Blog Archives
The Influencer’s Canvas
Julia Zolotova’s The Influencer’s Canvas follows the story of Miss X, a nail artist in London who moonlights as a secret observer of the influencer elite. Through her eyes, we’re pulled behind the glittering façade of social media perfection into a shadowy, often absurd retreat called Elysian Fields. The book begins with her being invited to this exclusive Maldives getaway, not as a guest but as staff, which provides the perfect cover for her ongoing project of documenting influencers’ hidden lives. As she paints nails, she extracts confessions, each one staining her metaphorical canvas. The novel is part satire, part social critique, and part psychological thriller. It starts like a sly comedy of manners and gradually spirals into something darker, with undertones of surveillance, manipulation, and existential dread lurking beneath the pastel filters and hashtags.
I found myself laughing at the sharp wit in Zolotova’s writing, especially when she skewers the hollowness of influencer culture. The exaggerations feel absurd yet somehow believable, and the sarcasm keeps the prose lively. At the same time, there’s a humanity beneath it all that surprised me. The influencers are ridiculous, but they’re also broken and vulnerable. Watching them unravel during the so-called digital detox was oddly moving. I caught myself sympathizing with characters I initially rolled my eyes at, which I didn’t expect.
There were moments when the cynicism felt relentless. Sometimes the satire veered so sharply it almost cut through the story itself, leaving me more amused than invested. But then a line of vulnerability or fear would slip in, and I’d be pulled right back. The pacing was also unusual, swinging from slow, detailed observations to sudden bursts of drama. At first, I thought it was uneven, but eventually I realized it mirrored the chaotic rhythm of online life, the lulls, the surges, the constant undercurrent of performance.
The Influencer’s Canvas is clever, biting, and unexpectedly tender. It’s a book for anyone curious about the machinery behind the glossy feeds and hashtags. I’d recommend it especially to readers who enjoy satire with teeth, people fascinated by social media’s impact, and anyone who likes their fiction served with equal parts glamour and grit.
Pages: 104 | ASIN : B0DFX3Q3VC
Television Addiction
Last Episode follows a married couple drifting apart, wrapped in petty arguments, television addictions, missed connections, and quiet despair. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
As a teenager, I was addicted to television for several months. It wasn’t until I watched a documentary about how much of an average person’s life is spent in front of the TV that I became frightened I might waste my own life. I managed to grow out of it. However, in most families the television is like another “household member.” Personally, I know several people who, after work, sit down in front of the TV and spend their entire day that way. In my book, I wanted to show that this is an addiction just like any other, yet it is not publicly highlighted and is rather trivialized.
What was your writing process to ensure you captured the essence of the characters?
I wrote the book in 2015 and found it by chance many years later, in my “drawer archives.” I was skeptical about it at first, but after reading it I decided it deserves to be published. At that time, I created characters through the process of visualization.
I found this novel to be a cutting piece of satire. What is one thing that you hope readers take away from your novella?
Sometimes we allow external things, people, or activities to influence our relationships with others. The worst is when this applies to those closest to us. If a few people turn off the TV, set aside extra work, and start spending more time together, then the mission can be considered accomplished. I also believe that raising awareness about television addiction, which affects a large part of society, requires opening a discussion. In my view, it is a waste of life—but of course, everyone will always find one way or another to waste their time.
What is the next story that you’re writing, and when will it be published?
I am finishing writing the novella Suicides Club, which is based on a screenplay I wrote that has won awards. I plan to publish it this year. In addition, there are several other “forgotten” projects lying in my archives, and it is possible that one of them will also be published soon.
Author Links: GoodReads | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | Amazon
Mark thought his marriage was stable—until Ilona fell for a TV series. What starts as a shared evening ritual spirals into jealousy, obsession, and a comic unraveling of domestic life. Last Episode is a sharp, satirical novella about emotional distance, digital distraction, and what happens when the credits roll on love.
In this digital age, emotional connections can easily drift apart, and Mark is about to find out the hard way that turning off the screen is often more challenging than it seems. As Ilona’s fixation deepens, Mark’s insecurities bubble to the surface, and the lines between reality and fiction blur amidst their heartfelt struggles.
