How are you? Check in, WU Community.
By Therese Walsh | April 7, 2020 |
Everything can change in an instant. Most of us are living examples of that right now, as COVID-19 ravages the world and its people. So while I had another post planned for today–one about the essentiality of story at a time like this–I want to do something more personal. Something different.
I want to know how you are.
Where you are.
What you’re doing.
How things are different.
How things are the same.
I want to know if you’re writing.
If what you’re writing has changed.
If you feel inspired to write something else.
What that might be.
I want to know that you’re okay.
I want you to know that you’re not alone.
I want everyone who reads this to leave a comment, and for us to gather and share and know we have one another right now, even if it all feels so damned tenuous.
It is. Life is.
For me, my days haven’t changed overmuch, at least not on the surface of things. I spend my time at home, writing one thing or another, or reading one thing or another. But now I do that with my husband working nearby as well. I’ve been trying to connect more deeply to my work-in-progress, to use it for a dearly needed escape from reality. Results are mixed but I’m committed. When I start my day reading or listening to the news, I lose hours of productivity, and so I’m trying to make changes to my routine, though it’s hard not to seek those updates. There are more texts and calls from friends and family, too–checking in, worried, anxious. Sometimes I am bizarrely calm. Other times, filled with dread. But I’m okay, we’re all okay, and we’re being as careful as can be.
Before I turn things over to you, I’d like to leave you with this final thought:
Things will be different on the other side of this crisis, in ways known and unknown to us. We won’t be able to control much of that–most of that. But we can control some of that. The gift of chaos is in the ability to create a new order from its leavings. We can see from our place in the eye of the storm just what’s most important to us, and recommit to making those things a priority. We can choose not to return to the way things were, if the way things were wasn’t getting us where we wanted to go. We may think about our dusty dreams, and decide to dedicate ourselves to them wholeheartedly. It was directly after 9-11, when the message of life’s too short resonated most loudly, when I started to write what eventually became my debut novel.
Something wicked this way has come, but there will be an after.
Control what you can. Breathe though the rest of it. Be safe, stay well, write on.
Over to you, my friends.
Therese Walsh (she/her) co-founded Writer Unboxed in 2006 and is the site’s editorial director. She was the editor of WU’s only book, Author in Progress, and runs the Writer Unboxed UnConference.
Her second novel, The Moon Sisters, received starred reviews and was named one of the best books of the year by Library Journal and Book Riot.
Learn more about Therese on her website, and sign up for her newsletter to be among the first to hear about any new projects.
So nice of you to ask us all to check in, Therese. I’m sheltering in Florida so able to write (finish tweaking my WIP a YA historical novel–I HOPE!) and still golf–by nature a social-distancing activity, particularly if you walk a course. I’ll probably never have this gift of time again to do two things I like. Safety to all!
Stay safe, Carol! There’s been debate about golf courses here in NY. They were closed, then opened, and no one really knows what’s best; I think until we really understand everything there is to know about transmission, we have to take great care. So you do that, friend. And keep writing! Good luck with your YA historical!
We are doing fairly well at our place. I have been able to get out in the gardens, which has helped my mood greatly. I already worked from home, so I continue with my 9-5 as usual and watch my colleagues get used to the work-from-home life. I have even done some writing, though had to pause for some research, which I will get to once I’ve read a few books for other people.
Like many others, I’ve had a lot of events canceled (I think we’re up to 12 now) and am hoping that most will be rescheduled, but I haven’t minded not being busy driving here and there and everywhere. So that’s kind of a mixed bag. I figure I’ll play catch up in the fall and/or next year when I have a new book coming out.
The one thing that I know will wear on me soon is just having everyone else AROUND all the time at home. It will be nearly six total months of my son home from school (summer vacation already felt long) and my husband is working from home more than usual as well. It makes it easy to plan mealtimes with no events or practices or evening meetings, but I am starting to feel that pull to just go to a restaurant…and alone time is really important to my mental well-being. I need time when no one is depending on me or asking me questions or expecting me to do anything.
My son started online schooling yesterday and he is rather self-directed, so that is nice. It will give structure to his days and it removes my underlying anxiety that he is wasting time and is going to fall behind.
My husband has been livestreaming church services (actually, it’s kind of a family production at this point, with me on sound, our 11-year-old son working the camera, and Zach pulling together recordings from various members doing readings and prayers, then delivering the sermon). We’ve done a “virtual narthex” over Zoom after the service is done, which allows us to socialize and see one another. And we’ve done similar things on Wednesday nights–prayer meetings or game nights. And I’ve been working my way through the church directory, sending cards to people who live alone or are separated from family.
All in all, we have it rather easy and I count my blessings. My anxiety is directed outward, toward others, especially those with small businesses and restaurants. Take out helps, but it’s not enough. Ordering books from my local indie helps, but it’s not enough. We will most certainly lose some places we love. And that really saddens me.
Erin, what a gift to your community you’re providing with all that outreach, especially to those who live solitary lives. I hear you about feeling a little smothered by ALL THE PEOPLE, ALL THE TIME, and I hope you do find ways to carve out some solitude. It isn’t the same as dining out, but we’ve indulged in a nice dinner from one of our city’s best eateries–helps the city, helps us mentally too. And I’m sorry to hear about all of your cancelled events. “The Words between Us” sounds like a intriguing novel. Here’s to hoping you’ll be able to rebuild that momentum on the other side of this storm. Be well!
I’m writing! It’s my escape and my grace. But I’m also an anxious stress case, feeling strangely triggered by things you’d never predict. I’m doubling down on connecting with people I really know–my family, my oldest friends–doing more checking in, more just touching base. At the same time I’m feeling oddly disconnected from the us on social media, where people’s fears and values come through in this crisis, and some of them I can’t really relate to. Let’s stand up and be heroic in these time. Let’s not be afraid of children coming too close on bicycles, or whether that clerk wiped the counter well enough. We have to be safe to keep others safe. But let’s look high, not low. One of the few places online that I’ve felt able to visit lately has been WU. So thank you, Theresa, for this post. I am grateful for the heart and heroics you’ve modeled for us all.
Amen! The things like people “reporting” kids playing basketball in the local park might drive me to the loony bin
I agree with you that we need to take care not to let our fear make us ugly. I’ve heard a lot about people being cruel to grocery store workers and the like, which is just the worst. There’s a report out today about a rise in deaths in that group of workers, which while not surprising is a wake-up call for anyone who takes from these people and leaves them with nothing more than a sharp word. Best not to forge a whole new slate of regrets from this crisis, but rather to bring the best self you can do each day. Stay well and keep writing, friend.
The grocery store news has hit a nerve with me. I had been thinking about how hard they are working and under what conditions. I had been trying to determine what I might be able to do for them to express gratitude when the news hit that the first grocery worker had died. I live in a small town and my lungs are compromised already from pulmonary emboli several years ago, so my husband has forbidden me to go to the store. But he goes virtually every day. We live in a small town and so far have been isolated. But summer is coming and this town gets around 20,000 seasonal residents, so we have no idea what comes next. We only have one grocery. I love those people who are working there. I’m at a loss what to do for them, so if any of you have ideas, I would so welcome them.
Diane, I feel for you. Small-town grocery shopping can be challenging if you aren’t able to shop for two weeks at a time. That’s the recommendation we’re trying to live by, but it may be a NY thing, and it may not be possible in smaller communities. One thing you might do is have your husband ask your friends at the store if there’s anything that might be done. They may have ideas and need help implementing them. Stay safe, and protect those lungs of yours.
We’re doing well here in our seclusion. I have two kids whom I homeschool anyway, so there has been no huge shift, other than in our social life. I have found, though, that this time at home has left me with renewed focus on my novel-in-progress and a sudden urge to work on a new project. I have been able to look at this uncertain time as a blessing to navigate a new course in my creative life.
I’ve enjoyed these posts from WU; they help me to focus on my writer-self. Thank you!
Anna, I’m so glad to hear that you’re recommitting to a creative life, and it’s great that you have a new idea, too. You are likely an outlier mama in terms of feeling in your comfort zone while home schooling. What are your favorite resources for those who might be new to “the gig”? Stay well, and all best to you re: your new project.
Having maintained my freelance practice from home for many years, I can say that it has not yet changed, although there may be pandemic effects down the line.
Writing? Pandemic stress has nibbled away at my long project, but I’ve revived my beloved flash fictions and essays, one of which was published for the reward of an Amazon credit. Some almost-forgotten flashes crawled out of my fat file of old neglected stuff, begging to be revised. And I’m even generating a few new ones. The short-short form seems to be adapted to my present state of mind. It’s writing—it’s writing—and I’ll take it in any form.
I love that you’re embracing short-form writing, Anna. Once upon a time, I was really into flash fiction, too, and I can see how a comeback might be the right balm for the times. Thank you for sharing.
Like a lot of other writers I know, I’m having a hard time focusing. There is the distraction of the news/internet, that dread and worry at the back of my mind that sometimes grabs hold, and minor panic attacks.
I have, however, managed to write 17k new words since this began, somehow.
