I didn’t want to write a manifesto.

I wanted to write a novel that would change my life.

But somewhere between rejection letters, sleepless nights, and losing pieces of myself in the algorithms and expectations, this thing started to take shape. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t pretty. But it was true. And it demanded to be written.

The result? A book called This Is Where Lonely Hearts Go. And I’m telling you about it here, first.

This isn’t some cutesy guide to “figuring it all out by 25.”

This is a knife disguised as a book. A call to arms for anyone who’s ever looked at their life, their work, their dreams—and thought: Why the hell does it still feel like I’m not there yet?

It’s not fiction. It’s not sugarcoated.

It’s a chapter-by-chapter gut check for every writer, creator, and soul-searcher still in the thick of it.

Still wondering if their voice matters.

Still fighting for focus in a world addicted to noise.

Still waking up at 3 a.m. asking, Is this all there is?

Here’s the truth:

You haven’t peaked.

You’re not behind.

You’re just getting started.

I wrote this for the ones who are tired of chasing curated lives.

For those still figuring it out while the world’s trying to convince them they’re already late.

For the ones building something real—without applause, without shortcuts, without guarantees.

This Is Where Lonely Hearts Go is for us.

And because you’re here, reading this, showing up in this space I’ve carved out of chaos—I wanted you to hear it first.

The book is coming. Soon.

I’ll be revealing the cover, the full chapter list, and some exclusive excerpts only here, on Substack.

If you’ve ever found a piece of yourself in anything I’ve written—this is the thing I made for you.

Stay loud. Stay honest.

Keep creating like the world’s watching—and like no one is.