Messy, Moody, and Real

When I was 15, I vanished from the world for half a semester.

No, not in some fantastical Chronicles of Narnia way—though I would’ve preferred that. I was homebound, too sick to go to school. My “classroom” consisted of crackly phone calls with teachers, and my homework was mailed back and forth in fat manila envelopes. (This was before Zoom, before Google Docs—back when connection had to travel slowly, on paper.)

Isolation settled heavy. My only glimpse of classmates came in those brief, awkward exchanges when someone dropped off assignments at my front door. While they joked in hallways and carved their teenage identities, I was alone in a quiet house, pounding so furiously on my old typewriter that I gave myself carpal tunnel in both arms. Writing became my rebellion, my escape, and eventually—my lifeline.

But here’s what I remember most about that season: the hunger for stories. Not the shiny ones about perfect teens who always said the right thing, but the raw, messy, complicated ones. Characters who struggled with identity, illness, invisibility. Characters who didn’t “overcome” in neat arcs but learned to live inside the tension of being both fragile and fierce.

Back then, I didn’t find many. So now, as an adult, I write them.

Why Messy Characters Matter

Teenagers live at the edge of contradictions. They’re expected to be old enough to carry responsibilities, but young enough to stay cheerful. To be grateful, but also ambitious. To filter their lives into highlight reels on TikTok, while quietly carrying invisible battles offline.

When YA fiction flattens those contradictions into clichés—the chosen one, the quirky best friend, the stoic love interest—it betrays the real lives teens are navigating.

That’s why I believe we need messy, moody, flawed protagonists more than ever. Characters who faint in public, lash out at siblings, scroll endlessly to avoid feelings, or burn the Thanksgiving pie they wanted so badly to get right. Not because it makes for “drama,” but because it mirrors truth. And truth is what gives teens permission to breathe.

Enter Filter.

My latest short story, Filter: A YA Short Story About Illness, Identity, and Going Viral, comes from that conviction.

The protagonist, Lily, looks perfect on TikTok—sarcastic voiceovers, lip-syncs, dance trends from her bedroom. But behind the ring light, her kidneys are failing, and so is her ability to keep up the performance.

When a fainting episode at school goes viral, Lily has two choices: keep pretending or show her followers the unfiltered truth of being seventeen, chronically ill, and terrified of what comes next.

Filter isn’t about miraculous recovery or inspirational speeches. It’s about what happens when the mask cracks, when the sibling who usually fades into the background (Cam) suddenly sees more than he wants to, and when humor becomes both a shield and a bridge.

It’s messy. It’s raw. And I believe that’s exactly why it resonates.

The Bigger Picture: Unfiltered Lives

Filter is just the beginning of my Unfiltered Lives series, a collection of YA and NA short reads centering characters with chronic illness, identity struggles, and messy relationships.

Each story shines a light on someone who often goes unseen:

A teen baking pies on dialysis while relatives whisper about her future (Grateful for the Mess).

A trans music teacher hiding his treatment until a viral duet forces him into honesty (In-Between Beats).

An elderly immigrant who speaks through embroidery, stitching love into cloth for fellow patients (Needlepoint Dreams).

These aren’t “after-school specials.” They’re short, powerful windows into lives that don’t get filters.

And they’re short on purpose. Because in a world of scroll-fast attention spans, sometimes less really is more. A 48-page story you can read on a coffee break can still punch you in the gut and leave you thinking long after.

Why I Write Like This

I go back to that 15-year-old version of myself—isolated, craving connection, desperate for characters who looked like the inside of my own messy heart.

I want today’s teens to have what I didn’t: stories that tell them they don’t have to perform perfection, that their complicated feelings are valid, that even in illness or invisibility, they are seen.

Because maybe the bravest thing a teen can do isn’t to overcome—but to keep showing up, unfiltered, in the life they already have.

A Closing Thread

In one of my stories, Mrs. Lin, a dialysis patient, stitches embroidery gifts for staff and fellow patients. When asked why she never keeps them, she answers in halting English:

“Gifts… stitch love. Love… stay.”

That line stays with me. Because it’s not just true of embroidery—it’s true of stories.

Every book I write in the Unfiltered Lives series is my stitched gift. And my hope is that the love, the truth, and the messy humanity inside them stay with whoever needs them most.

✨ Filter: A YA Short Story About Illness, Identity, and Going Viral is available now on Kindle.

Check out the whole Unfiltered Lives series—because life isn’t perfect, and fiction shouldn’t be either.