Another Sunday comes and goes, and I’ve done nothing except running to the stores, making a batch of soy milk, rising three cups of dough with a yeast packet, read the first half of a book that complains about modern love but disguised as a love story, bought three audible books on sale, which I knew I would regret later. I always regret my purchase of books that are on sale, but being regretful never stops me from doing it again.
I wanted to write comments for a haunting horror story. I already did it on Saturday, but I wanted to add more comments since I felt I had more to say, more suggestions to give. In particular, I wanted to talk about what kind of structure and plot I want it to have, but I didn’t find the time to do it. Where did the time go? It just disappeared without a trace.
I am changing my steppe romance story the 8th time. The 8th time. Unbelievable. I imagined certain effect in my mind, but I couldn’t bring out the effect. The words and phrases had a mind of their own, not only not producing what I want them to produce, but also trying to drag the whole thing into an unexpected direction. I don’t know why this is happening.
I guess I am going to write book reviews. A long book review can be two or three posts. And the fact that I don’t know how to write a book review only makes me want to do it more. I did some book review on goodreads, but they were so bad that I was ashamed to continue. So I stopped after a year or so. However now I want to pick it up again. This will at least solve my problem of not knowing what to write for my WP posts.
Haoyan Do 
Very interesting.
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