When I heard Magda’s three breathless words over the telephone that evening, I knew that her next sentence was not going to be, he’s broken his leg, or he’s having an affair or even he’s won the Nobel Prize, though all of those could have been the case. The timbre in her voice meant something far different...
So starts the first draft of my next novel, The Vining Plant. This is about a young bio-scientist whose friend commits suicide, unexpectedly. As he tries to fathom why a successful, healthy and seemingly happy man would do such a thing, Simmi is forced to confront both his own and his late friend's demons.
In this work I am exploring how differently we see each other. Simmeon discovers that he never really knew his friend, and perhaps never really knew himself.
Contact me about this work at firstname.lastname@example.org