L.M. Rapp's Blog, page 2

Cacao — Une fantaisie née d’un jeu d’écriture

Quand le hasard devient récit Les contraintes, loin de brider l’imagination, la stimulent. Dans l’atelier d’écriture que j’anime, les...

Killer’s Scent: From a Patch of Grass to a Novel

Watching Miraï, our dog, sniffing a tuft of weeds with meticulous focus, I felt the urge to understand her better.

Une question de flair : écrire depuis le nez

En voyant Miraï, notre chienne, renifler avec une concentration méticuleuse, j’ai eu envie de mieux la comprendre.

Solennoyance: A Bittersweet Tale for the Lost Cinephile

I saw the beginning, the end, and skipped the middle.

Solennui : fiction douce-amère pour cinéphile désorientée

Un premier rendez-vous avec Tarkovsky

What If True Heroines Were Tired, Flawed, and Quietly Furious?

We often hear that literature needs strong female characters, as if a heroine’s role were to embody a model, defy norms, right wrongs, and shine with brilliance. But there is another kind of strength — quieter, rougher — the strength of women who remain standing despite their failures, who don’t try to seduce or persuade, who move forward in a mix of smoldering anger, fatigue, and misplaced tenderness.

"She's always hungry" By Eliza Clarke

She’s Always Hungry by Eliza Clark is a collection of eleven short stories that, through the lens of “hunger,” masterfully blend body horror, psychological drama, and social satire. The tales shift effortlessly between raw realism, chilling science fiction, and grotesque folklore, all delivered in Clark’s razor-sharp prose that fuses repulsion with fascination.

Why I Eat (Partly) Vegan: Between Compassion, Digestion, and Marital Survival

There was a time when I would bite into a rare steak without a second thought, when the aroma of roasted duck breast was enough to send...

Of Flesh, Tears… and Feathers: my inspiration for a psychological thriller book

People sometimes ask me— with a hint of suspicion— where my ideas come from. They emerge from experiences, lived or not, twisted and...

Of Flesh, Tears… and Feathers

People sometimes ask me— with a hint of suspicion— where my ideas come from. They emerge from experiences, lived or not, twisted and...