Book Review

The Voiceless

Writing can be a quiet act, but its echoes carry far. Through words, we can speak for those who cannot — whether silenced by circumstance, history, or fear. Being a voice for the voiceless doesn’t always require a podium; sometimes, it just takes a pen and the courage to tell the stories that matter...

نوشتن می‌تواند کاری آرام باشد و پژواک آن تا دوردست‌ها برسد. با واژه‌ها می‌توانیم از سوی کسانی بنویسیم که آوایی  ندارند — کسانی که برای دگرگونی‌ها، گذشته، یا هراس خاموش شده‌اند. آوای بی‌آواها بودن همیشه نیاز به بلندگو
...ندارد؛ گاهی تنها نوشتن وکمی  دلیری برای گفتن داستان‌هایی که ارج دارند بس است

One Month

The kittens are officially one month old!
Pishi is a proud mama...

Two Perspectives

Perspectives...

Me:
Some mornings,
the sunrise is so spectacular,
I can't help but sit by the window,
open my laptop,
and let the words come pouring in.

Pishi:
Some mornings,
the sky clearly knows I’ve awakened.

It dresses in brilliance,
pours gold across the floor,
and says,
“Yes, Pishi.
The world is ready for your words.”

So I stretch,
yawn,
and allow my editor to open the laptop.
The magic flows from there.

Indie April...

... and Not a Single Sale

Maybe that’s what happens
when you don’t sugarcoat your life
or turn trauma into clickbait.

I’ve written about
childhood chaos,
cabin-building isolation,
linguistic obsession,
loss,
grief,
and finding meaning in mess.

My books don’t come
with fake smiles
or market-tested formulas.
They come with bruises —
with truth.

So no...
I won’t perform for the algorithm.
I won’t package myself as “relatable.”

But...
if you’re tired of polished lies
and hungry for something real,
I’ve got stories
that cut through the noise.
And they’re waiting for you.

#IndieApril #Memoir #IndieAuthor #ReadReal 

Cats & Writing

What do cats and writing have in common?

Both sneak up when you’re not ready.
Both ignore you when you call.
Both destroy things you thought were fine.
Both vanish mid-thought.

I'm surprised writing doesn't have whiskers.

The Prodigal Sun

The Return of the Prodigal Sun

She’s here...
no grand entrance...
no apology
for her absence —
just casually streaming through the window
like nothing happened.
And honestly?
I’m too grateful to be mad.