A Note Before the Next Story

Because one story was ready to become a book

This week, I’m pausing the usual storytelling rhythm.

Not because the stories have run out, but because one of them has finally reached its last page.

After years of writing fragments, memories, and moments that kept knocking from the inside, I can now say this with quiet certainty: the memoir is ready.

All that remains is the final step—
a matter of a few days—
before it steps out into the world.

The book cover is revealed here.

Seeing it feels a little like holding a completed conversation in my hands.
One that began long ago—in scattered thoughts and half-written lines.

This is my first book, and I offer it humbly.

I didn’t write it with a grand plan or a publishing strategy in mind. I wrote it because some stories insist on being told before they fade into polite silence.

At its heart, this book begins with a loss that quietly rearranged everything that came after.

But what these pages hold is not grief told in grey. They are coloured by memory—by the warmth of laughter that survived, by moments that still smile back, and by a resilience that learned to live alongside absence rather than be defeated by it.

And before you wonder…
this is not a sad rendering of life.

It carries sorrow, yes, but also laughter that arrives unannounced, humour that softens difficult truths, and wit that keeps the pages turning even when the heart pauses.

---

The Blurb

This is not a story about how life broke someone.
It’s about how life kept speaking…
and someone finally listened.

Told through memories that move gently between tenderness and irony, this memoir brings together moments of growing up, becoming, losing, and quietly finding one’s way back.

It walks through joy and grief with equal honesty,
often smiling at itself, sometimes sitting in silence, and always remembering that life is rarely just one thing at a time.

With layers of humour, wit, and sorrow, these pages don’t ask for sympathy—
they invite recognition.

You may find your own memories nodding along,
smiling at familiar absurdities,
or pausing at lines that feel unexpectedly close to home.

This is a book for anyone who knows that life’s deepest stories are rarely dramatic all the way through—
and that even in our heaviest chapters, there’s often a line that makes us smile.

---

Thank you for reading, for staying, and for allowing my stories a place in your time.
The book is ready. The launch is just days away.