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Romances

Ops... Where's the image?Inocência - ou Uma Declaração Tardia

Written from 2001 to 2002, edited through all this time, and finally published in 2015, the same year it won the literary contest VI Prêmio Clube de Autores de Literatura Contemporânea, the story starts as a (late) declaration of love to the main character of the plot, Rafael, illustraded with some transcriptions of scenes ocurred during the period, in which Rafael, from his 14 to 15 years old, is kidnapped, thrown down from the fourth floor of a building, robbed, abused, in addition to face the typical dilemmas of his age, like his sexuality, virginity, friends, the girls and the boy with whom he had relationships then... (read more)
 
Ops... Where's the image? A Fonte

Written from 2005 to 2006 when I lived in the city of Curitiba. It paints a portrait of the rise of a fictional city's artistic scene (the same city where my previous romance, Inocência, is located). Soon, A Fonte will be published and available on site Clube de Autores

Short Stories

Where's the image Renaissance Café

A short story about a discussion unfortunately still so present in our routines.
Ops... Where's the image? Americanizado

Critiques and critiques to the critiques about diverse themes around what is commonly called "americanized".
Ops... Where's the image?Um Mundinho Maior

Short story about a boy pursuing some exclusive afection, part of the compilation Você Viu o Brasil?
Ops... Where's the image?O Massagista

Short story about a man pursuing answers to a mistery, part of the compilation Você Viu o Brasil?
Where's the imageTristessa & Clarissa

Short story about depressive twin sisters, fans of Morrissey.

Others

O Garoto Oblíquo
As If
Yellow Ville
O Céu de Curitiba
Amerizanizado
Superficial
Olhando de Dentro
Parto de Mim
Cartas à Flávia

Ah!

Deep down, I am so jealous of my characters.
But I have to publish them anyway.
They slide through years of my life, and we lived together intensely.
I have spent so many time with them that I feel I don't know anything so inwardly as I know them.
That's it, I guess.





"In old days books were written by men of letters and read by the public. Nowadays books are written by the public and read by nobody."
(Oscar Wilde)

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