Hey! I'm a lifelong fan of storytelling. I've been writing for years and still get excited every time a new idea comes to life on the page. Creating characters, building worlds, and exploring emotions through fiction is something I never get tired of.
Reading has always been a huge part of my life too. I especially love the classics - Les Misérables holds a permanent spot at the top of my list. There's something incredible about being pulled into another world and seeing life through someone else's eyes.
When I’m not reading or writing, I’m usually outside. I love being in nature, staying active, and snowboarding whenever I get the chance. Exercise clears my head and often inspires new creative sparks.
Thanks for checking out my page - always happy to connect with fellow book lovers.
P.S. Want a sneak peek at what i’m writing? I'm sharing daily readings from my works in progress over on YouTube and TikTok - little bits of story, fresh from the writing desk ✍️📚
Come hang out, hear what i’ve been working on, and maybe even fall in love with a character or two 🖤
Reading Solitude was an intense experience. For the vast majority of the book, I felt trapped inside Zion's mind, an anti-hero who was not meant to be liked. He hated society, admitted to past manipulation of others, explored self-harm and showed animal cruelty. There were moments I thought I couldn't continue reading it. Zion's internal monologue was a suffocating mixture of narcissism and insecurity rooted in his adoption. He used his intelligence to justify his isolation, viewing the world as "fake" to protect himself from being hurt again. The writing effectively captured the "numbness" of depression, where even the pain is welcomed as a sign of life. The revelation of his betrayal of his best friend, Jacob, was where the book shifted. It moved from a story about a "victim" of depression to a story about a man who should take accountability for the "villain" he became. The epilogue was the oxygen I desperately needed. It moved the story 180 degrees. By choosing to fight his "inner demons" instead of surrendering to them, he stopped the transfer of pain to those who loved him (Trish, Jen, and his parents). Solitude was not a "feel-good" book. It was brutal, cold, and often disturbing. But it ended as a testament for survival: while the "war within" never truly ends, the decision to stay and fight is the ultimate victory.