The Self Taught Programmer Novels & Stories

"And it's much for deeper and complex than it looks, it's supposed to fascinate you on yourself and not because you're under a compulsion to know about it.. just for the sake of it. I don't like people like that." "Alright, I get it. But isn't it more on the other side? People need a start, you can't just expect someone to start liking something on their own if they don't have a proper introduction to it. There's so much to be influenced of in this world so what's wrong in it after all?" He said, almost like he was speaking some sense into her and it did make sense. She hadn't ever talked to anyone about it for her to get an insight like that. "You get it, right?"

So I'd trained with the best and picked up some of my own tricks along the way. Now these days I'm better than my teacher, but not only that, since I'd mastered the art of hacking, I'd learned how to safeguard myself against the same. It'd take them years to crack my codes and by then, I would've changed them once more, so they'd just have to start all over again. I'm sure it was a great source of frustration for them. Dumb fucks.

I take a sip of my iced tea and finally swallow what’s left in my mouth. Hunter is super focused, staring at me, not even eating his pizza anymore. “Well…” I breathe out, my hands cupping the cold iced tea. “I didn’t exactly commit a crime, Hunter. I was just… stupid.” I take a deep breath and just let it all out. “I was learning how to code an app. I’d actually gotten to a level where I could build a good one. “But one day, I got a text from someone named Gabriel. “He was inviting me to his private coaching program where he tutors newbie app developers about the industry.

"You're a freelance cybersecurity consultant who specializes in penetration testing and vulnerability assessment. You've worked with several mid-sized companies, always as an independent contractor." "And the references?" "All legitimate contacts who will vouch for your work if called. Your portfolio speaks for itself anyway." Berry closed the laptop and leaned back in her chair. "What if they ask about my education? I can't remember going to college." "You're self-taught. Some of the best hackers in the world never set foot in a classroom. Your practical knowledge is what matters." "I just want to do good work and prove myself. This feels like such an important opportunity."

Adrian Hale had always believed that predictability was a kind of peace. A lecture hall at eight in the morning, the familiar echo of shoes on polished floors, students half-asleep and half-engaged—these were the patterns that made his life quiet, clean, and manageable. No surprises. No disturbances. Nothing that required him to feel more than he intended. And then she enrolled.

And being needed by him was the closest thing to love I'd ever gotten. My fingers flew over the keys, muscle memory taking over. I'd been coding since I was thirteen, teaching myself in the public library after school because my parents certainly weren't going to pay for classes. Not for me. Vivian got piano lessons and tennis coaches. I got library cards and hand-me-down laptops. But I'd made something of myself anyway. I'd gotten good, better than good. Good enough that Jaxon's failing company had suddenly become the hottest tech startup in the city, all because of code I wrote in secret while he slept.

But of course, the man didn’t really turn her down but rather surprisingly, the man instantly agreed to help her in creating a tight personalized security for her company and also for other purposes and that he will also teach her a lesson or two about programming and since she is a fast learner she was able to easily grasp everything. However, of course her skills are still far away from the skills of the man and she knows to herself that there is no way in hell that she will be able to balance her skills with his however even if that is the case, she was still able to program her own security which she has here on her house and surprisingly the man himself wasn’t able to crack. But at the

After being abroad for five years for work, I followed the address given by my boyfriend, Gavin Hayes, and arrived at what was supposed to be our future home. The door swung open, and a young woman stood there holding a child in her arms. “Who are you looking for?” Before I could even gather myself from the shock, she spoke again. “A colleague of my husband Gavin, are you? “Did he trouble you with dropping off food for me? “I’ve told him countless times. It’s my second pregnancy—he really needs to stop getting so worked up over it.” She stepped back, then invited me inside. “Why don’t you come in and sit for a bit?” Watching her beam with joy, all I could think of was Gavin’s promise to take

The year I was at my most starry-eyed, I gave up my chance to study overseas. Over my parents' furious objections I married my boyfriend and took in the abandoned baby he'd picked up off the side of the road. From that day on I poured everything I had into that household and into raising that child. Thirty years of it. And just when our son was grown and settled and I thought I might finally get to breathe, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The treatment cost a fortune. I was about to reassure my husband and my son that I had the money. Instead, they got angry. "What do you mean, your money? That's this family's money. This disease is a bottomless pit. You could throw everything

“How did you build the first company?” “Desperation.” The word comes out sharp. “Not inspiration. Not vision. Just desperation. I learned coding from free online courses. I built an app in a basement and sold it for enough to start again. Then again. Then Daniel found me. Or I found him. The difference is unclear.” “What did he offer?” “Patience.” The word tastes bitter now. “He was older. Established. He said I rushed and made mistakes. He said he could teach me, protect me, and guide me.” I look at Adrian. “Sound familiar?”