The Fruit Ripens Late at Xiaoyuan

Some people's writing is like a plump, crimson apple in the sunlight, rich and full-bodied. Some is like a sharp, crisp lime, cutting straight to the point. Others are sweet, fragrant, and rich. The writing of Chayue Mengsu is that one fruit growing in a moonlit orchard. It does not chase the fruit that ripens early beneath the blazing sun. It grows with moonlight and dew, carrying a delicate sweetness and a faint, elusive melancholy. This is a book about writing and making peace with yourself. It brings together short stories and reflections on the craft, documenting a writer's journey from imitating others and struggling with immature prose to embracing a style of their own. There is no single right answer in an orchard. You needn't force yourself to grow into someone else's likeness. Fruit that ripens slowly has its own unique, subtle fragrance.