I write for those who, when—in real life, or a book, or a song—they touch something that makes them shiver, don’t turn and run, but turn and follow. For those who aren’t afraid of what they don’t know. Those who love to discover something new, something different.
I write for those who live for the build and vertiginous drop, that rush of reversal, the knowledge that It’s about to happen: the secret be revealed, the aliens land, the theory unfurl. I write for those who actively seek awe. Whether a flint in the moss or a moth you’ve never seen, the turn of a verb or toss of a delicious head—it thrills you to your marrow, it gives you a frisson. You hear the theremin in your head.
I write for those attuned to theremins.