I am also walking every day with my dog, who thinks this hole time off thing is marvelous, reading (just finished The Vine Witch and it was wonderful), and am thankful it’s spring rather than winter. I am safe, not alone, and there’s food in the fridge, and (YAY!) toilet paper in all the bathrooms. Things could be much worse.
Now, if only my double-u key would start working again (thank God for spell check and autocorrect).
Thanks for this.
Hi, MsHatch, first, that is FANTASTIC about writing 17k new words since the crisis began! What is your genre? Also, hooray for toilet paper and food and walking and happy dogs. I do want to pass along a link to Head Space, if you haven’t heard of it/want to try it/think it might help. There’s a page there dedicated to New York right now, with some great calming clips. Worth a listen? It helps to not only remember to breathe but to set aside some time to focus only on that. (And trust me, I am trying to take this advice, too, so I hope I don’t sound preachy.) Here is the link, fwiw: https://www.headspace.com/ny
Also, so glad to hear you enjoyed The Vine Witch. I have that one in my queue, and look forward to it.
Be well!
Ooh thank you for that link! I am going to try that today :) And I write fantasy/speculative/scifi
Thanks, Marcy! :D
Good idea, T. I hope a lot of folks respond to your call. I think there’s strength to be drawn from one another.
I’ve cut waaay back on my news consumption in the past week or so. I’ve found the daily spin makes this all the more Groundhog Day.
Mo and I were just talking about the sort of bright side of this, the “pause on the crazy” factor–particularly for her. She’s been able to do a bunch of continuing ed stuff and really get her systems in order–things she never gets the chance to even stop to think about when she’s got all of those plates spinning. And I know you and Sean are like we are: delighted to have the additional time together. We almost feel guilty about it, and like Erin, we recognize how lucky we are.
As for the writing, yes, every day. Lately even weekends. That hasn’t changed, as I was chasing down “The End” of this rewrite before this all started. The work feels fresh and vital and worthy, so that’s a blessing. Regarding the clarity at the eye of the storm you mention (brilliant metaphor), I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the big picture story. Like, the entire lives of both generations of my storytelling.
It feels important right now to really contemplate their meaning. It’s such a vast swath. I can see that it’s me struggling with so many themes and broader explorations of what it means to exist. One moment it all feels too big, and the next I perfectly see that, of course it is. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be worthy of the meaningfulness its seeking.
Had a funny thought last weekend. There are only two characters who are there at the very beginning and the very end of all six books–a 50+ year era (Brin and Arnegern). It made me recognize the importance of their roles as witnesses–their curiosity, their reflection, their hopefulness. And then I thought how they both sort of reflect me as a witness. That’s my big picture. That’s my aspiration. I want my work to inspire curiosity, reflection, and hopefulness. Seems to be working for me. Maybe that’s enough.
Glad to hear you guys are still going strong (say hey to Sean). And I’m super glad that you’re still plugging away at the WIP, and are committed. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the world needs more T. Walsh storytelling. Thanks for all you do!
“I want my work to inspire curiosity, reflection, and hopefulness. Seems to be working for me. Maybe that’s enough.”
That’s everything, V! Very interesting that there are two characters present throughout all stories, and I wonder if they each play a different role–if they represent a different way of thinking or route to the same end?
Like you, I’m off the news treadmill; it’s just too (clearly) tied to increased anxiety. There isn’t much any of us can do to change the big picture right now — just ourselves, just our now, just these tiny minutes. But then when you flip it, you see that these tiny minutes make up everything, and we can feel empowered with what we do with a block of time. I’m glad you’re doubling down on fiction and that Mo, too, is finding time to approach some of the things on her rainy-day list. We never have time for that, even on rainy days, but all progress is good right now, I think.
Stay safe, my friend.
What a caring soul you are, Therese. :) personally any lingering ADD I may have in my veins is soaring right now. I’m in the Corona loop…trying to find facts, addicted to FB, and almost completely blocked in my writing. Could be the story and nothing to do with current circus, haha. I try to get a few lines in a day at least. And I did complete a long neglected blog post, so that felt good. I am depressed not only that my live music has gone away, but cant visit my son and DIL in Nashville as planned, and I am watching my beloved craft beer industry in michigan slowly sink away. I hate that politics has to seep into this and further the divide. I have been volunteering, as have others, so that helps. Doing that has made me realize how many elderly, isolated people there are who have nobody to help them. So, the crisis has created some connections that will go on after. Probably the one bright spot in all this. I feel like I just made a diary entry with all this rambling. Thank you for all your support on WU!
“The Corona Loop” is affecting many of us, I fear, Ellen, and I’m sorry it has you in its grip, too. It’s excellent that you’re volunteering so much, and still getting to your ms to put in a few new lines daily; that will help when we’re on the other side of the crisis, I’ll bet. I’ve let my ms “get cold” on one too many occasions, and it’s always difficult to get it warmed up again. I hope those craft beer distillers are concocting new brews in a secret, safe location in their basements, and will soon reveal new and exciting offerings; we’re fans here, too. Hang on to hope.
I got hit with some intense personal upheaval less than a week before my county’s first case of the virus, so I am dealing with two huge things right now. We’re still lucky, though—we’re as safe as we can be, all at home. The college student is finishing the semester online, and the younger kids are homeschooled anyway. We have enough space to get along pretty well most of the time. I haven’t been able to write much fiction so far, but I’m continuing my journal, and story ideas are starting to peek out around the corners of my mind. And even here, even now, eventually spring will come.
Your comment is truly inspiring, Laura. Yes, spring will come, and those peeking ideas in your mind are a sure sign that it’s on its way. Stay well, friend.
It’s tough. I’m fortunate to have work to do during these uncertain times, but writing on a deadline when it feels like the world is burning around you is a challenge, to say the least. There’s so much anxiety built into the day now, the writing can feel a bit frivolous in the face of such a life-changing event.
Luanne, what you said about how writing can seem frivolous in the face of hard times is so very much what I’ve thought and felt for months. Barbara O’Neal shared this great post with me called “Creating a tolerable world,” on Terri Windling’s site. It’s politically bent, but the part I want to call out is this quote by Anaïs Nin. She wrote this after WW2 ended, after surviving much upheaval:
Aren’t we lucky to be storytellers?
Thank you. Absolutely the luckiest.
New York. I am doing well and my family members are all doing well as we continue in this homesteading. With all this separation going on, it’s interesting to me that in some ways we are all connecting at a different level through phone, emails, Facetime. I am doing more spiritual reading, mostly Eckhart Tolle, which has been sustaining me. Today’s thought is “reality is one unified whole in which all things are interwoven, where nothing exists in and by itself.”
So, I’m thinking that while some of us are experiencing directly the pain of corona virus, some of us are witnessing it in others. Eckhart says that in our attention and consciousness of this event, this connection … “the perceiver and the perceived is joined in a field of awareness. It is the healer of separation.”
Paula, first, I’m so glad you’re well and hunkered down there in the city, and that the curve is beginning to flatten there. Thank you so much for sharing those beautiful and comforting thoughts from Eckhart. Wow.
For anyone who’d like to learn more about Eckhart Tolle:
https://www.eckharttolle.com/
Stay safe, Paula!
I’ve always been driven. And the driven stabilizing force in my family of driven human beings. We are after all here for a limited time and we must make our mark, it’s our reason for existing. Now, with the world gone mad in the way of films and stories that gave us a view into what could be, we find ourselves all living some of those visions, and I find myself longing not for completed works, for the immortality of a lasting story, I just want to sow a garden, a real honest to goodness garden of flowers in pinks and blues and purple hues on a blissful day with pleasant sunlight and no storm brewing in the distance. I want to breathe unfettered by the sorrows that I know have shaped this moment but cannot overwhelm its beauty. I will never approach my writing the same way. I have learned that there is no such thing as a happy ending, because there is no ending, only moments, eternity is made of moments, moments and the promise of the soul of a garden.
Bee, you’re such a poetic person; thank you for sharing your thoughts here and for checking in. Isn’t it interesting how so many of us are going inward, reconnecting with our centers and pulling back from all the “edge pushing” we are used to? I hope you have a beautiful garden this year, and share lots of pictures.
Alls well down here in Galveston, relatively speaking. I am rewriting/revising my WIP more than I otherwise would, which is a good thing, and I’m interested in the fallout from all of this. What will “normal” life look like on the other side? As writers this is fertile soil
That is a silver lining, Al — we’re going to have a lot of new rubble to sort through at the end of this (about people, limits, our world) and all of that will empower our work.
You stay safe there in Galveston. I worry about my friends in Texas. Write on.
Hi to all. My husband and I are doing fine, as are my sons. We’re in SE PA, where the virus is closing in around us and we are told the peak will come soon, so no more shopping for us! Editing as per usual, only even busier since my husband was furloughed; he probably won’t have work until the school year starts next fall, so I must double down. The government $$ will be a cute gesture, like a tip at a bar—it will be gone in one partial mortgage payment. But all in all, thankful we can’t be evicted, that our freezer is full, and that we have our precious health. Being more vigilant than ever about exercise and fresh air. Off now, as there is a crack in my schedule and I intend to write!
