NEW BOOK: HOW TO BEHAVE IN PUBLIC
As someone who once wrote an entire haiku review about a parking fine, I feel qualified to say: this book understands public embarrassment as a literary form.
Filed under: etiquette, pigeons, and the fine art of public humiliation.
In a publishing climate where most novels mistake “quirky” for “wearing a hat indoors,” JTV delivers a work that is genuinely strange in the most necessary way. Felix Østergaard, etiquette columnist and reluctant cultural artefact, stumbles into viral fame after a pigeon-related incident in a public square. What follows is a slow-burn gay romance camouflaged as a handbook for civic decorum — or perhaps the other way around.
“As someone who once wrote an entire haiku review about a parking fine, I feel qualified to say: this book understands public embarrassment as a literary form.”
THE BOOK
How to Behave in Public is not about behaving — it is about surviving the watching. Between influencer culture, apologetic press statements, and the slow collapse of interpersonal grace, Felix navigates a landscape where every step could become content. The novel’s rhythm alternates between brittle observational comedy and passages that read like overheard monologues on a delayed train.
At its core, this is a romance — but one wrapped in layers of ironic distance, social critique, and expertly timed slapstick. The love story emerges not as a crescendo, but as a kind of long, awkward eye contact across the room.
EARLY PRAISE
“A novel for anyone who has ever tripped in public and then pretended to check their phone.” – Anonymous commuter
“Every page is a dare: will you laugh first, or will you recognise yourself?” – Internal Affairs leak, unverified
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JTV writes novels, runs RABAGAS Magazine, and maintains an ongoing argument with modern etiquette. His work blends satire, romance, and a quiet refusal to make eye contact with the cultural mainstream. In his spare time, he tests the tensile limits of the Pornstar Martini as a literary device.
READ AN EXCERPT
“The pigeon was already watching me — not in the casual, indifferent way pigeons do, but with the intent focus of someone who knew I was about to make a fool of myself. Which, of course, I did. The winged jury leaned closer.”
This review was peer-reviewed by my cat, who maintains that the book would be improved by more scenes involving sunbeams.