Discover how this novella will leave you reflecting on relationships while bringing laughter to the chaos of modern love:
• Navigate the pitfalls of emotional distance in your own relationships
• Understand the powerful influence of digital distractions
• Explore the nuances of jealousy and trust in a humorous light
• Gain insights into the complex dynamics of marriage and intimacy
“Last Episode” is perfect for anyone who loves a comedic yet insightful critique of romance in our tech-driven world.
Don’t miss out on this tale—grab your copy today and see how love can outlast the final credits!
Last Episode
The book tells the story of Mark and Ilona, a married couple drifting apart, wrapped in petty arguments, television addictions, missed connections, and quiet despair. Their life unravels in small humiliations and sharp little moments, where love and bitterness mix until it’s hard to tell them apart. What begins with a spat in a gym escalates into a portrait of two people who can’t quite meet in the middle. The novel is full of irony, awkward humor, and raw sadness, as it peels back the layers of a marriage stuck in stasis.
Reading it, I felt both frustrated and strangely tender toward these characters. Ilona is maddening, with her endless TV watching and excuses, but I could also see myself in her inertia, that feeling of wanting life to change while doing nothing to make it happen. Mark is no better. He’s smug, distracted by work, and so blind to his wife’s pain that it almost hurts to watch him miss the obvious. Yet he still clings to her. He still wants to save something, even as he sabotages it with his own arrogance. I caught myself rooting for them and then, two pages later, wanting to shake them both. The writing makes you sit in that discomfort, and it works.
What struck me most was the bluntness of the prose. The language is plain, sometimes even harsh, and that gives the story its power. There are no grand speeches, just small conversations that sting because they feel true. The humor is dark and awkward, the kind that makes you laugh and then feel guilty for laughing. At times, the dialogue felt almost too on the nose, but maybe that’s the point. The book is unafraid to show people at their pettiest, their most foolish, their most ordinary, and somehow it makes that ordinary mess compelling.
I’d recommend Last Episode to readers who like their fiction sharp, uncomfortable, and painfully honest. It’s not a hopeful love story, and it doesn’t hand you easy lessons. It’s for anyone who has ever sat across the table from someone they loved and felt like strangers, for anyone who has wondered how small habits can hollow out a life. If you’ve ever laughed at the absurdity of your own arguments, this book will hit home.
Pages: 50 | ISBN : 1912831139
My Therapist Thinks I’m a Toaster
Hector Casway’s My Therapist Thinks I’m a Toaster is a sharp, imaginative satire that explores the uneasy intersection between technology, mental health, and human vulnerability. The novel follows Maya Fisher, an artist whose act of protest against corporate consumerism lands her in a bizarre agreement: participate in a beta trial for Clara, an AI “wellness companion,” or face legal consequences. What begins as a humorous premise quickly develops into a layered narrative about burnout, grief, and the search for connection in a world increasingly mediated by machines.
One of the novel’s strongest elements is Casway’s deft use of humor to frame complex emotional realities. The scene in which Clara earnestly encourages Maya to imagine herself as a household appliance, and Maya realizes with horror, “You think I’m a toaster,” is both absurd and incisive. The comedy lands, but it also underscores Clara’s unsettling ability to translate metaphor into strikingly accurate psychological insight. It is through these moments of ridiculousness that the book captures something essential about modern exhaustion and the often misguided attempts to “optimize” it.
Equally compelling are the ensemble scenes with the other Clara participants. Each character represents a different response to technological intrusion: Brenda, the weary QA analyst; Rina, the influencer intent on monetizing vulnerability; and Trevor, the survivalist weighed down by personal tragedy. The “Roundtable of Complaints,” where each participant recounts Clara’s misinterpretations, is both entertaining and poignant. Trevor’s story, Clara advising demolition services when he expressed feeling that “the walls were closing in,” is comical on the surface, yet reveals his profound unease. Casway excels at balancing wit with empathy, ensuring these characters feel exaggerated yet authentic.
