Dink Rosser is eighteen and living away from home for the first time.

Until now, life has been small, familiar, and mostly safe. At university, everything is louder, faster, and less forgiving. The city doesn't explain itself. People don't either. Dink arrives carrying the habits of childhood into a place that expects him to be grown.

So he starts a diary.

What begins as a way to document hall life and everyday absurdities slowly becomes something else. As weeks pass, the jokes sharpen, the gaps between entries widen, and the tone darkens. The safety of home feels further away. The certainty he once had starts to slip. Things happen that don't fit the version of the world Dink has always believed in.

This is not a story about instant maturity or neat lessons. It's about the moment rose-tinted glasses stop working. About realising that optimism alone can't protect you. About learning, too early, that some things can't be fixed by not looking too closely.

Funny, unsettling, and emotionally honest, Dink's Diary captures the fragile space between childhood and adulthood, where independence arrives before readiness, and the world proves sharper than expected.

For readers navigating the shift from safety to self-reliance, this is a coming-of-age story about losing innocence without losing yourself.