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Ah, the teenage years. Angst, zits, too tight jeans and sweat. So much sweat. Suffocation from deodorant, bruises from bullies and the sense that one day you're going to be someone who changes the world. Until you end up homeless in a red station wagon, sleeping by your mother's side atop boxes of your belongs. Yes, nothing quite like those fledgling years into adulthood. In this collection of poetry nobody asked for are hilarious failures, overly sentimental musings, sweaty palms and stuttering debates. Written by a teen, for teens, filled with teenage thoughts. In other words it's probably…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
Ah, the teenage years. Angst, zits, too tight jeans and sweat. So much sweat. Suffocation from deodorant, bruises from bullies and the sense that one day you're going to be someone who changes the world. Until you end up homeless in a red station wagon, sleeping by your mother's side atop boxes of your belongs. Yes, nothing quite like those fledgling years into adulthood. In this collection of poetry nobody asked for are hilarious failures, overly sentimental musings, sweaty palms and stuttering debates. Written by a teen, for teens, filled with teenage thoughts. In other words it's probably hot garbage but the kind you enjoy. Like your favourite soap drama. Will it survive the shower? Can it really clean those stains? Was it scented? Sometimes we need a good soap drama in short, written form. Something to remind us we're all human, not a perfect walking super brand advertisement. Fallible, stumbling, not always logical, sacks of hormones with a vertebrae - that's us. So come, enjoy the wild emotions trapped in ink and bound to resurrected trees. Take a safari through the wilderness that divides childhood from the adult years. Fingers crossed you survive. *Please note this is a rebranded edition of my book Antediluvian Man. If you already purchased it, congrats, you have the original collector's edition. This new version was due for a long time because, in the end, who besides Noah really knew what Antediluvian meant?*
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Autorenporträt
Poet. Novelist. Dream maker. Chris Foster was so inspired by the rolling mist of the Blue Mountains he wrote an international award winning poem. He also stood in the middle of the street getting wet and not understanding why everyone else was going inside. It was his first day in the village. Thankfully the next two hundred days of mist provided ample ambiance for him to write his first novel. Then the next. And the next... Since then he has gone on to write publish numerous books, become a bestseller, live in a car homeless, appear in several anthologies with other authors and have over twenty manuscripts under construction. His works are predominately Poetry collections and Speculative Fiction, both tainted by his quirky sense of humour. He can be found at www.chrisfosterwrites.com