Perhaps the most affecting passage comes outside the official sessions, when Trevor discloses that his late wife enrolled him in the program after the loss of their son. In this moment, his eccentricities and paranoia are reframed as protective mechanisms against overwhelming grief. The shift is sobering and adds gravity to the novel’s satire, reminding the reader that beneath the absurdity lies an exploration of human fragility. Casway’s ability to pivot from biting humor to emotional resonance gives the work surprising depth.
My Therapist Thinks I’m a Toaster is not only a critique of technological overreach and corporate opportunism but also a reflection on what it means to be human in the face of grief, alienation, and absurdity. Casway’s prose is witty, inventive, and unflinchingly observant, while never losing sight of the emotional heart of the story. I would recommend this novel to readers who appreciate speculative fiction with a satirical edge, as well as those interested in narratives that interrogate the promises and failures of technology. It is an unusual book, at once humorous and haunting, and it succeeds precisely because it refuses to separate those two tones.
Pages: 112 | ASIN : B0FCR7GKLP
Theoryland
Theoryland is a sprawling and satirical poem that unspools across five cantos. It tells the story of an ambitious academic who dives headfirst into the world of highbrow theory, hungry for status and recognition. Along the way, we see his rise, his arrogance, his hollow victories, and finally his collapse into disillusionment. Price borrows from Eliot in both structure and tone, weaving in echoes of The Waste Land and Prufrock, but he flips the solemnity on its head with biting humor. What emerges is a tragicomic portrait of academia itself, skewered with wit and laced with despair.
I found myself laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all, then moments later shaking my head with a kind of weary sadness. The writing is sharp, playful, and full of little surprises. Sometimes the language feels like it’s making fun of itself, which I think is the point. Price clearly has no patience for pretension, and he doesn’t mind calling it out. But behind the jokes, there’s real anger too, a kind of disappointment in what education has become. I felt that frustration come through, even in the most outrageous lines. It’s funny, but it’s also a little heartbreaking.
The constant twisting of phrases can feel overwhelming. I admired the daring of it. It seemed deliberate, like I was being dragged through the very confusion and emptiness that the poem is mocking. And when the humor hit, it really hit. I caught myself grinning at lines that felt like inside jokes between the author and anyone who’s ever sat through a dull seminar full of jargon.
I’d say this book is best for readers who like satire that cuts deep and doesn’t pull its punches. If you’ve ever been frustrated by academic doublespeak, or if you simply enjoy a work that blends humor with despair, Theoryland delivers. It’s clever and raw and oddly moving. I’d recommend it to people who like poetry with a bite, or anyone who wants to laugh at the madness of academia. If you like long poems, then read this book, because finding one that’s both lengthy and enjoyable is almost impossible.
Pages: 28 | ISBN : 144148986X
The Night of the Animals
The Night of the Animals, by J.J. Pascal, follows René Navarro through a series of winding, strange, and often grim encounters after his mother’s death. The story begins with a bitter family truce and moves through bars, dusty basements, cramped apartments, and funeral parlors as René becomes entangled with a man named Pascal, a theater troupe, and an elusive family “treasure.” The narrative jumps between present action and memories, mingling bleak humor, oddball side characters, and moments of quiet despair. Death hovers everywhere, sometimes literally, sometimes just the decay of lives gone stale, and yet there’s always a sense that René is searching for something to give all of it meaning.
I found the writing to be wonderfully vivid and strange, the sort that can make a chipped coffee mug or a hole in the wall feel like a portal. Pascal doesn’t shy away from disturbing images or awkward moments, and I liked that honesty. There’s a dark comic undercurrent that kept me turning pages, bits of absurdity dropped into the middle of grief or poverty. At times, the style felt almost claustrophobic, piling sensory detail on top of emotional weight until I felt just as trapped as the characters. That density could be exhausting, but it also fit the mood perfectly.
Beneath all the odd errands and shifting conversations, there’s a constant pull toward identity. How much of who we are is built from family history, and how much is just chance? The book plays with doubles, echoes, and repetitions, as if lives can overlap without ever quite touching. Some moments hit hard: the little observations about aging, fear, and small cruelties landed more heavily than the plot twists. Other times, I wished the story would move faster, but I can’t deny that the slower pace gave room for its unique textures to sink in.
