Java Head

In a sun‑kissed New England house, eleven‑year‑old Laurel Ammidon wakes on the cusp of a new season, her mind shifting from the whimsical conversations she once held with the many chairs that fill her family’s rooms to a more pragmatic view of the world. The richly described furniture—each with its own personality—serves as a gentle map of her childhood, reflecting both the stability of home and the imagination that has sustained her. As the morning light streams through the windows, Laurel’s senses awaken to lilacs, dew‑wet grass, and the quiet rhythms of her grandfather’s garden, grounding her in a place that feels both familiar and expansive.

The story follows Laurel as she steps beyond the safety of childhood fantasies, navigating the expectations of her sisters and the subtle currents of family life. Through her observations of everyday objects and fleeting moments, the narrative captures the bittersweet transition from innocent wonder to a more measured, yet still hopeful, sense of self. The novel offers a tender portrait of growing up amid the comforts and constraints of a well‑ordered household.