About the book
PJ Weber, an originally Dutch writer, can’t make a living from writing alone in New York City. To make ends meet, he does administrative tasks for a company. During the night hours he sends long letters to his American agent from the office where he works. One evening, the secluded building is broken into.
While the fear of being discovered has him in a stranglehold and the intruders keep coming closer, Weber begins his testament, a confession perhaps. He writes about his marriage and the death of his parents, authorship, his son in the Netherlands, sexual abuse and the refuge of language. “I live where I write. Home is where my cursor blinks.”