Author has written 3 stories for Romance.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
Historically, some time ago, the likes of me died tragic lonely deaths in grisly insane asylums. Lunatic poets, things in their heads more real - and so much more interesting - than the world around them. And no one truly understood.
That's the darkly romantic view. In cynical reality, I'm twenty-something, a student (although I have yet to discover the actual point of my studies), a bit of a freak and rather proud of it (whenever being a bit of a freak doesn't mean having to seek medical attention), a passionate writer, a sworn theatre/movie/music/arts/culture enthusiast. A weirdly clueless perfectionist (I never know when a minor failure drives me crazy and when I just laugh my head off at it). An introverted awkward moron, really. Far too ambitious and starry-eyed and thirsting for brilliant things. Stupid and soppy. Self-ironic, but only when it can't disturb my blissful self-pity.
Of course, I can also be the sun-shiniest of people. Overjoyed when I find a perfect tin box of biscuits (seriously, it had Scottish Terriers on it!) or eat pizza or see a tight-rope walker or hear a fantastic song I've never heard before or a duck quacks at me at the park or something just clicks in my head and I know the exact words to describe something. I can go around sighing and swooning because everything is just so beautiful. Or I can sit in my flat sobbing like an idiot because nothing is beautiful at all. Sometimes I'm balanced and together, too.
My work here:
(Naturally, to be updated as we go on. Since I love to talk about my own writings, I think I will talk about them here a little, even though I'm also constantly making pompous remarks like "A work of art should stand on its own without any explanations from its creator".)
"How to find happiness when you see yourself as emotionally crippled, hellishly lonely and trapped in something you can't name."
This was originally supposed to be a light-hearted little romance thing, but I'm afraid it turned out to be anything but. It's about love and soul-mates and anxiety issues and imagination and loneliness and dogs and theatre and families and cars and books and religion and fairies and rain and cardigans. Complete.
A fairy tale. "Kit has cobwebs in his mind."
"How to find happiness when only a few things glimmer." An independent sequel to Imaginary Beings.
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