Writing a story very slowly—a page a day if that. As always it has potential, but during the first draft, I’m never sure if it will be scraped or win the Pulitzer prize. Probably something in-between.
I’ve been trying for half an hour to listen to a YouTube ambient music track called Asian Dreams. Every time I tell Google Home to play Asian Dreams, Google Home says “Sure, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift coming up.” This has happened 15 times. I think I have some kind of an accent because my father was Welsh and my mother was from the Bronx which throws the thing off. It’s not an obvious accent, no one’s ever commented on it, but I guess I’m not speaking standard mid-western or something. I once went to a theatrical voice trainer during my acting days for a free introductory appointment and she said I slurred my S’s a little, so maybe that’s why.
I finished The Last Days of California. It was really good, although it didn’t have the super deep last sentence that many books contain. SPOILER ALERT: It leaves the heroine looking at herself in a clean spoon which seems neither here nor there, but I loved the rest of the novel, so this is a pretty minor complaint (if it is a complaint.)