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I’m fighting a cold. And losing. Viruses seem to attack at times that I otherwise have both time and motivation to write (fiction, that is, not a quick blog post). One day, I’ll write an entire collection of vignettes under the influence of TheraFlu. Until then, I’ll stick to complaining that my body apparently doesn’t want me to write fiction. Today’s bout comes at an especially bad time as I have two projects underway that I am damn excited about. One, I’ve hinted at a few times before (coded 4C until myself and the other writers involved come up with something better), which is about 80% complete. I can smell the maggots on the bloody horizon. The other, a project I haven’t much started but for sketching a few ideas and doing some homework reading, is already gnawing at me. The homework: read Riddley Walker by Russell Hoban. The assignment:…

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