Anna Ceguerra

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Melted deliciousness #abstractart

sustainably remains my guiding principle.

Thank you for being here. It means more than I can say.

💬 What would you love to see more of in my Gentle Sci-Fi universe?

What’s Next

As Broad Shorts settles into the world, I’m already sketching new stories—still gentle, still curious, still rooted in connection.

I’m excited for what’s coming next, whether it’s a new novella, more short stories, or a fresh world to explore. Creating slowly, meaningfully, and

Null pointer exception #abstractart

writing doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be honest about where you are right now.

💬 What’s something you’ve improved at over the years—creatively or personally?

Growth as a Writer

Writing Broad Shorts over four years means each story captures who I was at the time—my questions, fears, experiments, and milestones.

You can see the shifts: tone changes, stylistic evolution, bolder choices. I’m proud of that growth, and of letting readers witness it.

Your

possibility.

The door doesn’t always shut. Sometimes it just rests ajar.

💬 Do you prefer stories with neat closure or gentle ambiguity?

Endings Without Finality

Many stories in this collection end with a thread left loose—not unresolved, but breathing. I believe endings don’t need to be absolute to be satisfying.

Life rarely hands us tidy conclusions, so I write endings that echo real emotional rhythms: closure mixed with

I used to think endings existed to explain everything neatly. Now I see them as acts of emphasis. An ending doesn’t answer every question — it tells the reader what to carry forward. That decision shapes how the entire story is remembered. Once I understood that, endings stopped feeling technical

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and speculative in the softest of ways, Broad Shorts explores turning points that are strangely familiar. Each story experiments with endings—where futures remain hopeful, drama stays human, and wonder lingers long after the final page.

, a dingo disappears into the Australian outback, leaving behind a trail of questions. A time-traveling consultant sabotages his client’s love life—thirty years earlier. And in One Last Adventure, two young friends stand at the edge of goodbye, daring to imagine what comes next.

Quirky, heartfelt,

COVER REVEAL

I am pleased to announce that pre-orders are now available for Broad Shorts!

Broad Shorts: Thirteen ‘Gentle’ Sci-Fi Short Stories
Suitable for ages 13+, Approx. 90 pages
Tentative launch date: 31 March 2026

A gentle introduction to sci-fi—speculative but with heart.

In What Was Lost

possibility.

The door doesn’t always shut. Sometimes it just rests ajar.

💬 Do you prefer stories with neat closure or gentle ambiguity?

Endings Without Finality

Many stories in this collection end with a thread left loose—not unresolved, but breathing. I believe endings don’t need to be absolute to be satisfying.

Life rarely hands us tidy conclusions, so I write endings that echo real emotional rhythms: closure mixed with

I used to feel defensive about my preferences, as if avoiding certain themes meant I wasn’t serious enough. Over time, I realised it was simply about attention. Stories take emotional energy, whether we notice it or not. Being selective isn’t fragility. It’s awareness. I now choose stories based on

For a long time, I thought I didn’t have whatever quality people mean when they talk about finishing work. Drafts stalled, projects lingered, and I blamed myself. What I eventually saw was that I was confusing pressure with productivity. When I softened the process — smaller sessions, lower

the kind of storytelling I want more of in the world.

💬 Do you prefer twists that astonish you or ones that quietly click into place?

Quiet Twists

I love a twist that lands like a soft exhale rather than a shockwave.
In Broad Shorts, twists are invitations—moments that reframe a character, not punish them. Surprising, but never cruel.

For me, a good twist is one that makes the reader smile gently and think, “Of course.”
That’s

The Power of Community

Writing may look solitary, but Broad Shorts is full of fingerprints: editors, writing groups, mentors, friends, and readers.

Community shaped these stories—through feedback, encouragement, laughter, accountability, and the occasional nudge when I almost gave up.

I’m gratefu

changed how I choose books and how I value reading as a form of rest, not avoidance.

Reading isn’t always about leaving life behind. Sometimes it’s about slowing the noise enough to stay present. I’ve noticed that certain stories don’t energise or distract me — they steady me. They lower the volume without demanding attention. Gentle stories do that best for me. Realising this

Gentle Courage

Courage doesn’t always roar. In stories like No Longer Brave and TherA, characters find strength in small, surprising ways—through humour, haircut magic, or tender reconnection.

I love exploring vulnerability because it’s the most human sci-fi element of all. Futures feel more

I used to think tension needed volume to matter. Big events. Big spectacle. But the stories that stay with me hinge on smaller choices: whether to stay, leave, speak, or remain silent. Quiet stories don’t remove stakes — they relocate them. The pressure moves inward, where consequences are slower

Come and see major artworks from HSC 2025. I made it in one of them by Isabel!!

LYOX gallery on Lyons Rd next to Oxford Hotel. Parking near the corner of Formosa St and Bowman St Drummoyne.

Shifting Fortunes

A recurring theme in my stories is the sudden shift—the moment life tilts.
In Storm, What Was Lost, and Sebastian’s Sabotage, characters lose something, find something, or stumble into unexpected change.

I’m fascinated by how quickly circumstances can turn, and how gently people

my language. Once I learned to separate genre from tone, I realised there were other kinds of futures being written. Gentle Sci-Fi gave me a way back.

I didn’t stop reading sci-fi because I disliked imagination or big ideas. I stopped because the versions I kept finding were relentlessly grim. Constant danger. Endless collapse. Over time, I associated the entire genre with that tone and quietly walked away. What changed wasn’t my curiosity, but

that’s still forward movement.

If you’re moving through a life change, big or small, creativity can become either anchor or shelter. Both are valid.

💬 Has a life season ever changed how you create?