Venus, My Love… 2003 (out-of print)

This is Fatih Erdoğan’s only novel for above age 14.



Aylin leaves his boyfriend Serkan saying that she wants to “become herself.”

His heart broken, Serkan now has a big challenge… Understanding what “being oneself ” really means. He cannot accept it and asks: 

“Why is it not possible to be yourself when we keep our relationship going?”


Aylin has no easy answer to this. They go to separate ways, have new relationships, learn and understand more about themselves, about others, about life, on the way to become themselves… 

I Love Her, 1995


“I fell in love with a 3 year old girl when I was 4!” Whether you call it love or not, it is a warm feeling that keeps living in one’s memory for many years. This book includes stories of these ‘first loves’.





We are waiting in the teachers’ room. Me and the class president. It was the the teacher who wanted to see us there after class. This was the last period before the end of the year. It was the end of the fifth grade.

It was our last day in this school. Our last day in our primary school. The last day with our teacher.

The last day with friends. The last day with… Her…

I always wanted to say something to her or hear something from her.

We met in front of the canteen in the last break. She moved her hair aside from her face and smiled. How would I manage not to forget this smile forever? I want to say something to her, with no idea about what it is. I want to hear something from her, I don’t know what. She has no clue about what’s in my mind; she runs home as soon as the bell rings.

Her house is on the hill behind our school. My heart is full of sorrow thinking that I will not see her again. But our teacher says that we will go to her house! He wants us to support him while he talks with her mother. He wants to persuade her mother to send her daughter to secondary school, which in the class today, she had said she would not go. She was a good student. Our teacher was thinking that she must definitely continue her education.

We climbed the hill and entered the garden. A lady with a smiling face appeared at the door. She was her mother. She knew about our visit. She said: “We won’t be able to send her to secondary school. Without a father…”

Her father had died years ago.

Our teacher said: “But she is a very good student…” and looked at us, asking for help. What could we say? Would anything we say change anything?         I move forward to say something, hoping that it would help. No words come out. I look around. The ground…

Tomato seedlings… Peppers… A hoe… A worn out slipper…

Everyone waits to hear what I am going to say, but I can’t find those magic words to say. Are there no magic words? My eyes begin to fill with tears, but I don’t let them out.

After a long silence, a sob is heard. The window above our heads is shut. Her mother nods gently. Our teacher looks at us. We have to go. There’s nothing to do.


As we walk back down the hill, her sobs can be heard more easily…