I have been writing and writing and writing—pretty much nonstop, without coming up for air. Five chapters are now complete. I think I may be turning into a mushroom, having spent so much time in a cool, dark room without much sunlight or fresh air. Yes, there’s a fungus among us.
The last two chapters have been struggles, and the amount of research and reading I have to do to prepare to write each letter is overwhelming, especially with such a truncated schedule. Yesterday, I hit a serious wall, and literally could muster neither the physical nor mental energy to go on. My eyes are continually sore and strained, and I look like hell. I took a short break to…