Wall Street's consensus on US AI infrastructure has converged on a
single story: hyperscaler capex grows at 25–30% CAGR through 2028, US
power demand doubles by 2027, memory equities enter a supercycle that extends
through 2028. The data tables across the major sell-side desks are nearly
identical. The price targets cluster within tight ranges.
This book argues, on quantifiable grounds, that the consensus is six months
late.
Five convergent shocks are reshaping the AI infrastructure trade through
Q2 2026 → Q1 2027 :
1. **Token Commoditization.** DeepSeek V4 Pro inference is priced at $0.87 per
million output tokens. The US frontier sells the same intelligence at
$25–30. On May 22, 2026, DeepSeek announced the 75% discount becomes
*permanent*. A subsidy is, by definition, time-limited. A permanent price is a
margin.
2. **Chinese Hardware Reaches Cost Parity.** Huawei's Atlas 800 delivers
60–70% of NVIDIA H100 inference performance at 30% of system cost. The
production target is 600,000 Ascend 910C units in 2026.
3. **The US Grid Bottleneck.** The PJM 2026/2027 capacity auction cleared at
$329.17/MW-day — an 11.4× increase in two years. Approximately 50%
of planned US data center projects are delayed or cancelled. Interconnection
queues in the densest markets run 4–7 years.
4. **China's Parallel Energy Buildout.** Chinese nuclear capacity scales from
62 GW to a 110 GW target by 2030. Solar generation has 5× since 2018.
The asymmetry is not aggregate capacity — it is execution speed.
5. **The Hyperscaler Bond Wall.** $121 billion of long-dated IG debt was
issued in 2025 by Amazon, Alphabet, Microsoft, Meta, and Oracle — a
4.3× step-up from the prior decade's average. YTD 2026 tracks at
$230–240 billion. The duration of the debt does not match the duration
of the revenue stream financing it.
Beneath the five operating vectors sits the geopolitical chessboard: **Iran,
Greenland, Venezuela, and Cuba** — the four pressure points through
which the US administration is restricting Chinese supply and improving
US-aligned strategic position simultaneously. To our knowledge, this is the
first treatment of the AI infrastructure question that integrates the
four-front geopolitical layer into the framework.
Two hard-dated catalysts anchor the window:
- **November 10, 2026** — expiration of the US-China tariff truce
We expect a **25–40% drawdown in pure-play AI infrastructure equities**
between November 2026 and Q1 2027, with corresponding outperformance from
open-source AI architectures, edge inference platforms, critical mineral
miners outside China, and Chinese AI platforms with monetization paths.
This is a non-consensus framework, structured to be falsifiable. Every
catalyst is dated. Every risk is enumerated with subjective probability
estimates. The book closes with a real-time catalyst calendar the reader can
use as a checklist over the Q3 2026 to Q2 2027 window.
The framework attaches a 60-70% cumulative probability that at least one
documented risk materially invalidates the central thesis. We disclose this
explicitly because intellectual honesty requires it.
This is the inaugural volume of the CrossVol Thesis Series. The companion
title — *Beyond Gamma Exposure: The Five-Vector Framework for Volatility
Traders* — is available on Amazon Kindle, Apple Books, Google Play, and
Kobo.
— *CrossVol Research, with Djellal Djouad, contributor — May 2026*
this book is available also in spanish, japanese, german, portuguese,
like the other one
About the Author
CrossVol Research is a team of derivatives market veterans, on institutional
trading desks, from exotic options structuring to cross-asset volatility
arbitrage. We've sat on the other side of your trade. We've built the pricing
models. We've watched the flows that move markets before they move.
What we publish isn't theory repackaged for retail. It's the operating system
that institutional desks use daily : dealer gamma mechanics, the five-step
short-vol unwind that precedes every crash, the B-book architecture that turns
80% of retail FX traders into the product, the infrastructure repricing that
Wall Street research is six months lateon.