I’m sorry about Dave, but glad you are working. And I’ll just say that if I had need of a developmental editor, your name would be on my shortest of short lists. I also hope you’re making good progress on your wip!
Stay safe, my friend. One of these days we’ll be able to meet up for lunch again.
So lovely of you to reach out this way to our community and to create such a beautiful conversation on this page. I’ll add two small bits only.
One is how much I was helped by Queen Elizabeth’s speech in which she called on us to connect with, and hold fast to, the best parts of ourselves. Every gesture matters.
The other is how important it is to connect through joy and delight and compassion, not through outrage. Some days it’s all I can do to keep from posting responses on Facebook to say, “Yes, I’m as livid as you are, as full of anger and grief.” But then I remember what a wise woman I used to know said, when someone complained about how things were being handled (not in a political context, but the point is the same) and her reply was, “How have you helped?” You have helped, Therese.
Yes, Barbara, I too appreciated Queen Elizabeth’s wise and steady-minded words. And that question you remembered from your wise acquaintance — “How have you helped?” struck me as the perfect response to this wide crisis, and to all.
Good to hear from you, too, Thomas. I hope there’s an update from you somewhere in this… Be well.
What a wise and kind person you are, Barbara. I’m sure many if not most of us feel layers of things and a push-pull of hope and fear. Trying to stay focused on what might do some good has helped me to feel centered. Hm, wonder where that lesson has been reinforced on the daily through 50+ writer friends over the last 14 years?
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this of all days, YOUR PUBLICATION DAY! Congratulations to you on the publication of QUEEN OF OWLS!
WU’ers, be sure to check out the video the went live this afternoon featuring Barbara talking about her book.
Today I plan to start a short story reflective of the times. I’m thinking it will be love story. I’ve never written one but something inside me wants to try.
It is Spring in British Columbia and the run off is about to start, the snow pack is above normal but with cool nights a slow melt is feeling possible. Yesterday I saw my first butterfly and a chick-a-dee is making a nest in the honeysuckle bush at my front door. White tail deer have returned to birth their fawns, this is when they become dangerous and you need to carry a stick with you when you walk to make sure that they practice their social distancing. The bear are waking from their hibernation, hungry and groggy. I must learn from them and go into hibernation. Time to rest and use up the reserves that have been built up through the years and prepare to emerge in our new Spring.
Al, thanks for the description of this season in your surroundings. My home town was in Southeast Alaska (similar climate and natural beauty), and this glimpse was a boost today.
Thank you for this beautiful description of nature. I especially loved the first butterfly. Being keenly aware of the world around me brings such miraculous surprises.
Beautiful descriptions, Al! At the start of this crisis, I went for a walk through my neighborhood in upstate NY and saw several robins — my first sight of them this season. Felt like a sign of hope.
Like Gary, not a lot has changed for me except I’m writing wayyyy less because I have been sewing hospital-grade filter face masks since this started (for my mail carrier, the neighborhood intern at cremation society, the gal down the street who runs an independent cheese shop, relatives, friends…and I even sent one to my editor in Sweden). Yesterday I sent 23 masks to a nurse friend in NYC who flew there to help out. Today I’m on mask duty again. My WIP will flow like water when I get back to it because it’s been percolating for three weeks.
Deb, you’re an angel for helping. Thanks for what you’re doing.
Hi Therese,
This line jumped out at me: “There are more texts and calls from friends and family, too–checking in, worried, anxious.” I’m getting that too, especially being in NYC. The odd (or maybe not?) thing is, the more calls and texts that come in, the fewer I answer. Even people I’m close to and *want* to chat with, I just stare at their texts or missed calls and take no further action.
I’m not writing at all. I even went two weeks without reading (from a book… I read from twitter all. the. time.), which I doubt has ever happened to me before.
On my own blog I have a bunch of COVID-related discussion posts that are really helping me stay sane, people sharing book recommendations, writing strategies, and their own experiences during this lockdown. Anyone reading this comment, feel free to share:
What are you reading: https://www.writebynight.net/coronavirus/pandemic-reading/
What are you writing: https://www.writebynight.net/coronavirus/pandemic-writing/
Writing strategies: https://www.writebynight.net/coronavirus/pandemic-writing-strategies/
General discussion: https://www.writebynight.net/coronavirus/pandemic-general/
Hang in there, everyone.
There’s a lot of dissociation right now, I think. Maybe not being quite able to respond to friends and read as you are used to doing is a symptom of that. I’ve for certain felt a few steps away from myself throughout this ordeal.
But have we ever felt so human?
Love your resources, David. Thank you for sharing.
I’m in Bergen County, New Jersey. We’re the hardest-hit county in the state, and a lot of people here have connections to NYC. So we’re getting lots of the doom-and-gloom reports for both areas.
My part-time job at the library is on hiatus until the shelter-at-home order is lifted. Fortunately, they’re paying all of us–even part-timers–while they’re closed. The down side is that we’re expected to do our jobs from home. Since most of my work involves patron interactions, it’s translated into “watch lots of training videos and track your time for the mandated reporting.”
I haven’t touched my urban-fantasy WIP in too long. Since even before this crisis broke out. But I re-read parts of it last week, and I found myself enjoying what I’d written. I’d like to get back to it, but I need to find better balance for my days.
My spouse is working from home full-time. I’m grateful she’s not trekking into Manhattan for work, given present circumstances. But, I’m finding it harder to concentrate with another person in the house.
I’m still volunteering as an editor for a e-zine, and we’re seeing an increase in submissions. I expected we’d get more submissions with folks sitting home. I’m just surprised how quickly we started getting pandemic-themed stories and poems. I’d have expected people to take longer to write on the topic.
Thanks for checking in, Therese. My best to you, Sean, and all the rest of the WU contributors.
Hi Ruth. I’m also from Bergen County – Fair Lawn. Though as a snowbird I’ve been in Florida since October, only going back up north for UnCon in Nov. We’re planning on driving back at the end of April and hopefully things will have calmed down some by then. Hope you’re doing well. I have a book signing for my debut novel set up at the Fair Lawn library in May which I’m sure will be postponed. Stay well.
It’s good to hear from you, Ruth.
Finding balance has been the hardest part of this whole thing for me. It’s come down to shutting off most of the news I’d been consuming, pretending all those shows are not available right now. And forcing myself to focus on something else. Anything else. At least I can think again.
It must be a lot more challenging to avoid the news while living in such a hard-hit area, though. I’m glad your spouse is staying at home; Manhattan is a place to be avoided for sure. (On a lighter note: “Spouse in the House” seems like a new rhyming story waiting to be written, doesn’t it?)
I hope you get back to your wip soon. Reading it and liking what you have on the page is a solid first step.
Stay safe, Ruth.
Hello from BC Canada too! (South Surrey. You, Al?)
A report from the publishing industry: at the editorial end, things are unchanged. New deal reporting is the same as before, true at my agency and apparently elsewhere. There have been a few layoffs but nothing at all like in the rest of the economy.
Bookstore closures and other factors will have a long term effect but for once the long lag between typing The End and book-in-stores is working in our favor. Publishers are acquiring for the second half of 2021 and beyond. As an industry we are already beyond the crisis.
Personally, I am finding minuses (kids at home) and pluses (dad at home) to the quarantine. My orange-olive oil cake was a triumph. Now, though, I am the household designated baker. Oh, well. Could be worse. Stay safe all and see you on the other side.
Recipe! Recipe! *begging*
Heck, just send me a cake.
I just printed out a recipe for olive oil cake the other day. We’re going to come out of this thing with new goals: to lose weight.
Thanks for reminding us of Normal, Don, and that it’s still there for us, even if it feels very alt-reality at the moment.
Stay well, and sane with the kiddos. Hello to Lisa!
I’m still writing—trying valiantly to keep up with my “rewrite one chapter a month” goal (not so easy as it seems while working full-time + completing a grad English degree, gulp). I’m trying to remind myself that just because I’m now working/schooling from home doesn’t mean I should be able to accomplish ~more~ … I’ve noticed that burnout actually happens faster right now because circumstances keep changing every day around this pandemic, which makes it harder to maintain the illusion of a routine.
The writing is a joy and an escape when I get to it—trying to keep it that way.
Ali, I hear you; everything step feels like it’s made in molasses. But you know this dance; you’ve got this–even if it feels harder.
Much luck to you.
Alive and well in the Western suburbs of Chicago. I live alone and don’t go out much so life isn’t much different. I’m sure that will change if and when someone I know contracts the virus. I do miss the friends at the writing workshops I attended. We share and critique via email but it’s not the same.
Thanks for thinking of us this way, Therese.
Fredric, it’s good to hear from you; thanks for checking in. I’m glad you’re hunkered down, especially in Chicago. Have you discovered Zoom yet? Good way to connect with those friends, perhaps?
Stay safe.
California. We are good, my husband has a compromised immune system, so we are INSIDE most of the time. Where we live we are able to take walks, keep our distance, wave at people who are also taking advantage of the sunshine. Actually yesterday we worked on taxes–life does go on in so many ways. And I am writing, yes, every day. Writing calms me, makes the day worthwhile–I AM DOING SOMETHING. And there is always the pleasure of a good book. We frequently check in on our three children–our youngest son had to cancel his wedding, but they are together in a new home, so after the tears, things are good. Wishing all of you peace and health, Beth
Beth, I’m sorry about your son’s cancelled wedding; that’s hard, especially on the heels of so much planning. But good that they’ve come to terms and are doing well.
