It started as usual. I was scrolling through YouTube to find some inspiration for the scene I was going to write. It was a bittersweet peace, and I needed something similar. When I noticed a weird-looking guy blowing an ancient trumpet, I thought, why the hell not?

Now I’m addicted to it. It feels like it messed with my brain because I can’t stop listening. Slow, gentle, flowing lines feel like they reach to your soul, anchoring so firmly that if you try to pull it off, you would rip your own heart. I don’t know if the melody synchronized with brain waves or maybe just mine brain waves, but the effect is more than welcome.

Because I just smashed 15,000 words … in 3 days. And completed two short stories for my Christmas special. All while listening to some old guy blowing the trumpet. That feels just surreal, but if I can say anything, Armenian duduk is my new brain-enhancing drug, and I intend to use it a lot while working on my new book.