. “We have here the audition tapes of the other two. In a few hours, they will come in and run some more lines for us in person.”   There was no competition, in my mind. We casted first-time-actor Li Zhixian as the best friend of Han Yiru, mainland superstar Wei Chen as the brother of Linn, and Vic Chou, original F4 member, as the evil mastermind, Quan Di.   Casting the female lead required a much harder decision.   When I first saw the audition tape of up-and-coming Taiwanese actress Nana, I was blown away. I knew she had recently starred in a breakout drama, but had never found the time to watch it. She captured the essence of the sweet and loyal Linn perfectly, and I was beyond impressed.   Then, we called her in for a line reading, and I got to meet her.    Let me just explain that Nana was a total .   “You’re Lin Ye?” she scoffed, glancing me over. “Who knew someone so ordinary looking like you could cause such a phenomenon. Do you have any spring water? I only drink bottled spring water, so it has to be that.”   She was a year and a half older than me, but a complete stuck-up brat. However, when the time came, she transformed into the perfect Linn. As much as I hated her as a person, she was an amazing actress.   “I might strangle her though, accidentally,” I muttered, as we all discussed our choices.   “Nana is…rather…demanding,” Director Cai agreed, “Her attitude can only be detrimental to the team.”   “She’s not very nice to Yejing either,” Jenny added. “I bet Yejing will try to write Linn out of the show if Nana gets the part.”   There was a smattering of laughter, and I cracked a smile.   “However, she is the best at her role. The question then becomes, is she worth it? Will we put up with Miss Princess, or risk the quality of the show and the authenticity of the characters?”   Producer Hu turned to me. “Miss Lin? It’s your call.”   I decided to take one for the team.           Then came the hardest part of casting the perfect Han Yiru. Because he was the main character of the show, and the focus of all of the development and attention, he was, in turn, the most important role. It was vital for the actor who played Yiru to be perfect.     After watching seventeen audition tapes of pre-screened and shortlisted stars and newb