That’s excellent that you’re writing every day, and staying inside. What are you working on?
The taxes. It’s nice that we have until July, but then again, it feels like a reason to procrastinate. I think we’ll do as you have and just get it over with in the coming days.
Take good care!
Beth, so sorry to hear of the wedding plans having to be canceled. :( Glad you are safe.
I am at home in South Carolina. The university where I work part time has closed. I wish I could say I’ve been using the time to edit and write but I haven’t. Struggles over my novel continue and I’ve been stressed over everything. This is the holiest week of my faith’s year and yet I’m barred from celebrating it at church, which has been a big burden. But I’m doing the best I can amd trying to find joy where I can.
Suzanna, I’m sorry for so much loss at once–your job (temporarily), your writing mojo, your religious community. Are there ways to connect online?
I hope things improve for you soon.
A random note: I always enjoy your tweets. What will you do with all of those saffron threads?
Like T, I go from bizarrely calm to filled with dread. My husband and I are fine so far, but we’re over 60 and we view each day as a gift. Up until the shutdown in NYC and NJ, where we live, Tim was going into NYC every day on a crowded ferry. I was blithely going to the gym. How easily we might have caught the virus!
Now we’re home everyday, the two of us. He teleworks upstairs while I work on my WIP downstairs. Tim is a judge and at this moment, he’s conducting a hearing online. Bless his heart, he called a recess in the court proceedings to help me bring in the groceries.
I hope and pray that all of you are well and that someday we’ll be back to normal, where it’s safe to give you a hug when I see you.
Tim sounds like a true gem. I’m so glad you’re both safe at home now.
The hugging thing is tough, isn’t it? I wonder if people will be afraid of friendly gestures like that for a long while. I hope not. I can’t wait to see-and hug–family and friends again.
Stay safe, Mary.
Therese, thank you for this. It’s good reading how everybody is faring.
Daniel Island, SC. We are well and settled into a good routine of work and play and prayer. Our garden is growing, the bees are humming, and we have this unexpected gift of time with our adult kids. Luckily, I don’t have to supervise their lessons :) I am content to be home but I miss church since it’s such a big part of our lives and online services just makes me cry because I’m not there-there. But this too shall pass. I’m reading and writing and singing. God bless us one and all and protect us from all dangers.
Here’s a medieval chant that I love: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8Mf-1A6YtE
Gorgeous chant, thank you Vijaya!
Yes, wonderful!
That chant was soothing, Vijaya. I sing horribly, but got away with doing abbreviated versions of Kyrie Eleison in my parochial school kids’ choir because it was a collected joyful noise. We never sounded like the stirring stuff in the video.
Gorgeous chant, Vijaya. Thank you for sharing. Are you in the choir at your church?
Reading, writing, singing, gardening to the hum of bees, reconnecting with adult children. That sounds like something to sing about, too.
I hope you’re able to reconnect with your greater community soon, friend. Stay safe.
Thanks for listening. Yes, my husband and I sing in our tiny schola–we’re nowhere close to these medieval masters but we can pull off a High Mass with a simple Gregorian chant. I love it so and miss being able to sing for Triduum…but we’re practicing both a Byrd Mass and a Mozart Mass for when this madness is over. Soon, I hope. God bless, V.
Thank you for the link Vijaya. It was beautiful and just what I needed to hear. I just wish my Latin was better, but the peace it continues to give my soul helps.
I’m currently at our farm in central Massachusetts, while my husband is working at Tufts Medical center in Boston. He and his hospital have been preparing for this for 5 weeks? 6 weeks? Time has gotten very stretchy, but I know I was already concerned enough by the first week in March to be considering cancelling a community event I help plan that takes place in August.
Sometimes it’s a curse to have a degree in public health – I studied pandemics as an undergrad. It gives the anxiety too much concrete knowledge to chew on.
3 weeks ago, Neil insisted I pack up the dogs and stay at the farm. At the time, we weren’t sure if he’d even be able to join me on weekends.
Like Therese, I vacillate between feeling fairly calm and then waves of despair crash over me. My inner border collie is anxious that she can’t herd all of her flock together. I worry about Neil and his safety.
I’m not writing any fiction, but I am blogging, trying to make a record of my thoughts and feelings before it all gets too foggy. You can read it at https://www.ljcbluemuse.blogspot.com
I’m trying to give my days structure. I created an email listserv for the small rural community here in Hardwick and we’re slowly growing a virtual common.
I’m also working with a virtual creative community to create a magazine of art created in response to the pandemic, called Isolated. That community can be found here: https://community.isolated.life/
I am utterly grateful for my WU family for the love and caring. Be safe. Be well.
Oh, boy, yes: Time has gotten sketchy. It feels like this has been forever. On the other hand, maybe it’s teaching us something, or many somethings. Will we ever again take for granted being able to do something as simple as go to a park populated with lots of other people enjoying nature?
Wonderful efforts to create community, Lisa. I’m glad for you, and to hear about your busy-ness, especially because of Neil and your pandemic know-how. How is Neil doing? And how is this changing your physical art?
Stay safe, my friend.
Thank you, Therese. Neil is exhausted but also weirdly feeling full of purpose. He’s the chair of Radiology and he’s been putting together care teams to do procedures at the bedside. I worry about him, but he’s scrupulous about PPE, as his specialty in Radiology is akin to surgical level of practice.
I’ve been doing handbuilding with clay and have a little flock of clay animals – mostly birds, but yesterday I made a snail. I look forward to the day I can get back to the studio and fire them in the kiln. The plan is to put them in the garden and give some to friends.
I love that, your flock of hope.
Hi, Therese, and thanks for asking after me. It’s hard to believe, but I’ve been isolated for several weeks already. I’m fortunate that, given my lung condition, I’m on paid, indefinite sick leave. On the downside, my isolation, outside online contacts, is total. It’s a good time to be an introvert, I guess.
One of the keys for me is staying busy, to keep my life varied. I setup a flexible plan at the start and have, for the most part, kept to it. Around the apartment I’ve been rearranging, deep cleaning, and doing redecorating. The biggest alteration was completely redesigning my home office. I also go for walks each day. One of the city’s main bike/walking paths passes virtually outside my door.
The biggest chunk of my time has been devoted to my blog and editing. Currently, I’m working on Torment Surfacing, but after that I have enough editing to carry me to November when I’ll draft again.
Much of the time I operate in a numb to neutral state, but there are times when my anxiety is high or I have to take steps to tamp down depression. I’m prone to both. Being ever vigilant is vital. When I am out, either walking or making my brief, early morning shopping excursion each week, I’ve noticed my awareness of other people is heightened despite the added distance.
My new normal is evolving simultaneously with the new normal outside my isolation. It’s difficult to predict the results. It’s heartening to know that, while we’re distanced, there are many of us who are all the closer for it. Thank you again.
Christina, I very much appreciate what you’ve written here about the changes in your awareness of others. It sounds like you are self-aware, too, in very healthy ways considering the circumstances. I’m glad you’re getting out to walk, to feel less isolated. And it’s so wise to have a flexible routine and find ways to progress your life even when things feel the opposite of moveable.
And a new office sounds quite nice! How did you change it?
Stay well, and keep in touch!
So wonderful of you to check in with us, Therese. Your words are beautiful. Thankfully the weather in southeast Florida has been beautiful so I can get out for walks and even, occasionally, with social distancing and no sharing, meet up with friends outdoors for happy hour. It keeps us feeling somewhat normal. Our beaches and pools are all closed, as are tennis an pickleball courts though I’ve found that not going has given me more time to spend on social media. Actually, right now, with my debut novel having released just before the onslaught of Covid-19, being on Facebook Twitter and Insta has been a good thing. The writing community has been so supportive, as has UnBoxed which means a great deal to this debut novelist. I’m revising my WIP (for the 3rd time) and keeping in touch with family and friends by phone and Facetime, and now Zoom. My writers group is actually still meeting weekly via Zoom We will get through this period and, at the end, hopefully be better for it. I always want to make lemonade from lemons. Stay well everyone . Read, write, daydream nice things that might wind up in another book. And watch news occasionally, just to stay informed, not to get depressed.
We’re glad we could do something to help celebrate your release, Linda, in such trying times.
I watch almost no news right now, except for Cuomo’s press conferences, but I’m a NY girl, so… I still read a lot, probably too much, about what’s going on, but it helps in that “knowledge is power” kind of way, even though I feel pretty powerless at the end of the day, as I’m sure most of us do.
Enjoy that sunshine, and that lemonade, Linda, and stay safe.
Such wonderful words, as always Therese.
I’m, like you, not terribly affected day to day except that more people are in my house. But at least I don’t have to worry about them being NOT in my house.