Every claim is sourced. Every framework is falsifiable. Every trade call
referenced in our books was publicly posted and time-stamped on X before the
move happened, with URLs you can verify yourself.
We don't sell signals. We don't run a chatroom. We write the books we wish
someone had handed us on day one, the ones that would have saved us years of
learning what the industry deliberately doesn't teach.
If you're done reading what everyone else is reading, start here.
This post contains material suitable only for readers 18+
How much are you willing to give up for fame?
Blurb
In The Talent’s Choice, where dreams are made and hearts are tested, one rising star is about to discover that fame isn’t the only thing worth fighting for.
Tristan Weber has always believed his future was waiting somewhere beyond Missouri. With New York City as his first step and Hollywood in his sights, he’s ready to give everything he has to make it. Success is closer than ever—and so is the life he’s always dreamed of.
But love was never part of the plan.
When Tristan meets Cory Reed, a guarded yet deeply sincere flight attendant who’s been waiting for someone worthy of his trust, everything begins to change. What starts as an unexpected connection quickly turns into something undeniable, something real. The kind of love neither of them saw coming… and neither of them can ignore.
As Tristan’s star begins to rise within The Talent’s Choice, the spotlight grows hotter, the stakes grow higher, and the pressure to succeed threatens to pull him away from the one person who feels like home.
Because in a world built on ambition, desire, and impossible choices…love may be the greatest risk of all.
Will Tristan chase the life he’s always wanted—or fight for the one he never knew he needed?
And when everything is on the line… Can love survive the cost of being chosen, or is there a moment when you simply decide you've had enough?
Excerpt
The car stopped in front of an enormous brick building that looked like an old factory, with large windows encircling all 6 floors. The driver had the trunk open, as we both emerged from the back seat. And with bags in hand, Tristen led us through the industrial looking lobby of his building, where a large service elevator waited for us. I didn’t even have time to turn around and Tristen was on me, pushing me back against the metal wall as the upper and lower doors closed to engage the lift.
His hands were inside my jacket, as his mouth was pressed hard against mine as our tongues competed for dominance. I pushed my hands around him, and into the waist of his pants, cupping his hot, hard, ass checks in both my hands. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, even though our pants. “Fuck me!” I said as our lips parted.
“My thoughts exactly.” Tristen said, after unbuckling my belt and both hands working hard on getting my pants open.
When the lift came to an abrupt stop our lips were still locked, and both of us were in a dilapidated state of undress. And by the time two doors parted, my jacket was hanging off me, and my shirt was completely unbuttoned. And as I tried to walk out of the elevator, Tristen grabbed hold of my jacket and before I knew it, he had thrown it on the foyer floor, then my shirt was ripped from my body and tossed over his shoulder. I turned to look at him, as he pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing a chiseled smooth chest, and hard abs unlike any I had ever seen. He quickly reached into his pants for his key to his front door, as I tossed my shoes off my feet.
The apartment was dark, other than the ambient light thrown off by the buildings outside, he grabbed my hand to pull me inside. I looked at the clothes scattered in the elevator foyer. “Don’t worry, it’s my private foyer, they’ll be there in the morning.” Tristen said and suddenly his lips were on my again as he lifted me off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist as we walked deeper into the dark apartment. I felt his hard cock rubbing against my ass as he maneuvered us through darkens until we both fell on a soft leather sofa. Our lips were still locked onto each other’s, with our tongues diving deep into one another’s throats. My hands digging through the thick locks of his hair, as I felt his warm hands exploring my hard, perky nipples.
Our collective moans would have woken the neighbors if we cared, but all we wanted now was to get each other naked. As we both struggled to do, with our lips still locked together. I felt my pants and underwear being pushed off my hips, only to be tangled in the stiffness of my cock. My hands were pulling on the back of Tristan’s pants, with my thumbs under the band of his boxer briefs, I pushed them over both sumptuous mounds, exposing his perfect ass which my hands quickly coveted as I began to knead his warm flesh with my fingers.
