Jonah Mick – Author.

I write from the place where perception shapes perspective and attention doesn’t stay in one channel. My work moves between cultures and cognitive styles, shaped by awareness of patterns that are often missed or misread. My writing is literary fiction, with mythic elements used when realism can’t hold the frame. It's concerned with what it feels like inside trauma, divergence, care, perception... and what it costs to keep seeing without turning away.

I’m based in central Florida. When I’m not writing, I’m running trails (or off of them), and clocking the stories people aren’t meaning to tell in out-of-the-way cafés.

Tea is a constant.

Through Glass Darkly

It’s one thing to discover your own reality. It’s another to live it in a world that insists you’re wrong, broken… and safer that way. Life in the Lowlands is precarious when you’re Tharmenaea. Perception bends reality, night holds equal weight to day, and the axis of good and bad tilts differently for those born attuned to deeper currents. They navigate a world that wasn’t built for them— one that punishes the very senses that shape their truth.

Meet this Fae-coded tribe as they fight to claim space in a society that would rather pretend they don’t exist:
Tory: barely verbal, carrying trauma like a blade she hasn’t yet learned to wield.
Beck: a Waterborne struggling to contain the ocean rising inside him.
Rat and Sindë: lore-keepers trying to help Nicholas piece together a shattered Earthborne heritage.
Amy: the kind Lowlander whose gilded life becomes a cage the moment she sides with the truth.

Through Glass Darkly is a mythic tale of perception, belonging, and survival in a world that prefers its magic, and its misfits, sanitized out of view. It’s darker than it first appears, more hopeful than it has any right to be, and perhaps uncomfortably familiar.

Cut Glass

Cut Glass follows Ala, a young woman whose heightened perception makes ordinary life feel unstable and demanding. Living and working on the margins of a dense, unforgiving city, she moves through relationships and daily survival with an awareness that others don’t seem to share, and that she doesn’t yet understand.

When Ala encounters a small, guarded community that treats perception as both risk and responsibility, she is forced to reckon with what it means to be seen without being consumed. As she forms fragile connections, particularly with Cat, a watchful glassworker shaped by his own history of restraint, the novel traces the ethical tension between intimacy and harm, clarity and self-erasure.

Moving through charged silences, hidden refuges, and moments of sudden recognition, Cut Glass is psychologically intimate literary fiction about perception as survival, care without possession, and the cost of remaining open in a world that rewards numbness.