Dipifica And The Deadly Sinvelopes
Dedicated to younger me. I wrote this book in 2017? Or so? And I published it all actually. Then I deleted it. Ashamed it wasn't good enough, probably. I... Don't like that. So this is for you, little me. Six years younger me. We're turning twenty soon and you've kept us here all the way. So here is to the foundation of my writing as it is today. And many more silly or crazy or serious or important or batshit or soft, cuddly writing because it's a part of who I am, somehow someway.
The description from back then:
Dipifica, red envelopes and the seven deadly sins. What could go wrong?
Ps. Don't be deceived by the title this book sucks.
(Hush younger self, the book is a book and that's a freaking vibe. You enjoyed writing it so shh.)
