Being Hinksch

I have always been a perfectionist. If you are one, you know how much a pain that can be. And in my case, I've always been a perfectionist towards myself. I'm never satisfied with what I do, I always think that I can do better. But also, whenever I set out to do something, I want it to be the absolute best, no space for anything other than perfect. That becomes particularly difficult for things in which I am not proficient. But something in my life has been slowly teaching me to try and be less perfect, and allowing myself to naked things that are great, or even good. Surprisingly, that something is my writing. I just finished writing my second book, a novel this time. It's not a Pulitzer prize contender, and I'm ok with that. Mainly because I am neither a writer, nor I ever intend to be one. But also, English is not my native language. When you think about it, just the fact that a non-native, who has no formal training in writing, was able to write not one, but two boo...

Chapter one: Anywhere but Brighton It was a cold and sunny Monday morning in January, the second day of the year, when I first entered the place where I would work for the next six months: Brighton’s police station. Our graduation ceremony took place some twenty days prior, but the holidays made it feel like it was another lifetime altogether. As I walked through the door of the police station, I thought about our final day at the academy, and the moment we were receiving our posting letters sprang to my mind. Up until that point, we had been training for the previous six months to become private investigators, and it had not been easy on any of us. We somehow formed a strong bond, and we were all very excited to see where life would take us next, who would be there with us, what we would do. After six months of books, lectures, videos and tests, we all wanted to get out of the classroom and get into the action. I remember all those things going through my mind the day I opened my lett...

He came in while I was doing a shift, and I was immediately attracted to him. He was extremely cute - still is. He was also on shift, but for a different organisation. He smiled and I melted inside. Equally fast was my conviction that he would never, ever, be into me. It's almost like I could hear a voice whispering in my ears: Hello! Have you seen him and have you seen you? Wake up, he would never look at you. Don't set yourself up for failure. We started to chat, I was extra campy and extrovert, which is the weird way my mind deals with feeling intimidated. I should be clear that he was not intimidating, but I felt that way because of my own demons. Maybe making my personality big is a way of rising to the the other person's height, the same way we are told to look big if we ever meet a bear - a real, animal one. Even though he was also a bear Oh, and my self deprecating humour, who multiplies by ten in these kind of situations. Probably, and here again I'm going in...