Obviously frustrated with our lack of progress, Tristen pushed up off me and looked down into my eyes. I could see the want and desire beaming back at me as he looked at my half naked body. He stood up, my eyes drank in the beauty of his body. His chest was smooth, his pecks pronounced with his nipples as small as buds protruding, aching for attention. My gaze went lower, his abs were like steel rods crisscrossing his stomach, tight, firm and flawless, and then there was the small indentation of his perfectly shaped bellybutton. My eyes continued to the open winged flaps of his pants, exposing his underwear, with his button and zipper completely undone. And what I was staring at took my breath away. His Calvin Klien black boxer brief swathed the engorged pillar of his huge, hard cock that was so desperate for release. It was fat and thick. Stemming from the bottom of his zipper, extending high until its head thrust against the waistband of his underwear. I reached out for him, but I was too late, Tristen had already turned his attention to the confines of my pants.
One leg, then the other, until I was only clad in my black briefs. Tristen knelt next to me and pushed his face in between my legs. I could feel the heat of his breath on my tight balls, as he pressed into them with his right hand. I moaned at the touch, until he began licking the taught fabric encasing my aching cock, sending shivers up my spine. I arched my back, pressing myself into the touch of his tongue as it moved upward, towards my pulsing head.
About the Author
Michael has been an LGBT romantic short story writer for 20+ years before undertaking his first novel. He has consistently demonstrated a passion for reading and writing gay romantic stories which he continues to pursue in this his first book titled The Talent’s Choice, a gay romantic novel. Readers who have appreciated Michael Dee's previous works will find his latest endeavor equally captivating.
The pacing of this story was excellent overall, keeping me immersed in Tristan’s and Cory’s emotional turmoils and evolving careers. Their slow burn romantic arc felt relatable and authentic. The intimate scenes in the jet and the interaction at the airport were genuinely moving.
Sometimes the multitude of characters got in the way of the romance. However, the story was rich with trope-aware setups, emotional conflict, and a relationship that evolves organically. Tristan and Cory were engaging, and their personal histories and vulnerabilities made them feel real. Mutual respect and clear consent in their intimate moments gave an additional level of care to the narrative. The presence of supportive friends, family, and secondary relationships added warmth.
A favorite interaction: “You know I love you so much,” I said, my eyes growing tired as we snuggled together in bed. “Oh god, Cory, I forgot to tell you! We have a date for the premiere!” Tristan said with great excitement.
Tristan’s hopes to break into acting, his early modeling struggles, and career versus love struggles dominated his arc. Cory’s background as a flight attendant, his self-doubt, and longing for authentic intimacy rounded him out nicely. Their motivations to find genuine love amidst the entertainment industry’s pressures felt credible. Their voices, through internal monologues and dialogue, were distinct.
Tristan is hopeful but anxious, Cory is grounded and cautious. Supporting characters like Ryan and Keira deepened the stakes, especially with Ryan’s interference creating real conflict and hurt. Sometimes the huge ensemble cast and side stories diluted the focus from the couple’s story. But overall, the romantic evolution was believable.
The NYC and LA settings and the modeling and airline industry details created an immersive backdrop. Scenes on set, commercial shoots, and airport life were vividly rendered. The Hollywood studio drama felt authentic. The Mexico shoot and the private island adventure added a light exotic flavor without overshadowing the romance.
Themes of self-acceptance, authentic love, the price of ambition, and the power of friendship came through strongly. The tone was consistent, balancing romance with darker moments of heartbreak and manipulation. The hopeful, tender moments, such as the proposal scene or quiet bedroom intimacy, offset the tension. Humor was subtle, usually occurring in banter or personal reflection.
The heartfelt family moments, such as Tristan coming out to his parents or meeting Cory’s family, added emotional resonance. The extensive secondary character developments and less relevant partying scenes slowed the story in places. At times the stakes around cheating and studio interference felt intense but occasionally these dragged on without new revelations or evolution.
