What a revoltin’ development this is!

Your New Favorite Writer’s thrills and chills of the past week have shaken loose a flurry of new notions–things I must share with you or burst–yet those same impacts, centering on major surgery in my lower spine, have left me wounded on the field, writhing in pain, unable to lift the flimsiest quill to set forth any manifestos.

Woe is me! Woe unto all in my estate: Popping with ideas and lacking any train of thought, any line of persistent expression, across which to festoon them.

I am reduced to hunting and pecking, upward from below, on a cell phone to string a concatenation of letters, one by one, hoping they will arrange themselves into words, and the words into thoughts and sentences, and it will all mean something while I lie spraddled on an ice pack.

Is it time for my next pill? Yes, please.

Next week, Dear Reader.

Blessings,

Larry F. Sommers

Your New Favorite Writer