You've done everything they told you to do. So why do you still feel stuck?
It’s not because you’re worse. You’ve been hurt more—and yet you’re still here, still trying, even after all the advice let you down.
You don't even know how powerful you are.
This book offers the kind of mirror the others are afraid to hold up for you. Wounded Angels shows you what healing really feels like—for the author, and for you, too.
David Deane Haskell spent 40 years buried in guilt after his mother’s sudden death. Therapy didn’t help. How-to books weren't enough. Nothing changed—until he stopped blocking the pain and started listening to the child inside.
Your healing doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be real.
What you’ll experience ✔️ What inner child healing feels like—not theory, but lived transformation ✔️ How to stay present with shame, rage, and grief—without running ✔️ Why healing isn’t a breakthrough moment—but a sacred undoing
“David, thank you for this remarkable book. You have such a clear, distinctive voice. You are also gifted with both courage and resilience. Beautifully written.” — Carolyn Dever, PhD, Guggenheim Fellow, Professor of Creative Writing, Dartmouth
If something stirred while reading this—listen to it. What does your inner child want you to do right now? This might be the moment your healing actually begins.
David Deane Haskell is an author of Sweeping Science Fiction Worlds and Deep Recovery Memoirs, exploring the high-stakes intersection of AI Ethics, future technologies, and Inner Child Mindfulness.
Writing from the painful experience of profound transformation, David seeks to bridge the gap between fiction and non-fiction, finding that grounded middle that keeps us healing, and hopeful, through the art of story connection.
His memoir Wounded Angels is a raw, intimate plunge into addiction, self-loathing, and the long road out. His fiction weaves AI futures with ancient echoes, where machines dream and broken hearts remember how to feel. Every word is written for those who’ve tried everything and still ache for truth. If that’s you—welcome home.