Tropes like struggling actor, industry sabotage, and second chance love were handled with emotional authenticity. Tightening some subplots, trimming longer passages, and strengthening the voices of secondary characters would improve the narrative, but Tristan and Cory's love story shines.
I didn’t join the force to play dress-up in designer heels and
pretend to be someone’s girlfriend, but apparently life has a twisted
sense of humor. And mine comes with a six-foot-something ego, a movie-star
smile, and a peculiar knack for getting under my skin.
Marco Dal Santo is everything I don’t trust: cocky, charming, reckless,
and way too comfortable in a world built on smoke and mirrors. I’m
supposed to use him to get close to people who hide crimes behind champagne
and expensive suits. He’s supposed to be a means to an end. Convenient.
Temporary. And fake.
But there’s one small problem. It doesn’t really feel fake because
every time he touches me, every time he pushes past my defenses and makes me
feel something real, I forget that we’re supposed to be pretending.
Somewhere between the staged kisses and very real arguments, the lines get
blurred, and I can’t tell what’s part of the job…and what
isn’t.
We’re caught up in a world where one wrong move can get us killed, yet
I’m starting to realize the most dangerous part of this case isn’t
the criminals we’re chasing.
It’s him.
Because if anyone finds out I’m developing genuine feeling for my fake
boyfriend, I’ll lose my badge, my mentor’s trust, and possibly my
heart in the process.
So yeah…I’m in way over my head.
And the worst part?
I’m not sure I want to be rescued.
Trigger warning: Gun violence, trauma victim and grief.
About the Author
Number cruncher by day, raging romance novelist by night;
Jacqueline’s creative inspiration stems from romance and all its
literary and rom-com depictions. Matters of the heart are what fascinates her,
because ultimately, what makes a life out of - what would ordinarily be a
typical existence - is Love
After six years without a word, a once tight friendship is in tatters. But they are mates. They cannot avoid each other forever.
Blurb
Pyxlevir Valzadari is a lucky elf. Loving family, wealth, and beauty are among his advantages. Although young, he is determined to have a successful career working for his father’s company. The other thing Pyxlevir wants is a mate. But he dares not dream about his best friend, Gramlithyn, in that role.
As a hybrid, Gramlithyn Verdanyth stands out in his tribe despite his mother’s insistence that he follow every elven tradition to the letter. Gramlithyn adores his parents and does what he’s told. All his energy goes into telling anyone who’ll listen that he doesn’t want a mate. It’s a lie. Gramlithyn wants Pyxlevir, but his closet pal is too busy fantasizing about a future with anyone but an elf-zebra like him.
Gramlithyn and Pyxlevir met at six years old, and it was an instant connection. For twelve years, they had an incredible friendship. Then Fate intervened and connected their souls. Pyxlevir is shocked, and Gramlithyn is crushed. So, Gramlithyn does the only thing he can think of. He runs from everything and everyone.
Now they’re twenty-four and their worlds have collided again, but is it too late to salvage their matebond?
Excerpt
The soft, earthy scent of carrots wafted toward Pyxlevir, but the man who walked up behind his friend was a stranger.
This wasn’t a hybrid who adhered to elven traditions; Gramlithyn had hacked off his long hair. The longest portion of his fringe didn’t even hit his eyebrows. Tiny silver hoops glittered in his earlobes. A black button-down shirt suited his pale green complexion, and the sleeves were rolled up to expose tattoos on both forearms.
His right arm sported a serpentine dragon, and on the left was a winding vine with leaves and dainty flowers. Whoever had inked him was incredibly skilled, and the black-and-gray images were gorgeous, but tattoos were taboo to every elf. Faded jeans covered his legs, and a pair of worn combat-style boots in the same raven as his top completed the look.