I’m striving to go nowhere near news until I hit my afternoon slump. And even then I try to limit myself. I find myself (more) enraged that we allowed ourselves to create a society that treats the most vulnerable, and some of the hardest working people, so poorly. I am encouraged that we can all pull together when we have to and fervently hope we will decide, after this, that maybe everyone working on the front lines of keeping society afloat deserves respect, an equal chance, protection, a fair shake. I choose to remain optimistic on this front because the alternative is unbearable.
Writing folks in my world were either leaning way in to the community or almost completely disconnected as they set up their “normal for now”. Now I’m starting to see people coming back to the community, and trying at least to journal or connect, or plan for the future. The panic is abating and weariness is the danger now. It really helps to connect with other creatives who are experiencing the same ups and downs.
Meanwhile I’m working on the launch of the 10th anniversary StoryADay May and I have no idea how that’s going to go over. But I’ll do my thing, and people who need the structure of a challenge will find me, I guess. I had big promotion plans for this year, but the world was a bit distracted. But May has become a pin in the calendar for a lot of writers, so I’m glad to have had this month to get everything realigned in my world.
I applaud your optimism and share your hope, Julie.
Let’s talk about ways we can help you promote StoryADay May. it’s a GREAT way to keep connected to writing and community with small offerings this spring. Let’s email.
Stay healthy, my friend, and enjoy that family.
As someone who isolates by nature, my loophole is FaceTime and video chats through messenger. I miss contact with my family and nine-month old granddaughter. I’m touched by friends who enquire after my well-being, and I in turn, connect with others. I limit Facebook to once a week. More, I’m thrown into overwhelm.
My shopping habits have, of necessity, changed. I am amazed at the variety and ingenuity of protections people wear. I’m sure I saw Daft Punk at my latest bi-weekly foray into the shops. Though humorous, this rankles me. If ever someone takes issue with religious headgear again, well – I’ll face that if, and when, it comes up. I think this is an opportunity for us to rise above many things.
I am less inclined to venture far to walk Roo, and opt instead to throw his ball while I work in the garden. It is in the garden, I find solace. The ducks add sweet, endearing entertainment.
Writing. The first daily paragraph or two are dedicated to whatever falls onto the page. The angst, raging shit, crap, bloody hell, f’ing eejit(s), balled mass of words then get deleted and I can move forward. The solution to my grasshopper brain is a contract with a friend. I send pages to her each Sunday.
I’m chugging along. I am grateful for connection with family, friends, and community, and with the WU Family and Community. Thank you, Therese, for your loving kindness and curiosity. As you say, It is. Life is.
I say, We Are.
Ah, Brin, love you. And you cracked me up with Daft Punk masks; what is that all about? I’m glad you’re isolating with an eye on the good things — that dog, that garden, those ducks. And it’s good to rage on the page, get it out, exhale that angst and disappointment before we inhale something better if not pure. Not yet. I’m sure your granddarling will have hugs waiting for you on the other side of this experience, and will have no memory of this at all. What a gift.
Stay well, friend.
Truly, Therese! The helmet was Daft Punk, the rest of the outfit was George Jetson – with the addition of white gloves! I anticipated catchy music any moment from the store speakers!
The upside is FaceTime. Most mornings I can see and hear sweet Addison. I hope you’re right. This will not register on her memory at all.
Wishing you and the family well.
xxx…ooo…
Virus cases are low here in small-town southern Oregon, but we (spouse and I) are physically distancing, and are well. Video visits (Zoom) with kids and grandkids and friends are great.
I’m working on three book-design and two editing projects, plus tinkering with a rewrite of a novel. Am launching a “street team” to get a little help in finding audiences for some books and building a source of beta readers as well.
Called “Ray’s Readers,” I just put up a website and have 8 volunteers so far. So glad that my work is internet-driven and at-home. I do the shopping. Looking forward to getting out in 70-degree day today for lawn work (argh! mowing), but welcome the outdoor activity.
Oh, and one of my game inventions, Flickers Madcap Minimovies, may be ideal for video interaction fun. I’m making up copies to give to friends for a trial run. It can be played as a game or just used for entertainment. I wish it were ready to go to market.
To all of you, write on, as Therese says. And thanks, Mama T, for asking.
Ray, I love your busy-ness! Great projects, all around, and creative as ever. I’m glad cases are low where you are. It seemed like the west coast was going to bear the brunt of the virus at first. Now things there look mostly contained, which is great news. I would say “enjoy that lawn,” but…
Be well.
Therese, good of you to ask, and nice to see the pipers of WU piping away. Me, I’m in Watsonville (in Central California, near Santa Cruz), and it’s a bright sunny day, after unusual spring rain of late. Both my sweetheart Alice and I work from home, and have done so for many years, so that’s not greatly different, though I read too much dyspeptic news these days.
I have been working as much as usual on nonfiction assignments for publications and have committed to at least a half-hour a day—this week and last, so far so good—on a memoir of my criminal high school years that I’d been neglecting. My fiction lies drowsing in a warm corner, dreaming of lunch.
We try to walk on the nice nearby slough trails several times a week, and are now wearing masks while outside (though I look better with them inside) and while shopping. It’s interesting to see how different people react, some showing visible fear and veering sharply away from you and others calmly distancing. We have hand sanitizer in the car and the house and use it after touching anything out in the world, which is a very small world these days.
(I went mad trying to use a gas pump the other day, with a paper towel on the handle and then forgetting about the trigger, trying to use two towels, and then forgetting that I had to use the buttons on the ATM and did so, so sanitizing after that, but not before I’d touched the car door handle, so sanitizing again. And so on. Just a normal day like all others.)
A scary time. I fear for friends, I fear for my mother in her assisted living home, where a resident on the floor below tested positive, I fear for my country and the decisions of its mad, deranged quasi-king.
But I see some spring flowers, I read good books, I hear from friends, I make fancy cocktails. My best to everyone.
Tom, you sound like me when I had to get gas for my riding lawnmower. I had a canister of disinfectant wipes and used about a beach towel’s worth. I love how the gas prices are finally low enough to travel across country on a dollar and nobody can go anywhere.
Mike, I just drive around the backyard, over and over. Helps keep the grass down too.
Ha! And you made me snort on my phone screen, which I now have to disinfect.
Dear Tom, I want to curl up in your sentences, they’re so good. I’m glad you’re writing, whatever the reason, but I do want to hear much more about this high school criminal. And though I think “dyspeptic” could be the word of the day until further notice, I love this sunny vision of sweethearts and flowers and good books. Bring on your fancy cocktail recipes, and I’ll share mine for margaritas.
Stay well, my friend. And write on, always, always.
I’m in NE PA, too, not far from Kathryn. I live on a farm (caretaker) and the owners are stuck (ha ha) in HI. Not much has changed for me (writing 7 days a wk) other than missing my grandchildren like crazy and taking more and longer walks. The silence is deeper here, too, with less traffic and no noise from the HS, deer, turkey, and geese everywhere I look. I’m feeling so many things, but as the days go by, the big one is a deeper sense of purpose. As others probably do, I tend to write to a theme, no matter what story I tell. Sometimes it’s obvious, at other times, buried. And it feels very relevant. The other big feeling is gratitude for the opportunity to witness the heroism, grace, generosity of my fellow human beings. The bad actors and bad behaviors often get all the press, but these days, we all get to bear witness to the better impulses of people, often very close to home. Here’s wishing everyone well. And thank you for this, Therese!
Oh, Susan, that was so well said about the heroes and bearing witness, feeling gratitude. Yes, and yes. I love your descriptions of the farm, the animals, your walks, the quiet, your reflections. I love that you’re writing something that resonates with meaning for you, that feels relevant. I hope you’ll be reunited with your grandchildren soon.
Stay well.
Thanks so much, Therese, for reaching out for our own reach-outs! My work proceeds as normal (from home), and I’m grateful for now having my wife also home after she suddenly lost her employment because of COVID — though she’s stir-crazy here, having always been an out-and-abouter. Meanwhile I’m finishing work on making a submission to a very fine agent for my novel, having revised and polished it throughout in the months since UnConference in Salem. I’m so grateful for fulfilling work and for a supportive community in doing it. Thanks again, Therese, and my regards to Sean! I remember so strongly the good encouragement from you both in Salem!
Thomas, all the best wishes to you as you submit that beautiful story of yours. We are rooting for you! And I hope that you reach out to let us know WHEN you have good news to share. Please do.
Stay safe, and all best to your stir-crazy wife. Maybe SHE, too, has a novel in her…
As always, Mama T, your thoughts of us come from a place of compassion. Thank you for being you.
I live in Canada, between Niagara Falls and Toronto.
The few out for a walk are walking on eggshells.
No one really understands the rules of this game.
My dog is thrilled.
I still work from a home office. Only now I never leave.
My ass hurts. Literally.
Clients are dropping like flies.
Hubby’s boss is an asshole. No idea what tomorrow will look like.
Kids are restless.
Parents are lonely but alive.
We are forever changed, but smiling.
Hugs to all.
Dee
“No one really understands the rules of this game.”
That’s it, isn’t it? They keep changing. And we have no experience with this particular game, and forget about protective gear. A chair cushion or three might be nice, at least, right?
Our dog is also confused but thrilled that Sean is home around the clock. At least that’s something.
