I’m working on a new book.  And almost done!! working on the cover and some proofing. As of now I call it:

The Sky:  A Poetic Fable About Burnout, Grief, and the Stars We Use Too Fast
About a boy who travels through stars in search of meaning, only to discover the truth about life, death, and the universe.

Its a lyrical prose story. Sci-fi.
It’s like The Little Prince — but for the version of you who stayed up late wondering if you’re too much, or not enough.

It’s about the questions we carry quietly.  
About the ache you can’t explain to anyone.  
About trying so hard to be good, and still feeling like you’re getting it wrong.
It’s soft. Slow. Honest.  

Not a story with a hero—just someone trying to stay.

If The Little Prince made you cry without knowing why—  
this is for that same part of you, a little older now, still reaching.

Here is an excerpt:

Each star shimmered in his hands.  

But once caught, they never shone again.  

And he did not notice.  

He burned through them without fear.  

They gave him motion.  

Feeling.  

Life.  

But stars are not endless.