For some inexplicable reason, a sensuous wave of arousal nearly as intense as—or was it perhaps better than—the moment Pyxlevir had discovered Gramlithyn was his mate flowed through him, and he shivered. He dearly hoped the length of his tunic covered his dick’s interest in his other half.
As Pyxlevir stood mute, drinking in the luscious sight of a twenty-four-year-old Gramlithyn and quickly updating his mental image of the teenager who’d abandoned him, the hybrid shooed his best friend out of the doorway.
“Do you want to come in so we can talk?” Gramlithyn asked. Again, he didn’t greet Pyxlevir, nor did he allow any emotion to cross his face. Too much time had passed for Pyxlevir to guess any of the feelings in his dark brown gaze.
Thankfully, the flatness of his question helped Pyxlevir quell his visceral reaction to Gramlithyn. Determined to be aloof, Pyxlevir lifted his chin.
“Of course,” Pyxlevir responded. Gramlithyn turned, and Pyxlevir curled his fingers into fists. The way the light denim clung to Gramlithyn’s ass was a sight now seared into Pyxlevir’s mind. But he dug his nails into his flesh to ensure that he wasn’t distracted by hormones.
It was weird to have sexuality again. As the years passed, Pyxlevir thought less often about the few seconds of arousal he’d experienced on his eighteenth birthday. It turned out that as an elf with an absent mate, the desire to stroke himself to completion had quickly faded.
“Would you like to have a seat?” Gramlithyn asked.
Without a word, Pyxlevir chose the only chair in the room so his reckless body would focus on something besides getting off. He didn’t want to be mired in his emotions, but he also refused to lose himself in some sexual fantasy either.
Gramlithyn settled on the edge of the bed farthest from where Pyxlevir sat. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other without a word. The scent of carrots faded thanks to the distance between them, which helped Pyxlevir drag his mind fully from the gutter. Now all he could feel was sadness that he had no clue what Gramlithyn was thinking.
The last time they’d been in the same room, Pyxlevir would’ve been able to assess Gramlithyn’s emotions with a glance and probably been able to guess exactly what was happening in his head.
Those days were long gone.
“I have a proposal that I hope you’ll take into consideration despite the elven traditions it breaks,” Gramlithyn stated. “Some things are forever…others, not so much. I’d like to suggest that you, me, and our closest friends move in together for a year. They can act as witnesses so that at the end of those twelve months, we can request separation papers and start the process of having our matebond dissolved with a demonic spell.”
Pyxlevir swallowed thickly and wished he’d shown more caution when he received Gramlithyn’s text. But he supposed nothing could have prepared him for six years of silence broken by Gramlithyn’s request that they allow someone of demonic blood to permanently destroy the bond Fate had granted them.
A deep, festering pain started in Pyxlevir’s soul and clutched at his heart. Somehow, it was worse being rejected again. Gramlithyn wasn’t reacting like a scared teenager. The stranger staring at him was a grown man with plenty of time to think about his future. One he preferred Pyxlevir not to have a role in.
He’d already recast someone else as his best friend. It appeared Gramlithyn wanted Pyxlevir firmly in the column of buried history, and it stung. Despite the warm temperature of the hotel, a frigid chill froze Pyxlevir in place, but he refused to allow anything to show outwardly.
The one thing Pyxlevir would not do was let Gramlithyn see or understand how much his words hurt. Tears were already desperate to fall, but Gramlithyn wasn’t privy to that. Not anymore.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley has published over forty titles and refuses to pick a favorite among them. With an extraordinary passion for her characters, Jessamyn eagerly crafts new tales and avidly re-reads them whenever her schedule allows. Jessamyn shares a home in Nevada with her husband and their three spoiled cats. When she is not writing or adding new ideas to her thick stack of beloved notebooks, she is gaming with family and friends.
The following promo contains material suitable only for readers 18+.
An LGBTQ+ BDSM Sci-Fi Romance
Date Published: June 19, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
"Humans are a legend. They don't exist."
