Sleeping Seagull Books
The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk
-The Travails of an Unwanted Son-
The Days in the Life of Lindsay Wincherauk
-The Travails of an Unwanted Son-
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This is the gut-wrenching tale of a man whose identity was stripped away with the swipe of a pandemic’s cruel hand. At 60, he watched his life’s work crumble on day one of the global lockdown.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance.
Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate.
In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him.
Undeterred, this man embodies resilience; he pens fourteen novels, traces over twenty million footsteps, and digests the wisdom of three hundred books. Yet he battles the crushing realization of obsolescence creeping upon him—his age, a silent thief of relevance.
Despite his relentless efforts, he feels his voice fading into a void, unheard and ignored—drowning in a nightmare where he and his family teeter perilously close to a downfall as cold and unforgiving as the asphalt that threatens to claim their fate.
In a world enamoured with curating flawless façades on social media, his pleas for help are lost amid the noise. It echoes back to him as a refrain too often repeated, too easily dismissed. This man, whose pride is as impenetrable as steel, would never stoop to beg. For he knows the true cry for help doesn’t echo—it resonates, it penetrates, it demands to be heard. Yet, in the stark reality he faces, that cry seems but a whisper in the relentless storm of indifferent perfection swirling around him.
What's Inside
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Manuscript Complete = Written in 14 Days
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