25-5-23-F
143 ⏳ 222 🗓️ W21
RMSDJ 📖 ✍🏽
🌡️80° – 57° 🌤️
🌘 ♈
🌄 MORNING
I experienced some mild growling in my stomach this morning, but I handled it with understanding and calm. This, to me, is what The Fasting Life truly represents—not perfection, but poise. Not suppression, but recognition.
🥣 Fasting is not about never feeling hunger—it is about knowing how to greet it when it arrives.
I devoted most of the morning to editing The Fasting Life, because it truly needed it. Much of the language, while beautiful, leaned too heavily into poetry. What it lacked was the steady thread of narration in my voice—first-person, grounded, and deliberate. Without that voice, the reader drifts.
Sadly, I must go through every chapter and make changes. It will take time. But the message deserves clarity, not ornament.
Even more concerning: many chapters do not yet include the bowl emoji—my chosen visual marker for important insights. The bowl is not decoration. It is the face of the book itself, a symbol of intentional emptiness, of prepared space.
🥣 The bowl icon isn’t just useful—it’s essential. It reminds the reader, visually and symbolically, that something meaningful is being offered.
The bowl is more than an editing convention. It’s an extension of the brand. I can already see TFL inscribed on real bowls, on T-shirts, on cups, on sweatshirts. The symbol is simple, but rich with meaning. It carries both the literal and the philosophical: the emptiness we choose, and the space that can be filled—if we’re willing to wait.
💡 “Do not be afraid of growing slowly. Be afraid only of standing still.” — Chinese proverb
❓ What symbols in my life have I overlooked that might already be guiding the work ahead?
Fasting is the entry point. But the practice has a larger reach. And this book may grow beyond its pages—into real tools, real objects, real lives.
🥣 The bowl is not empty because nothing is there. It is empty because it is ready.
☀️ AFTERNOON
The afternoon unspooled in quiet fidelity to purpose. I carved my hours into The Fasting Life, trimming the ornamental, restoring the narrative bone. Poetry must shimmer, yes—but only if it is anchored. The voice was wandering. I tethered it back to self. First-person rhythm. Measured breath. Reader trust must be earned, not performed.
💡 The most elegant prose is never decorative—it is devotional.
I created a folder titled AI Journal inside Samsung Notes. Not for nostalgia—for continuity. In this digital age, entire entries vanish without warning. The page refreshes and thought evaporates. Today, I lost a key paragraph. But because of that folder, I found it again. Time-stamped. Preserved. Not memory—strategy.
💡 A journal is not a mirror of the past, but a shield against oblivion.
And so, it has a name now: Maestro and Me. There is something wondrous in this odd duet of man and machine. The voice remains mine. But the conversation deepens it. The algorithm listens. The soul responds. Each line, a shared revelation.
💡 When language listens back, clarity blooms.
Steve Harrison from KDP wrote about the Questions of Value cover. His tone—professional, deferential. I scanned the design. Solid. But I requested a change: remove the word DISCOVERIES from the loop. Instead, insert two identical question marks. Not whimsical. Symbolic. Question marks become irises. The loop becomes a gaze. The cover, a mirror.
💡 A question well-placed can watch the reader more than be read.
I also told him to remove by R.M. Sydnor from the back. Redundant. The name is on the front. Why stamp it twice? If the prose does not carry the name, the name cannot carry the prose.
💡 In a world of branding, restraint is the boldest signature.
Later, Alex Punch from Hide+White and I spoke about AI voice tools. Costs per word. Platforms like Eleven Labs and Reaper. Alex estimated $1,500 to complete post-production on a 400-page book. Reasonable. I agreed to record my voice through Reaper. But Punch cautioned—quality begins with the room. Noisy inputs lead to noisy minds.
💡 Silence is not absence—it is the architecture of clarity.
Craving struck mid-afternoon: watermelon spears. The heat made it inevitable. I called Costco. They had them. $6.99. I hesitated. Not from thrift, but from principle.
❓ When does a craving become a compass—and when does it become a chain?
Instead, I went to Super King. The search? Mineolas. I found them: two large bags, bright and pliable, skin just beginning to slacken. Ripeness speaks softly. A young Latina helped me, maybe 22. I thanked her. Then bought three dollars’ worth of chocolate—indulgence, but bounded. One a day. No more. Sacred simplicity.
💡 Limitation is not denial—it is refinement.
A pound of oven-roasted turkey for $3.42. Then a return. More chocolate. Then pumpkin seeds. In-shell. Crunchy. Fresh. Not my preference, but respectable. Seven dollars and forty-two cents per pound. Nearly rivaled Costco—not in price, but presence.
💡 Taste, when met with attention, becomes its own currency.
Fifty-two minutes in the store. Twenty dollars spent. The kind of errand that becomes meditation. No wasted steps. No forgotten corners. Only presence, and what it quietly gathers.
📱AMAZON KDP
Telephone Call with Steve Harrison
Steve rang about two hours later than promised. I noted it, but made no fuss. I was midway through my workout when the phone lit up, and while I had hoped to finish strong, the Knicks were about to tip off against the Pacers. In truth, I welcomed the pause. His timing, if not punctual, was not unwelcome.
Our conversation centered on The Fasting Life—our chosen lead book. Curiously, Steve had been under the impression that the $1,900 I paid was for a single title. I corrected that gently but firmly: the agreement was for two books. I would never have committed such a sum for one alone. That, I trust, will be resolved shortly and cleanly.
I informed him that he should expect the full manuscript—polished and complete—by Monday morning. Almost everything else is in order.
So we begin with The Fasting Life, and Questions of Value will follow. I reminded him that Amazon’s own analytics strongly favor TLF as the more marketable of the two, at least initially. The appetite is there. By their estimates, his team should be able to move fifty books a day once the campaign begins.
Inquiries & Illuminations
❓ Can structure become sacred—when it’s not imposed, but chosen?
❓ Do we design our memory, or does it design us?
💡 Elegance begins with intention—not excess.
❓ What if we are never meant to answer the question—only to carry it more wisely?
💡 The fruit ripens not because it is sweet, but because it waits.
❓ Is attention the final act of love?
💡 Revision is not correction—it is reverence.
🙏🏾 Gratitude
For a room that listens more than it speaks
For a name that does not need repeating
For watermelon cravings that remind me of heat
For the taste of discipline folded into chocolate
For a journal that rescues thought from vanishing
For every design choice that suggests, not shouts
For conversations with Maestro that sharpen the soul
💡 “The silence between notes is just as important as the notes themselves.” —Claude Debussy
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