When Lord Xev and his lover, Ra, leave their home in search of a woman to bond
with them, they know exactly where to go. Risen Outpost is the most lawless
place in the galaxy, and Pale Moon Auction House offers the finest sex slaves
on the market. What the Zaronians don't expect is to find one of the legendary
humans for sale to the highest bidder.
Kirin Ellison doesn't know what's happened to her. The shock of discovering
aliens exist is bad enough, but realizing they plan to sell her as a sex slave
is far worse. Kirin watches the other women preening and displaying their
attributes, begging to belong to someone, with growing alarm. She wants her
freedom. At least she thinks she does --- until one touch from Xev and Ra
enslaves her in a far more binding way than a simple exchange of a currency
could ever manage. She longs to feel everything the strange beings have to
offer, but unless Xev is willing to make a sacrifice of his own, she dare not
let him capture her heart.
Music reverberated through Kirin Ellison's Mazda as she drove down the lonely
two lane country road. Humming along to the radio, she glanced up at the sky.
The black velvet above was dotted with stars. In the city, she never really
had the chance to see the night sky -- the view here was breathtaking.
No one was expecting her back in Chicago until tomorrow. She didn't need to
rush. Her camera lay on the passenger seat beside her. Pulling over onto the
gravel shoulder, she parked next to a fenced pasture.
The warning bell dinged as she carefully pulled out her beloved equipment.
Wedding and graduation photography paid the bills, but she couldn't escape her
true calling -- she felt drawn to beautiful panoramic landscapes.
Kirin looked up at the silky night sky and began to visualize the shots she
would take. The rural beauty was exactly what she wanted. These prints would
sell fast in the city.
Chuckling to herself, she shook off the feeling that she was being watched.
"I've been in the city way too long," she muttered as she made sure the tripod
was stable.
A sudden flash to her left made her straighten and turn. She gasped as three
bluish-green lights hovered in the air.
"Oh my God!" Kirin's hands shook as she began frantically snapping pictures.
Kirin focused intensely on the lights. She wished her camera had video
capability. She expected the hovering lights to fly away, but they didn't.
These prints were definitely going to be a moneymaker.
The lights suddenly catapulted forward and to her horror, they now hovered
directly over her car. Her courage held her for only three more shots before
her shaking hands managed to free the camera from the tripod. Snatching up her
equipment, she rushed back to the car, but froze when a bright light
illuminated the area around her. Her eyes widened as the car levitated off the
ground. The pulsating yellow light was actually pulling the Mazda skyward.
Kirin bit her lip and stumbled backwards. She had no interest in finding out
where her car was going. Her foot slipped on the dew-damp grass and she
tumbled backward into the darkness. Pain radiated through her head and her
teeth clicked as her jaws snapped together. She blinked up and the darkness
vanished. She lay bathed in bright yellow light. Something trickled down her
neck and she realized she was bleeding, but that was the least of her worries
right now.
Blinking rapidly, Kirin tried to clear her vision, but the lights went in and
out of focus. She felt her body lifting. "No," she moaned.
Unconsciousness claimed her.
When Kirin next opened her eyes, she blinked up at a bright light. She tried
to swallow but something was down her throat. Soft plastic cradled her nose
and mouth. She looked down her nose at the strange mask. The effort gave her
an intense headache and she tried to groan, but the tube down her throat
didn't allow the sound to come out. She lay in a warm cocoon, perfectly
cradled in softness. To her horror, she realized she was naked. She tried to
move, but she couldn't. The paralysis was surreal. Her vision was blurry and
she blinked rapidly, but it didn't seem to help. She felt as if she were
floating.
Vaguely, she wondered if she'd been drugged.
A dark shadow blocked the light to the left and she tried to focus on what --
or who -- it was. Her eyes widened and she tried to scream. Being immobile
added a sharp bite to her terror. The creature was tall and blue. It had
tentacles jutting out of its rather large head, and it didn't look happy.
