this is not about sex.

This is a story about loss and control. About suicide, no God, you, and me.

Literally anybody. I’m SO serious. Hand it to your jazzy aunt who’s been living with her “best friend” for over a decade, gift it to a lonely neighbor - yeah, that one! Former favorite teacher, current coolest student... Mom, Dad, even the sibling you openly hate and secretly couldn’t ever imagine leaving behind. Above all else, sit down and look at these pages yourself. Once started, you will never ever go back to feeling lonely. I promise. One hundred and eleven percent. (ahh, this is already an inside joke between the reader and me. u can find it on page 167)
Go on, keep scrolling... 😏

the New Adult novel.

Her brother is dead. God is dead. Tomato, tomato. And now, Emmaline has asked me to write a book about losing… both guys!

idontwannatalkaboutit.com 🤠 This girl had a rough time starting way before adolescence and is quite astonished that her book can breathe at all, actually. Let me live... Speaking of which, there were multiple tumultuous phases during which any form of completion here seemed beyond impossible. The fact that I can confidently say that I am—“Done! Oh, my God!!”—speaks volumes, even if my ego loves that mute button. I am incredibly proud of this book, but more importantly, I am still alive to witness the greatest evocation (I mean publishing it lol). I will always be a mother because of this girl. And what one hell of a girl it is! Such an honor. Forever and always. Man… always. I miss Alan Rickman…

Besides consuming presumably 123 kilos of dried mango strips and now having found my No. 1 brand? Let’s see... I suppose there’s nothing quite like the sweetness of revision (the one before the final one during which you will lose actual brain cells). Re-reading paragraphs, and then something gently tiptoes on your nail beds, tickles you, and you think to yourself: “This word should come next,” or: “It would be great if I added that metaphor after this sentence…” and then you find out you already did that the last time! It’s about scooting over to yourself and realizing that thou know thyself a whole lot better than ever hoped for. Every single time this happened to me, I smiled. Because every single time this happened to me, I remembered: I can never be alone, for I exist within me. 💗 And guess what? You do, too. Writing is how I get back into conversation with myself. It works every single time. Highly recommended!! xxx