Crazy Rich Asians (Crazy Rich Asians, #1)

by Kevin Kwan

In the Andalusian courtyard, Rachel allowed her eyes to close for a moment. The strums of the Chinese zither created a perfect melody with the trickling waters, and the flowers in turn seemed to be choreographing their bloom to the mellifluous sounds. Every time a breeze blew, the copper lanterns strung against the evening sky swayed like hundreds of glowing orbs adrift in a dark ocean. Rachel felt like she was floating along with them in some sybaritic dream, and she wondered if life with Nicholas would always be like this. Soon, the tan huas began to wilt just as swiftly and mysteriously as they had bloomed, filling the night air with an intoxicating scent as they shriveled into spent, lifeless petals.

This chapter at Tyersall Park was a turning point for me in many ways. I realized that these random stories I had been writting for months were finally taking shape, and that I needed to keep on going. And after writing this passage in particular, I realized for the first time that I was being transported by my own story, and that maybe I had the makings of a real book.