This space will hold my stories, sonnets, poems, and other works of art; each one shaped by the world around me. Inspiration arrives from anywhere it pleases: the hush of nature, the chaos of the news cycle, the warmth and ache of family, or the small, strange moments that cling to memory.
Ghost Writer’s Lament is still under construction. The shelves are being dusted, the ink bottles arranged, the lanterns lit one by one. Thank you for your patience while I carve out this little corner of the world for my words to haunt.
Soon, this archive will fill with fragments, fictions, laments, and quiet storms; all written with intention, all protected by candlelight.
The ink is only just beginning to flow.
