Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome sight, felt like an accusation on Amelia’s skin. The biography, propped open on her breakfast table, seemed to mock her with its glossy cover. The whole thing made her feel ill.

This stranger, whoever he was, had painted her life with broad strokes and inaccurate colors. He’d romanticized her failures and diminished her successes. He'd even fabricated aspects of her childhood. She felt the urge to throw the book across the room, but the thought of letting it off the hook was infuriating.

Amelia grabbed a pen. She would start a blog, a raw, unedited account of her life, a counter-narrative to the polished lie. She would reveal the real woman behind the book, the one with flaws and triumphs, joys and sorrows.