a heartfelt exposition is creating pulp noir in space with a side of caffeine and rote humor
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patrons

A little over ten years ago, I almost kicked the bucket for good. From what I can tell, that's just a thing that almost happens, sometimes—especially to kids in my demographic (asian, millennial, queer, on top of struggling with chronic fatigue). 

I was just about dead set (get it?) on taking a near-permanent dirt nap, but I survived. I believed I wouldn't make it past twenty, and then the big 2-0 came and went. Just a fluke, I thought. I doubled down, believed I wouldn't make it past thirty—and then the bigger 3-0 came and went... and, well. What do you know, I'm still here. 

You might be wondering, "Why are you telling me all this?"

I've always used writing as an outlet. A way to work through problems, issues, ideas, questions, and everything in between. There were times writing was, really, my only voice. My only way of interacting with the rest of the world.

And, hell. I like to have fun doing it. I want to keep writing, to finish my novel, to get my short stories out there, to share my less-than-stellar experiences and get a retrospective recovery blog off the ground. 

I just need a little help. A little support. A little push and, maybe, a community to brave the ugly stars with.

Our first stop?

A binary star system of one living and one dead star. What was once a sprawling civilization now remains a surviving society scattered across the many moons of a red gas giant. And where we land is in In the living room of one disgruntled private eye missing an essential piece of human life—her heart. 

It's A Heart Act to Follow, but I'll do my damndest to try.
Tiers
Heartbeat
$1 or more per month

Every dollar takes a little bit of the weight off my neck, and keeps the heart going. Thank you for your support.

Grants access to all basic patreon posts.

Heartfelt
$5 or more per month

In addition to the above, a digital copy of my upcoming novel, A Heart Act to Follow, and my deepest, sincerest, gratitude. 

A little over ten years ago, I almost kicked the bucket for good. From what I can tell, that's just a thing that almost happens, sometimes—especially to kids in my demographic (asian, millennial, queer, on top of struggling with chronic fatigue). 

I was just about dead set (get it?) on taking a near-permanent dirt nap, but I survived. I believed I wouldn't make it past twenty, and then the big 2-0 came and went. Just a fluke, I thought. I doubled down, believed I wouldn't make it past thirty—and then the bigger 3-0 came and went... and, well. What do you know, I'm still here. 

You might be wondering, "Why are you telling me all this?"

I've always used writing as an outlet. A way to work through problems, issues, ideas, questions, and everything in between. There were times writing was, really, my only voice. My only way of interacting with the rest of the world.

And, hell. I like to have fun doing it. I want to keep writing, to finish my novel, to get my short stories out there, to share my less-than-stellar experiences and get a retrospective recovery blog off the ground. 

I just need a little help. A little support. A little push and, maybe, a community to brave the ugly stars with.

Our first stop?

A binary star system of one living and one dead star. What was once a sprawling civilization now remains a surviving society scattered across the many moons of a red gas giant. And where we land is in In the living room of one disgruntled private eye missing an essential piece of human life—her heart. 

It's A Heart Act to Follow, but I'll do my damndest to try.

Recent posts by a heartfelt exposition

Tiers
Heartbeat
$1 or more per month

Every dollar takes a little bit of the weight off my neck, and keeps the heart going. Thank you for your support.

Grants access to all basic patreon posts.

Heartfelt
$5 or more per month

In addition to the above, a digital copy of my upcoming novel, A Heart Act to Follow, and my deepest, sincerest, gratitude.