Stay well, my friend–and well-cushioned. :-)
What a lovely and thoughtful invitation, Therese. Thank you for asking.
I live in Italy. We are continuing to see appalling numbers here. The curve is flattening up north, but not here in the Lazio region where we live. Our numbers are slowly escalating. Sheltering in place is absolutely necessary, but it doesn’t eliminate the threat. The only thing that will eliminate the threat is a yearly vaccine.
I finished a women’s fiction novel called ITALIAN LESSONS on March 9th, thrilled by the prospect of finally getting out of the house again, going on walks, admiring the cherry blossoms. Italy went into a nationwide lock down on March 10th, so I’ve been in quarantine for seven weeks now, including the time it took me to put the finishing touches on my novel.
Like a shellfish, I can exist for great periods of time on my own moisture, but the walls of my office are still walls, and walls are a prison. It hardly matters. I’m alive. The people that I love are alive. My worst day is still the best day ever as long as that continues to hold true.
What I didn’t anticipate was the difficulty of trying to find a new agent in the time of coronavirus. I’ve never had this kind of trouble before. It’s just … crickets. Half the time I’m sending out queries and I don’t know whether the agent is dead or alive.
So, yes, the writing world has a David Lynch quality that I never anticipated.
The only thing that’s keeping me sane right now is the idea of taking it one day at a time. If everyone’s okay today, that’s a triumph. And I sincerely hope that everyone’s okay today. In a way, we introvert writers have the advantage when it comes to quarantine, but that doesn’t make it easy, just easier.
Stay safe, everybody.
Stacey, I can imagine how you feel about everything happening there. One of my second cousins in Italy passed just a couple of weeks ago. She was in hospital because of a freak accident, and ended up on a respirator. We suspect that the virus played a role in how she ultimately died, but information is hard to come by right now.
You’re so right that we just have to take it one day at a time, focus on the positives, try not to feel too confined. It’s hard.
But — a positive thing? A friend of mine just landed a wonderful literary agent, so not all are trapped in a weird Lynchian world. I hope that you keep querying, and that you’re able to find your perfect agent.
Stay safe there.
Truly wonderful news about your friend, but I’m so sad for your cousin. Once you’ve been intubated and respirated, things are already quite serious. So my heart hurts for your cousin and for the ones he or she left behind. The problem with death is that it is so permanent—the one permanent thing in a world that has nothing of permanence.
And now it is a glorious spring day here in Civita Castellana, and all I see beneath my window are people breaking quarantine, refusing to social distance. So, there will be more death.
May we learn to accept the is-ness of all things.
Please take care, Therese. Thank you for bringing us together around this virtual campfire.
“May we learn to accept the is-ness of all things.”
Amen, Amen.
Thank you, Stacey, and take good care.
Thanks for asking, Therese. Reading everyone’s responses brings you all nearer.
The virus is only just beginning in my part of Vermont, but I’ve been able to isolate for weeks–such a privilege! Still writing, working on the first draft of my WIP (thanks in no small part to my accountability partner), working on freelance editing jobs, writing my weekly blog, tweeting about poetry.
The writing classes I teach have been cancelled, so I’m just starting to move them online. Last week, I did a webinar for the first time, for writers who’d registered for a conference where I was supposed to present.
My critique group and at least one book club have moved online. Two real pluses for me are that I can now take exercise classes online that weren’t available here, and I can participate in many activities I sadly left behind when I moved here a few years ago.
I miss taking care of my grandchildren, though the 3-year-old and I Skype most days. And I worry about my grown sons’ exposure, one a day care worker, furloughed for several weeks but may be called back to care for children of health care workers and first responders; the other a primary care doctor. I’ve been sewing masks for him to give to his patients and distribute in the homeless encampments here in town.
Like Vaughan, I’m severely limiting my news intake or I’d spend all day at it. I made a schedule blocking out parts of the day for different activities so I can be sure to get in exercise, etc.
Love to all!
Barbara, I feel for your sons and will keep them in my thoughts. Contributing masks as you are is such a gift. Thank you for doing that.
It’s good to hear that you’re writing so much, making use of time slated for now-cancelled plans. Adapting with online meetups with writers and readers and three-year-olds :-) is also great. Isn’t it interesting how much we really can do online? I wonder if some things will stay home-focused once the threat has passed?
Keep tweeting poetry. Boy, do we need it right now.
Stay safe!
The biggest changes to my life are I’m cooking/making 3 meals a day–I used to eat out at least once a day. Lots of dishes to wash. But it’s healthy, tasty food, and I’ve lost some weight without cutting back on anything!
I’ve made 2 personalized alphabet books for my grandchildren, whom I Facetime with almost daily. It is hard not knowing when I’ll get to visit them again–I live in Chicago and have grandkids on either coast. The alphabet books required me to write a text, making it as relevant and personal to their lives as possible. This kept me occupied all day long for over a week, and I feel I learned about writing, page makeup and design, and I listened to music the whole time. Such a relief after being inundated with news. I try to avoid the news, especially later in the day.
Having my husband at home is a little smothering, but I have a studio I can retreat to–no one else is in that space so it is safe and secluded.
I have two related projects that combine art and writing that I intend to start today. And I have 2 more alphabet books to make and if I get totally hooked on this, I have lots of grand-nieces and nephews I can make them for as well. It’s nice to concentrate on what makes each kid special and unique and funny and fun and try to capture that in an alphabet book format.
Sallie, what a fun project; I’m sure your grandchildren (and perhaps grand-nieces and -nephews!) will love those books. And win-win, keeping you distracted from news and such.
Enjoy that studio-time, and be well.
Hello from the central panhandle of Florida — once, the last bastion of hope for our state’s uninfected, but… you know… Spring Break.
I had a severe respiratory issue the month of December, with recovery taking all of January, bumping into February, so I was already on a self-imposed lock down when the news of COVID-19 began circulating. I took notice and continued my new routine. Since then, I’ve only ventured out to stock up on supplies and groceries (not during the mad rush at the beginning, I had plenty of toilet paper), and when doing so, I’ve been practically bubble-wrapped.
For sanity’s sake, I quit watching any daily updates on television, and instead, seek information at my leisure from my own trusted, online sources.
We have six cases in our county now, which, according to an NYT article, suggests an 85% penetration. The county above us has 60 cases, and is home to the only two hospitals in the area. Models presented by the hospitals show an increase of hospitalizations beginning in May, spiking to almost 300 daily in June, and will overwhelm the system. I’ve not been out, but have learned from our county’s FB citizens page that, while measures are being taken by stores, people are still going about town as usual.
As you can see, I’ve been consumed with this, because I’ve needed to keep it at bay. I’ve also been consumed with worry about my loved ones. I no longer allow my twin sister to visit, other than in the yard, and well over six feet apart. She never gets out of her house except to come over here, but her partner goes out to stores and friends’ houses every day. I don’t think they’re being as cautious as they should be. And my mind sometimes wanders to the worst-case scenario that, if she gets sick, I won’t be able to be with her. I also worry about my other sister in the western panhandle, where there are more cases. My hair is literally falling out, and baldness doesn’t run in our family. I think it’s alopecia areata.
I’ve not been writing, other than tweets and posts that serve as my journal, of sorts. I’m still sifting through my parent’s estate, and my house is floor-to-ceiling full of furniture and boxes, even an extra refrigerator on the inside of my front door (theirs was bigger than mine, and I switched, but am waiting to sell mine until after the bug). I think that’s another reason for the hair loss. This clutter is driving me crazy! My mind easily wanders to all that needs to be done.
My saving grace through all this has been in keeping in touch with you all out there in the interwebs. Heather Webb had a funtastic Rear Window watch party on Twitter, and I’ve sent and received short videos to and from others. They help immensely.
And Netflix. Definitely Netflix. I’m too exhausted to read by nightfall.
Much love to you all.
Mike, I’m so glad to know about all of your cautions. There is no “too careful” for those lungs of yours. I’m sorry, though, for so much stress, and that sense of “undone” around you; that alone can make a person feel claustrophobic. But Netflix and Twitter watch parties, and Heather Webb any day of the week, will help a lot, right?
Sending love back to you. Stay well, and safe, my friend.
And you, Sean, and the kids, too. ❤️❤️❤️
Hi Therese, how thoughtful of you to ask after the writing community. Personally, as a retired senior, I am finding this time at home relaxing, peaceful and productive in unexpected ways. I’ve read more, I’ve had time to exercise and really watch my diet and accordingly have lost weight! I loved your take on chaos – The gift of chaos is in the ability to create a new order from its leavings – I know when we come out the other side that I will not go back to rushing here and there for no really good reason.
Victoria, what a positive note. Love it and hearing how you’ve made these changes work so well for your life. Brava!
I live on a tiny island off the coast of British Columbia. Self-isolation comes naturally. Brin Jackson is my neighbor, save for the drift of sea between us. Sadly, we’ve had to cancel our weekly writing sessions. It’s my birthday in three days, my hair is going gray (although, oddly, it suits me), and my cat thinks I sleep too much. She could be right.
