Sleepy Sunday 

Actually, I got up earlier today than I did yesterday, but I didn’t focus much through the day. Watched my husband game, talked to our daughter, read a bit of a novella …

Remembered a weird thing about my reading habits. Sometimes, in a lovely, lushly described work if I care for the characters, I stop reading early, especially if I can see how very much the characters have to lose. I don’t want to be torn apart inside as they go through hell. So I tend more toward light, escapist reading than heart-wrenching, award-quality reading. More true for longer fiction than short. (This is problematic for award nominations and voting, yes.)

Anyway, eventually eked out 656 words.

And wow, it’s late! I must to bed.

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