Coming closer, it made some sort of gibberish noise and ran its hand down her
arm, then her hip and leg. She shuddered. Something moved in a blur to her
left and she felt a quick stab of pain before her eyes fluttered closed and
darkness dragged her back into oblivion.
* * *
"This trip has been long overdue, my friend.. The burden of politics wearies
me," Lord Xev muttered. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
The male between his legs took his cock into his mouth and bobbed his head
passionately up and down on Xev's shaft. Xev watched Ra's devotion through his
long lashes. Long, soft blond hair brushed Xev's thighs. Eyes half closed, he
stretched his arms across the back of the divan.
The crowd bustling about the tavern and the buzz of voices only made Ra's
fellatio more erotic. His companion made a loud popping noise as he pulled his
mouth away from Xev's erection. Ra's big blue eyes gazed up at him adoringly.
Xev could tell he wanted to say something.
"You may speak," he graciously offered.
"You are right, my lord. I have felt the burden of hiding my affection for
you. I lust for you, my lord. Every time I am in the room with you, my cock
aches for your touch."
Xev smiled down at his lover. He cared deeply for Ra. Their friendship, and
Ra's servitude, had grown into a comfortable pattern, but something was
missing. They both agreed on that point. "I understand, my friend. The Order
would never accept our bond. Here we are free, but you know I can never leave
the Order, even to delight in the debauchery of the fringes. This is just a
short trip. We will return."
The glimmer of hope died in Ra's beautiful eyes and he quickly lowered his
head and kissed Xev's balls. When Ra glanced up, tears shimmered in his eyes.
"I know your place, my lord, even as I know mine, but one can dream."
About the Author
Ashlynn Monroe is a busy working mom. She loves her kids and family. Her
greatest joy is creating stories to entertain others, and she hopes they bring
a little more romance into the world. She's been writing since her teens for
her own enjoyment but decided in her thirties to share her imagination with
readers. Ashlynn enjoys biking, camping, reading, video games, and filling her
home and life with love. If she's not working or chasing children, you can
find her daydreaming up her next tale of romance.
Oh, Tal! Not Like That., a new book by autistic actor Tal Anderson and
award-winning Hollywood artist, Michael Richey White, is Book 2 in the Oh,
Tal! series for children.
Tal and the family cat, Winnie are once again taking on the world, and this
time, they're doing it at school. Tal starts the school year off excited, but
quickly learns that in the classroom, they like kids to follow directions, and
to be the same, and do things uniformly. Tal has different ideas, however, and
classmates and teachers work hard to teach and model the "right way" to do
things.
In the end, they all learn a valuable lesson: that there are more ways than
one to get things done, and that expressing yourself authentically leads to
good things. Once again, Tal wins over hearts and confirms it's okay to be
different, be yourself, and to follow your own path.
About the Author
Tal Anderson is a professional actor, filmmaker, and writer. She is an
advocate for change, using her voice and unique platform as an autistic actor
to support inclusion and authentic representation in front of and behind the
camera in Hollywood. She is best known for her work in the Netflix series
"Atypical" as Sid, but can also be seen and heard in many other productions
including, guest-starring in Season 5 of "Magnum P.I." on NBC, and as the
English voice of Tina in the Disney Plus series, "Team Chocolate." Tal has
always been a storyteller, and as a child could be seen constantly using her
FLIP video camera, or one of several hand-held voice-recorders to record every
day life, or her daily performances of stories/scripts she had made up or
written. It is this love of imagination that led her to acting and filmmaking
as an adult. "Oh, Tal! - Not Today," is Tal's first book. She lives in Los
Angeles with her cat Winifred, where they can both live their best lives and
be their true selves.
Enjoy my new moon reading! I managed to find a thumbnail where I look jolly rather than just goofy, although I may still look drunk or high. I'm not, I just look that way naturally.