The book I just published (Road Trip, if you’re interested) is gathering dust on the Amazon bookshelf. I have yet to hold a copy. While KDP is still running, its rate of production has slowed considerably. I might get a copy by May. Seems a little anti-climatic.
In the meantime, I write—or try to. I’m easily distracted at the best of times, but the level of distraction has been upped considerably, between my obsession with the news and worry for family and friends out of my reach. I’m working on the fourth—or is it fifth? —rewrite of a book I started six years ago. I’m also working on two humorous books—one is about a vampire seeking a cure for his condition. The other is “Misty Morgan’s Guide to Happiness in a Post-Apocalyptic World.” So far, there are more words in the title than in the text. I swear I started both long before the current real-world crisis.
I wish you all good health and a measure of productivity.
Perhaps we can come up with some sort of entertainment where you stand on your wharf and I at Brickyard Beach. Potato canon is already taken. If I knew how to build a trebuchet, I could lob designer cookies and delicacies to you!
I’m in! A drone would come in handy. Or a self-driven kayak. Or maybe a congenial sea lion. Can Roo swim? You could train him to deliver.
Roo might be cajoled to swim across if bribed with treats. Drone sounds like fun! Wonder how much hand/eye coordination is needed to fly one? :D
Oh, Heidi, HAPPY PRE-BIRTHDAY TO YOU, and congratulations on the publication of ROAD TRIP!
I love the sound of these works-in-progress of yours, and “Misty Morgan’s Guide to Happiness in a Post-Apocalyptic World” is a great title.
Stay safe, and write on as you are able.
p.s. Cats are never to be trusted.
Lurking in my mind is my neverending novel, but deadlines and circumstances pushed other projects front and center — a magazine column about the impact of covid on Scottish musicians, an online concerts series I put together, presenting 14 free online concerts in 14 days from 14 fiddlers of various styles, totaling over 1100 in attendance and many thousands raised in donation for the musicians, all of whom suddenly saw whole seasons of future gigs and income evaporate this past month. Today returning to a partially done project of turning a novella selfpublished in 2012 on Amazon into an ebook on Kindle; it involved time travel from the future back to 2018 when our country was to be run by a xenophobic right wing president, with reports from a future North America shaped by the desire to eliminate disease by controlling social contact (yes this was written in 2012, seems a bit timely now). Fortunately my daughter left a masters program in Germany after one semester and returned home not long before the pandemic began, and my son was ordered home by his college; my daughter engineered a 14-day quarantine for my wife and son because a dining hall employee at the college tested positive, lots of cooking and room service and sanitizing on our part, but that’s over; our older son is with his girlfriend across town and performed with my daughter and me in an online concert on Zoom as we swapped houses for different numbers or even different tunes! And the neverending novel lurks, and taps my shoulder often…
Edward, what a wonderful thing you did for your fellow fiddlers. As you know, Sean is in an Irish band, and they lost all gigs on and around their “high holy day” (St. Pat’s). Still, as sad as they were about that, they don’t rely on gig money as some do; some Irish musicians depend upon gigs in March to fund much of their expenses for the year. So I feel for your friends.
Wow, that novel. Talk about foretelling.
I’m glad your wip keeps tapping away at you. Write on, and play on, too.
So thoughtful, caring, and dedicated of you to invite our thoughts and to respond to each of us. I’ve been doing a lot of online work so this only accelerates it but it’s nice to have family home so much, even to organize chores and have occasional tensions. Dinners together is really nice. By contrast, Lilly’s friend Brooke lives alone, has asthma, and symptoms of coronavirus, and can only communicate by text with her circle of friends keeping her “close”. The air is pure outside. Disjointed times. Hello to Sean!
I hope that Brooke is well again soon, Edward. It’s good that she has friends like your Lilly to keep a virtual watch on her. Sean sends his regards back!
Hi Therese,
I’m in my mid-seventies with underlying asthma, so I’m being very careful. I still teach four writing classes through Santa Rosa Junior College to older adults, and I’m running those on Zoom. Although I’m not required to teach at this time, and I am being paid, I feel a responsibility to keep our older community connected. My students range from sixty to almost ninety-two.
I’m having difficulty writing. After ten days of lockdown, I did manage to squeak out a little work on my novel-in-progress, and I try every night. In a different time, I’d write 300-500 words a night. Now? Fifty to 150. I have no judgment about that; it simply is what is. I wish I could use this time more profitably.
I also write poetry, and that’s been dead until yesterday, when a short poem about the current experience came. I’m working on rewriting it now.
Some days, anxiety eats at me, other days, I’m fine.
Thank you for checking in with us. I treasure this site.
Best,
Skye
Thank you so much for asking.
Skye, I love, love, love that you’re working to keep your community of older writers connected — and zooming. I’m sure those writers appreciate your efforts very much.
And I’m glad to hear that you’re writing poetry even if the fiction feels harder right now. I’ve talked a bit about dissociation in another comment, but I feel like many of us must feel it a bit — just a step or two away from our reality, as a defense mechanism. Like we’re living in a dream. And so it makes sense in that context that the writing would be harder to reach, too, you know? That the poetry is coming for you is great .I’m glad you have a route back to the words.
I hope that you and your community of writers stay healthy.
This line you wrote: “We can see from our place in the eye of the storm just what’s most important to us, and recommit to making those things a priority”
I love that, Teri. And yes, that’s the gift this chaos brings us. I’ve been trying to focus on that and have been surprised by how many things/activities, large and small, we can do without during this time. Like you, I’m used to reading and writing at home, but it’s been a new thing to have my husband joining me here during the work day. That’s been both a relief (he’s home & safe) and a distraction (“What were you planning on making us for lunch?”). *insert eye roll*
I wish I could stop constantly worrying about everyone I care about who isn’t currently living with me…my parents, my brother, my son, other family and friends…and every human out there who’s battling this virus or trying to save us from it. But I worried about everything before this outbreak, and that was useless then, too. :) So, I’m still reading and writing and cooking at least a couple of meals every day. I’m as bad at meditation now as I was before, but I keep trying, LOL. And I’ve been walking outside when I can, listening to music, and thinking about this new normal & the days ahead.
Sending good thoughts for health & calm to you and to everyone here. Hang in there! xox
We are so alike, M — reading, writing, cooking, trying to meditate and not suck at it. And I’m laughing, laughing about the lunch comment. Though Sean made eggs for us both today, so I guess I am not complaining.
We are also both worrywarts, and I sure wish I knew how not to be like that.
Be well, my friend.
Thanks for asking Therese.
Let’s see.
I worry about my kids.
I worry about my wife.
I worry about my folks.
And about my lot in life.
Times, they are changing.
But name a time when that has not been true.
Things take some rearranging.
To discover what’s most important to you
—An original poem from a guy sitting on a tractor who’s typing on his phone.
This is beautiful. Times of trials can bring clarity.
God, family, writing–not much has changed for me–I hope to live well and die well.
God bless you and protect you and all yours.
Thanks Vijaya
Well done, James — or whomever it was you stole this poem from as they did your lawn.
C’mon, I only hire concert pianists to do my lawn. It’s quite a sight to see them balance a baby grand on a riding lawnmower. Can’t wait to buy an all-electric model so I can hear the music. :)
Ha! :-)
My daily routine is largely unaffected since I simply sit here every day and try to write. Although, knowing I’m at risk if I go out makes life feel different than all the years before when I simply sat here every day and tried to write.
I put a battery maintaining trickle charger on my car since it’s been sitting for weeks without being driven.
I have a feeling all of our batteries are going to need a charge after this is over, and I don’t mean just for our cars. Stay safe, Lester, and thanks for checking in.
Thanks Therese for asking!
I’m down in Mexico (which is running about 2 weeks behind the US in terms of virus news and progress) and I’ll admit it’s scary, and a bit lonely, to be self-isolating in a foreign country. I struggled to get back here from Europe and hubby and I still discuss every few days whether we are still safest here (so far the answer is yes, and I’m so grateful we are both here together!).
I’m taking the most comfort from helping run writers’ meet-ups and connecting online, both for Women’s Fiction Writers (WFWA), connecting with the 2020 debuts, and also I’m running a all genre writers support group on Thursday nights (ping me if interested in joining -all writers welcome).
It’s hard to get my head around the idea that my own debut novel will be coming out during this time (in just a few months now). To be honest the concept of self -promotion just feels weird and kinda wrong. I imagine I’ll work through it, but for now, supporting other writers is helping me take the most comfort and helps me feel more connected. Writing – not so much yet (although I am doing final proofing edits). Hoping to get back to book 2 draft soon.. but also allowing myself compassion – as folks say, it’s okay to not always be okay.
Hugs from south of the border, Lainey
Lainey, it’s great to hear that you’re doing so much to help writers now, especially for the debut novelists; I really feel for them, too.
Speaking of: TELL US ABOUT YOUR DEBUT. Really. Don’t be shy.
Be well down south.
Hi Therese. Thank you for this. I’m moderating a sub-group for Women’s Fiction Writers Association (“WFWA”) on Facebook called WFWA Wribbles (Writers who Scribble and sometimes Write) and posted something similar today. I’ll snip my post and insert it below. It was both confessional and an invitation to our group to share how they are doing. We’re going to open the group up to people who are in the larger writing community, with approval by an admin. There will be another place to come for some creative inspiration, and to share how this unprecedented event is affecting us. If you’re reading this, please find us and request permission to join. Or private message me on FB for an invitation.
