An empty chair at a table. A letter nobody dares to open. An appointment missed by a few minutes. My stories often begin with small things like these. I linger over them, ask questions, and soon someone appears: a woman wondering whether to leave, a father searching for words, two friends with something still to say. Then I open a blank page. I want to understand what brought them there, what they keep to themselves and what might bring them closer. That is how I enter a novel: by making room for someone.
Letting my characters surprise me
When I write, I like to get to know the people who will inhabit my pages: the way they laugh, hold back tears or change the subject when a question comes too close. I think I know where a scene is going, then a character refuses the answer I had planned. I begin again. A conversation continues, a memory finds its place, a door opens a little. I enjoy these detours. They bring the unexpected moments that make me want to turn the page too.
Writing what connects us
I write about imperfect families, enduring friendships, hesitant love and truths kept quiet for too long. I like characters who make mistakes, find humour in grief and start again when they thought it was too late. In my novels, a meal, a lit window or a few rediscovered words can change everything. What I look for is that moment when we recognise a little of ourselves in someone else’s life.
And then there is you
A story changes when it meets a reader. You bring your own images, memories and way of hearing the silences. That meeting is why I opened this space and chose to offer my novels in EPUB and PDF. Take them on a train, return to them in the evening or read a few pages between busy days. I hope a character stays with you, a scene makes you smile or a sentence makes you want to call someone. If that happens, we will have shared much more than a book. Welcome. I’ll let you choose your first story.
« I hope that closing one of my books feels a little like saying goodbye to someone you know. »
My life between two chapters
My stories are rarely born at my desk. They find me on a riverbank, at a café table or along a forest path, in the rain as much as in the sun. Here are a few moments from my life, the ones that feed my novels.
At home, at my deskSometimes a line of dialogue makes me laugh before it even reaches the page.
In a Paris bookshopI never leave a bookshop without one more book than I came in with.
Along the SeineI walk to untangle a plot. Often it unravels before the next bridge.
At a café terraceA conversation at the next table, and suddenly I have a new character.
In the gardenReading in the sun is how I recharge.
Montmartre, in the rainParis rain has never kept me indoors. It even gives me ideas.
In the mountainsThe first snowflake of winter still makes me as happy as when I was ten.
On the Brittany coastA strong wind, a yellow raincoat and the ocean. Nothing better to clear my head.
In Provence, at the height of summerEyes closed among the lavender, I listen to the cicadas.
A stormy eveningAt night, when the rain pours down, I write my most secret scenes.
On a Paris rooftopCelebrating the last page of a novel at sunset has become a ritual.
At the market, one spring morningI taste everything. My characters love good food too.
In BiarritzBarefoot by the ocean, I laugh about everything and nothing.
In the forest of FontainebleauAutumn is my favourite season to start a new book.
