88

This is my book ~.~ It's a love letter to my favorite island home, written over the course of 88 days in Reykjavik, Iceland, during one glorious and apocalyptic autumn season.

I've known for years that I would write it in 2012, starting on my birthday, but I didn't really understand how much it would mean to me. I'd like to share with you all, and give you the chance to purchase your own copy via the Blurb Online Bookstore.


Since I was 17 I've known that I have the same birthday as F. Scott Fitzgerald, and that we're both born in the Year of the Monkey, he in 1896, me in 1968. I knew that he died far too young of alcoholism, at age 44, and so decided that I'd try starting up where he left off and begin to write with dedication at that same age.

A few years ago I discovered something that frankly boggled me: F. Scott passed away on December 21st, 1940, at 44 years and 88 days old. It just so happened that I would turn 44 years and 88 days old on December 21st, 2012, the famous end day of the Mayan calendar. So a decision was made. I'd start writing on our birthday. And because he drank himself to death, I'd even try living a bit of his lifestyle while writing. So I had a plan from the start. But what I didn't account for were all the things that happened during those days, and how they were to influence how the story unfolded: life, death, sex... and love.

Buy yourself a copy and take the journey I took, experiencing the autumn season of a white girl living on a volcano who knew she was supposed to die.