Important Announcement
On September 23rd, my last book is set to be released.
And that will be my last book.
After years of unstoppable effort, sleepless nights, and endless days, I’ve reached my limit. I’ve decided that I’m not going to keep crashing against the same wall, a wall that won’t fall. I’ve done everything that was in my hands. I’ve taken willpower from where there was only exhaustion left. I’ve done what I could with what I had, and all my effort, my passion, and my endless strain have been met with the most absolute silence.
Being completely ignored, overlooked, brushed off, and passed over not only by the literary and film industries, but also by the community and the general public, has taken an emotional and psychological toll on me that I can’t—nor am I willing to—bear anymore.
I’ve never been a quitter. I’ve fought my whole life for everything I wanted and everything I got, but the frustration, helplessness, and depression are continuously being fed by the lack of reaction to what I create, by a deep rejection of me and what I represent. It’s become unbearable, and I don’t think I deserve to feel this way. I do believe I deserve better.
I know my books and my screenplays are good. They’re original, they break with the ordinary, and each and every one of them has hundreds of hours of research, study, and reflection behind them. My projects are good. More than 30 awards endorse them. I’m talented: I write and publish simultaneously in two different languages, I design, I edit image and sound, I dub and I act. This is not arrogance. It’s the reality.
This is who I am.
Why is the wall I’m facing made of reinforced concrete, while for others it is made out of paper?
I don’t want any inspirational comments trying to talk me out of my decision. If you wanted to support me, there were enough years and opportunities for you to do so. I don’t need empty and meaningless words of support now. Save them.
I’ll always love writing, but all these years, this has been a one-way, unrequited love. I can’t afford to keep working without getting anything in exchange. Without retribution. That writing is my passion and what I love doesn’t mean that I have to do it for free. I have sacrificed myself in the past by deciding whether to eat or use that money for something I thought was more important, but I’m not 24 anymore. That time is long gone.
For all these reasons, out of hope and with my heart broken from knowing that all what I have done until now is worthless, I’ve decided that it’s time to stop. I can’t keep chasing something that runs on a motorbike while I’m in a square-wheeled wheelchair.
Sometimes, the lack of an answer is also an answer, and this silence has become too loud to ignore it.
