In writing, I aim at the strange, messed-up poetic, not the pink frilled variety, but the one with dark, rough edges that leave you hurt, yet wanting more. I love to get into the heads of my characters and to find that one sentence that tingles like electricity on your skin. As an ardent reader that’s what I value most in the books I read myself.
After years of writing short pieces, I wrote my first long story in the 3-months frenzy of a semester break. Now, to be able to devote most of my time to writing, I travel long-term and low-budget (friends and family also call me ‘the homeless bum’) with the added advantage that the myriad of random encounters and experiences on the road provide just the right material to make for rich and lively, yet delicate stories. Nothing beats writing in a café in some strange country while watching passersby, especially if the coffee is cheap and the passersby weird.