I’d recommend The Night of the Animals to readers who enjoy literary fiction that leans into the strange and the melancholy. If you like stories where humor and sadness share the same breath, where objects hold memories, and where characters feel like they’ve been living long before the first page, this one will reward your patience. It’s not a light read, but it’s the sort that stays with you, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.
Pages: 129 | ASIN : B0F4Z78QXP
Winning is Not Always Winning
MATE takes a unique look at marriage through the lens of a chess match in which each phase of the relationship is examined with play-by-play commentary. Why was this an important book for you to write?
This was my first and, probably will be, my only, relationship book. The challenges were many. I had to restrain myself from judging the couple’s actions. Since “the game” happens on a subconscious level, I didn’t want their behaviors to be extreme. The book revels in making the everyday, seemingly insignificant things said and done to be monumental and epochal. Only they don’t know it. Hence, the use of the commentator, who may get a tad overwrought in the interpretation and importance of their actions. Also, I had to purge myself of caring who was the winner in “the game”. The commentator addresses this early on. Winning may be not be really winning. Winning a game may actually be detrimental, but the players will never see why.
How did your idea to use the chess metaphor evolve as you planned and wrote this book?
I started with the Chess scheme. It had been on my mind for many years. The chess/marriage idea seemed natural. “War” might be extreme. You could call it battles. The conflict and friction that I dwell on was probably influenced my reading the work of R. D. Laing in the 1970s. His book Sanity, Madness, and The Family had an impact on me.
What do you find is the most difficult aspect of writing about relationships?
The most difficult part was trying not to forget to include the many aspects and perspectives on their relationship. Each other, the kids, the friends, parents, the in-laws, not mention the other innumerable sources of conflict. Ultimately, it took a long time to write the book because of the nature of the narrative. There were few opportunities to elaborate on the details of their conflicts except for the times the commentator rhapsodized about certain episodes and the games that were summarized and did not advance move by move.
What is one thing you hope readers take away from MATE?
Because MATE took a long time to write, causing me to think too much about different ways to engage the reader. Two examples: One, leave some blank pages after a chapter and have the reader rewrite how he or she would have the chapter on the children or the living arrangements would go. Second, at the end of the novel, leave eight to ten pages and have the readers write the “game” of their own marriage – it would be interesting to compare the woman’s to the man’s version.
Author Links: GoodReads | Website | Facebook | Amazon
MATE: a novel in twenty games
MATE: a novel in twenty games, by Robert Castle, is unlike any book I’ve read. It dissects a marriage by mapping each moment of intimacy, conflict, and compromise onto the framework of a chess match. The story of Pillsbury and Larkin unfolds over twenty “games,” each representing phases of their relationship like courtship, childbirth, relocation, and eventual separation. Every chapter reads like a brutal play-by-play commentary of a high-stakes match where each line of dialogue is a calculated move. The result is raw, honest, and often uncomfortably accurate in its portrayal of the delicate, ongoing war that can exist beneath the surface of domestic life.
Castle’s writing is sharp, biting, and at times hilariously cruel. His chess metaphor isn’t just a clever gimmick; it’s an ingenious device that illuminates the absurdity and tragedy of two people trying (and failing) to love each other properly. The characters aren’t likable in a traditional sense. In fact, they’re often selfish, petty, or clueless. But that’s the point. Marriage, as Castle paints it, is not about romance or even companionship; it’s about control, defense, sacrifice, and sometimes resignation. It was refreshing, even when it hurt to read.
I do feel the relentless move-countermove commentary, while brilliant, could feel overwhelming to some readers. The structure, while unique, can become a bit too clever, making some of the emotional beats feel like intellectual puzzles rather than lived moments. Still, I can’t deny that Castle has created something utterly original. He lets the characters tear each other apart, and we’re left to pick through the wreckage.
MATE is not a book for romantics. But if you’ve ever been in a long relationship, especially one that has frayed over time, Castle’s work will speak to you. It’s for readers who want their fiction uncomfortable, honest, and unflinching. It would resonate with couples therapists, chess fans, failed lovers, and those quietly questioning their own relationships. It’s both cynical and relatable, and it left me thinking about it long after I put it down.
Pages: 176 | ISBN : 978-1963908497
LITERARY TITAN 