The Seven Deadly Inks: a Chromatic Descent Into Madness Great Fountain

This is not a book about inks. Not really. It’s a book about what they do to us.One moment, you’re scribbling a to-do list on a Post-it. The next, you’re standing in front of a shimmering pool of Emerald of Chivor, whispering to it like it’s alive. You tell yourself it’s just color. Just pigment. Just water, dye, and a little chemistry. But you know better. You feel it in your bones every time the nib glides over the page and something stirs—a memory, a sin, a desire you didn’t know had a name.This book began with a spill. Not a dramatic one. No lightning, no ancient texts. Just a bottle tipped slightly too far, a blot where there shouldn’t have been one, and a whisper from deep within the pen: write. And I did. Not because I wanted to. Because I couldn’t not.Each chapter explores one of the Seven Deadly Inks, those dangerous little devils that disguise themselves as stationery but burrow into the psyche. Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Pride. Each with its own hue, sheen, scent of madness. Each with a story to tell—and take from you.You don’t need to believe in curses or muses or alchemical pigments to read this book. But I’ll warn you: once you begin, you may start to see inks differently. You may start to see yourself differently. You may even find yourself reaching for a pen you swore you’d never use again. That’s how it starts.So go on. Uncap your judgment. Dip into danger. And whatever you do—don’t let the ink run dry.