About the Author

Kurt is a young author who published his first work in his Senior year of Highschool when he decided he didn't need to wait for anyone to tell him he was allowed to start creating work. Artists don't need permission to make beautiful things (or at least things they find to be beautiful) and waiting for someone to come along and say "Hey, you're good at this! We think it's time you publish a book!" is a waste of creative years.

He's thought for a long time about what kind of book he would create. Whatever he created, he knew it had to be personal. Personal to the point he would be nervous about people reading it. That means including everything from childhood trauma to abuse to his own insecurities day to day. That's the only way it could be done and that is exactly how he did it. Now, he has a published book at 18 years old. A book he's proud of because he was honest. 

Why does it have to be Personal?

Writing is such a tedious and at times frustrating activity that to do it from a place that isn't authentic... is to throw away hours of your life in the name of nothing. 

No one wants to read something you wrote that you do not believe in. I believe fully that if you write something that is true to yourself (which isn't an easy task) then there are guaranteed to be people out there who relate, who enjoy, or people who find understanding in your work. 

I try to see every piece of work I put to paper through this lense of authenticity. 

 

 

When the writing's going bad...

Sometimes when you're writing you hit that unbreakable wall and you're prone to enter the coma-like statue states of pain you'll see I've entered in these photos.

Have no fear.

The waves of writer's block pass eventually. And when they do you can get back to work. Although I often think, when you're writing from a truthful place, it can be just as painful as not being able to write at all.

We write not because we enjoy it... but because we'd go mad doing anything else.

First Poem He Ever Wrote...

When we met. 

Two unstoppable forces 

By chance 

Met

In a place they’d never

Been before

 

And when they looked at each other

It felt like crying tears 

Of happiness 

And relief 

Forever