I’m revising an intricate new novel, and it’s fantasy – which is not a genre I’ve written much until now.  Part of the storyline is about healing both magical and otherwise. Come to find out I was taking the significance of healing way too lightly in this book.  l discovered this by catching the head cold from Hell, which went for my lungs and finally sent me to the doctor with bronchitis and pleurisy. Prescription meds and the care of friends who plied me with good advice and chicken soup finally got me around the corner.  I’m s-l-o-w-l-y (but gratefully) getting better. Oh. Right. Healing makes the difference between misery and ease, despair and hope, nights of dreaming sleep and nights of dreadful wakefulness.  These are distinctions that healthy people may tend to underestimate.  By way of being flat on my back in bed, I stand corrected.