Category: Literature

learning how to live in a world in which I do not belong

A Brave New World

Feeling trapped by rejection and societal expectations, the narrator reflects on career struggles and mental health. Amid contemplating the numbing effects of psychiatric medication, they grapple with identity, creativity, and the desire for authenticity in a “Brave New World.” Hope lies in redefining purpose beyond societal norms.

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three witches riding off into the great unknown

Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett

With over ten thousand books under my belt, I live and breathe literature, from classic novels to baby board books. This blog is a space for me to share my passion, starting with Terry Pratchett’s Witches Abroad. Through its exploration of the power of stories, I reflect on how art shapes us and the importance of creating our own narratives.

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The Cull: Prologue One

In the still of the night, where moments of crisis intersect with tales of the inexplicable, the maternity ward of the Royal Perth Hospital (as imagined in fiction) became an eerie tableau of unfolding horror. The odds-defying birth of girls only, a stumbling, exhausted father, and the sudden, harrowing cascade of emergencies set a scene as chilling as any thriller. Amidst the lockdown and the pulsing red alarm, Dr. Amelia Taylor stood, tablet in hand, decisions weighing heavily on her. Outside, the world had tipped into chaos, with the sanctuary of the ward morphing into a bastion against a crisis far greater than any could have anticipated. This narrative is a gripping reminder of the fragile veneer of calm in the face of unfathomable events.

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woman standing on a cliff watching the world burn

Crazy, Not Stupid

Navigating a mid-life crisis with a twist, the author reflects on abandoning practical life for artistic dreams. Contemplating fears, career shifts, and the surreal turn their life has taken, they embrace the unknown, wondering what lies ahead in this unconventional journey.

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A Host of Golden Daffodils

A skeptic about poetry, I’ve always found it too rhythmic, too rhyming, too unsubtle. Yet, encountering a host of golden daffodils by the sea, Wordsworth’s poem burst into my mind, unbidden but awe-inspiring. It made me appreciate the imagery and emotion that poetry can convey, even to those who resist it.

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