Toronto-based author Lily Chu introduces her first magic realism book and reflects on representation in the romance genre.
Since her 2021 debut, The Stand-In, Lily Chu has been an unstoppable force in the romance novel scene. Based in Toronto, Chu draws on her background and personal hobbies—using anything from obituaries to perfumes as inspiration—to create immersive rom-coms featuring Asian protagonists. In early May, Chu kicked off a new chapter in her career with the release of The Library of Flowers, her first multigenerational novel in the women’s fiction genre, which expands her portfolio into magic-realism territory.
Set partially in modern-day Vancouver and partially across the bygone eras of Chinese dynasties, The Library of Flowers is a tale of identity and family. While the story focuses on protagonist Lucy Hua and her relationships, the complex emotions involved in platonic and familial relationships are at the core of the plot.
Chu tapped into an uncommon narrative motif to tell Lucy’s story: perfume. Throughout the novel, fragrances evoke vivid imagery, inspire nostalgia and spark curiosity.
“I’ve always loved perfume,” Chu says about the foundation of the story’s magic system. “Perfume really is kind of magical. The way it can recall smells, the way it can bring you back to the past, the way it can remind you of somebody. It seemed like a really good match for this kind of storytelling, especially because I think I got my love for perfume from my own mother.”
During the writing process, Chu made a new level of commitment to understanding fragrances.
In addition to reading about fragrance notes and perusing product reviews, Chu purchased a perfume kit to create her own fragrances. In The Library of Flowers, the author incorporates familiar scents, such as rose or jasmine, with descriptive notes that bring the writing to life even for readers unfamiliar with perfumery.
The Library of Flowers was also a way for Chu to demonstrate her formal education in Chinese history.
As Lucy’s family history comes to the surface, readers are dropped into the past to learn from various perspectives. This is part of Chu’s intentional effort to create a moment of solace for readers. “I really want readers to get immersed in Lucy’s story and just be able to have a few hours where they can forget the world around them,” she says.
The Library of Flowers
LILY CHU
Besides The Library of Flowers, most of Chu’s writing lives in the romance genre.
Romance is the highest-grossing fiction genre in the world, reportedly producing $1.4 billion in annual sales revenue in recent years. As of late, romance book-to-screen adaptations have attracted more readers to the genre. Some examples from the past year include queer hockey series Heated Rivalry (2025), which launched Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie into stardom, and Wuthering Heights (2026), an artistic retelling of an English classic.
Despite its ever-growing audience, browsing the Romance shelf typically reveals one of the genre’s biggest shortcomings: the lack of diversity among protagonists.
According to The Ripped Bodice’s State of Racial Diversity in Romance Publishing Study, as of 2024, only 11% of books in the traditional romance publishing genre were written by BIPOC authors.
Growing up as an Asian Canadian woman, Chu felt the disparity firsthand. A goal to push the genre in a more diverse direction guides her work today.
“It’s important to have representation within those stories, because when you have only one type of story being told, it’s difficult for people who haven’t had those experiences to connect,” she reflects. “Seeing people with your own experiences on the page or on the screen, wherever, helps to normalize those experiences.”
As Chu points out, the question always comes down to whose story is allowed to be “told.” “Whose story is available for consumption?” Chu reflects. “We need more stories, more representation, and the way we get that is by people reading and supporting those stories and those authors.”
For more insight into The Library of Flowers Chu’s upcoming projects, read the remainder of our conversation below:
Did writing The Library of Flowers teach you anything about, or change how you see, your own relationships or background?
Wow. Did it? That’s a really good question. I think every book you write — I process things by physically writing them out. You know how some people process by speaking out loud or drawing? Mine is physically writing it out. So, I think, probably every book I write in some way is a cheaper version of therapy that I then inflict on other people.
Is there anything in particular that you were hoping readers might take from this story?
I hope they are entertained. I hope they have a lovely time reading it and it’s a beautiful escape for them. That’s always my primary goal for a book. I hope they maybe look at the scents in their own life, how they feel about scents, or think of the feelings and the emotions and the situations that [scents] evoke in them, which I think sometimes we just note and pass on.
We’re living at a time where not only are geopolitical tensions incredibly heightened, the relationships between people are becoming increasingly polarized. Romance has historically been considered a feminine genre and therefore devalued in mainstream book conversations. I was wondering what you think the importance of telling lighthearted stories and of representation in these spaces is.
Number one, I think for any book, as well as any entertainment, it really is a way to connect with other people. When we read, we connect to those stories, we connect to the experiences those characters are having…
When I was growing up, there were very few books with Asian leads. I remember there was a Tang Dynasty romance, there was Shogun, there were a couple fantasy ones. Then the Joy Luck Club came.
It’s not like there were tons of TV or tons of movies. There just weren’t. The representation was not there… Over the last 10 years, we have seen a much bigger expansion in the kinds of stories that have been told. So we’ve seen way more stories with racialized leads, more queer stories, more stories with disabilities. And that’s fabulous! But as you pointed out, when you go to the bookstore, that’s not necessarily common on all the shelves, all the time.
I think, probably every book I write in some way is a cheaper version of therapy that I then inflict on other people.
— Lily Chu
As a biracial female author, what does legacy mean to you? Does the concept of legacy impact the way you approach your career choices?
That’s a good question. I don’t think that I think of legacy in those terms, mostly because I prefer not to think of death — although a lot of my books have featured people in the death industry. I think, instead of legacy, I would prefer to look at my work as adding to the library of stories available, of which mine are some. Hopefully, someone who reads them is more willing to try other Asian biracial, racialized authors.
I am by no means the only biracial author. There’s Jackie Lau, who lives in my own city. There are a ton of biracial authors who are incredible, and they’re telling great stories. I think that in terms of a legacy, it would just be adding to that pool of stories that people can dip into.
Looking ahead, is there anything you can tell No Manners about your upcoming releases? Any themes we can look forward to?
I’ve had two releases so far this year. Just Kiss Already is my latest Audible Original, narrated by Philippa Sue and Simu Liu, which came out in March. The Library of Flowers just came out in May.
In June, I have my YA romance called The Vacation Shift. I’m super excited about it. It’s about a 16-year-old girl named Ivy, who goes on a bus tour through Japan. She ends up on a bus tour for a bunch of retirees, who are trying to get her mom together with this other kid’s dad. They have to work together to keep their parents apart.
In July, I have another print release. It’s called Rich Girl Summer, and it’s actually the print version of a book that came out in audio last year. It’s about Valerie, who’s a celebration of life planner who tackles a 30-year-old mystery by pretending to be a super-rich guy’s long-lost daughter. Really fun, summer cottage vibes.
In November or October — we’re not sure yet — I have a novella coming out which is basically a sequel to my previous book, The Comeback, which is a K-pop romance.