I think we’re all getting a little stir-crazy and upset by now. It’s taken me longer than some because I’m working from home, and so have economic security (for now) and a regular M-F routine. But as of this past weekend, I started feeling low and frustrated and trapped. Family and friends are, at this point, well and safe. Some are recovering from moderate or mild cases of COVID-19. Others are simply being ultra careful. Sharing what we’re collectively experiencing can help, I think. At the very least, we’ll feel less isolated.
::snip::
Hi everyone. WARNING: THIS IS A LONG POST.
For those trying to keep track, today is Tuesday. I know this because I’m still working M-F, doing my normal job, but going to my home office instead of a high-rise office tower. I think, maybe, that it’s taken longer for the self-isolation to hit me because of that. I still have a lot of routine in my life. I’m still accountable to others for how I spend my time. And frankly, it’s been a relief to have my daily commute gone, and get three hours of my day given back to me.
But it’s starting to get to me. My husband and 24 year old daughter are both home. And furloughed from their jobs. Having difficulty filing for unemployment and BORED. Sure, they both have plenty to do, but they are still bored. When they are bored, they bicker (and fight) about current events. That’s hard to be around. But my usual go-to of running out to the store for an ingredient isn’t an option now. It may sound whiney, but sometimes it’s the little things that make you realize that you’re really getting a little frayed around the edges.
One thing that I am doing, and I know many of you are struggling with this, is writing. Every day, before I “go” to work by firing up my secured company laptop, I write for at least an hour. This is something that I really wasn’t able to discipline myself to do before. It’s hard to impose that discipline now, too, but easier than when I’m hustling to make a train, or so braindead at the end of the day that I can’t even mumble coherent sentences.
I’m one of the lucky ones, fortunate to have relative economic stability and time to do things I normally couldn’t do. But I know many of you feel very differently.
Today, if you can, tell me how it feels for you to be a creative person right now. Tell me the struggles that you’re facing. Maybe, there’s something in how you’re feeling that I struggle with on a “normal” day. Or maybe we can all feel a tiny bit better that no matter how fortunate we may be, we are all still struggling.
::endsnip:
Thank you for sharing!
I was just wrapping up final revisions to artwork on a book when we got the order to shelter in place. While working, everything seemed pretty normal except having my hubster working at home.
Now though, it feels tenuous. Working on ideas and drafts, and not knowing what the publishing landscape looks like now or what it might look like “after.” The excitement of working on something new is somewhat tempered with worry.
And as others have said, I’m wondering how to manage promoting my new books that publish next month.
I also miss people. Between music and writing dates, I spent a lot of time being creative with other people. I’m thinking Zoom chats would be good – but oh, my quarantine look might frighten my friends. :-)
Stay safe, writing community. Stay safe.
Janee, I hope you try zoom, it’s fun. I’ll be embracing hats. :-)
Please tell us about your upcoming book, and this artwork.
Be well!
Hi everyone,
I’m in Dallas, where we currently have about 1500 cases and 19 deaths, so it’s kind of scary out there. I don’t believe the numbers – we have very few tests here. I’m self-isolating and staying at home as much as possible – even getting groceries delivered now. Unfortunately. two of our dogs are sick at the moment, one with an easy to fix but annoying parasite, and the other with something the vet can’t figure out but appears to be cause for concern. Between them we’ve had about $700 in bills and six visits in the last few weeks!
My biggest worry is that two of the four members of our household have essential jobs. My husband works in the defense industry and his work is classified, so he can’t bring it home. The office is staggering shifts and he does wear a mask the whole time. More concerning is that my older daughter, who is desperately trying to save enough money to not have to take out college loans, just got a job at Target. That is, of course, essential, and they are understaffed right now. They pay very well and she’s just happy to still have a job. She’s out in public about 20 hours a week and this location is slow to roll out the masks and gloves. She’s young and healthy, but that is no guarantee she won’t get really sick, and she could bring it home to the rest of us. I’m having to go with the assumption that I have been exposed or will be, and adjust my behavior accordingly.
I’m also dearly wishing my parents, who live nearby, would get their groceries delivered instead of going to the store. They seem to think that they are fine being out so long as they try to keep their distance from people and they love to go out for drives, which means more times they have to fill up their tank.
At the moment we are all fine, though my mind so far has not been able to settle enough to write at all. I am reading a lot, and doing paint-by-numbers to try to relax. Watching The Office on Netflix. Trying to limit my time on social media and refusing outright to watch the briefings. I am also, though, enjoying the uninterrupted time with my teenage daughters, who are both stellar people that I am lucky to have in my life.
Are anyone’s elder parents taking precautions? My 90 year old father in law refuses to stay away from the grocery store even though a son could do the shopping. They are like teenagers!
My in-laws are the same, and my mother is hardly better. It’s such an absurd flip of the script, isn’t it?
Elaine – it is so frustrating. They are wearing masks and they are washing their hands. I doubt they sanitize their groceries or packages. They don’t hesitate to go out so long as they can keep their distance. They say they go crazy just sitting at home.
I love that you’re painting, Kim. Do what you have to do to take the edge of all that worry. I hope your family stays safe; I worry about you all down there.
Take good care.
Well, that makes us even, Therese. I worry about you and Sean up there!
It is so wonderful (wunderful?) to hear from all of you. Thanks, T, for providing a place to gather.
I am in the DC suburbs,(close to Keely and John Kelley) and work for an international organization – our work doesn’t stop. We are all working from home, and I find time is mushy (which day is it? how many work hours put in?) and the lines blur between work time and non-work time. Which laptop to open?
I am lucky that my immediate family is close by, but my parents are in their 80s, and I worry about them and being too isolated. One sibling is still going to her office – I dropped off a couple of homemade masks for her to use. We still spoke at an arms-length distance, standing by a 2020 white Ford Mustang in the showroom. I worry about my brother, who runs a small photography business, and how he will stay afloat.
More virtual sessions with writing friends -Yay Zoom. It’s so good to hear voices and to laugh together.
My writing stalled once we started self-isolating, but I am working to find ways to switch the work-brain off, so I can turn the creative brain on. It will surface, of that I am certain.
Be well, all!
It’s good to hear from you, Julie! I had never even heard of Zoom before a few weeks ago; it’s so strange how quickly things have changed.
It will surface, absolutely.
Sending good thoughts to you and your family. Be well.
Tupelo,MS. I get up at 3am after only 3 to 6 hours sleep, put on my scrubs, and report for my shift in the lab well before daybreak. Our Medical Center may not be as huge as those in New York but we take in most of the critical patients from the north eastern section of the state. Eating hospital food twice a day and grateful for it. Not a lot of writing getting done, but I do a lot of thinking.
Your work is so important to all of us, TR. Thank you for it. I imagine that you don’t have a lot of time to do much of anything for yourself, but I hope you’re taking as much care as you can. Stay safe, be well, and thank you for checking in here.
Thank you Therese, but more importantly, thanks to everyone respecting the shutdown which is saving more lives and suffering than you can imagine.
P.S. I am currently reading Moon Sisters and am absolutely loving it. On page 223.
Oh, you sweetheart. You made my day. Thank you. And YES, we’re all in this together, and it’s so important to shelter until it’s safe– for us, for you, for everyone.
Two years ago I retired and moved to rural Massachusetts. If I don’t go online, life is pretty normal. But I feel occasional panic. I’m older but healthy. Writing has helped. I finished a draft of my novel and intended to let it sit, but I feel better working on it. I’m almost afraid to finish it. It such a distraction.
Also just had 10 yards of compost and mulch delivered. That’ll keep me happy when it’s not raining. Being out here is such a joy. A chorus of barred owls last night. Birds returning. There is life within a pandemic.
I just don’t want to get it. I might isolate until there is a vaccine.
Elaine, I’m so glad you have your writing right now, and all that mulch, and your owl music — what a cool thing to imagine.
In fact, I just went to YouTube and found this, as I’ve never heard an owl chorus:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_ecLMZPxOA
Thanks for the smiles. Stay safe!
Cool video! To be able to see them! Thanks.
Social distancing can kick rocks despite how helpful people believe it is. I will comply because others are relying on the information given to us by those we trust or do we… Maybe only when it seems to suit a need or possibly calm a fear or two. Please forgive, I am always quite skeptical of the powers that be.
I’m never alone but often feel my individuality and mistake it for loneliness. This time there’s no denying the presence of lonesomeness. I knew I would miss being near people because relationships are everything to me, the intimate ones as well as the shallow. Virtual connection is a pale representation of the real thing, yet it’s better than oblivion. No lens distortion, I wanna see with my naked optic lens, hear the vibrations of a human’s voice box without filters, smell with that olfactory nerve, feel the synopsis telling me I’m touching and being touched, taste—umm-er-ah, yeah, okay, moving on.
Fuck technology, if it doesn’t lead me to humanity!
On the other hand, technology is helping me to ease the maintenance of my sanity. I will bend it toward humans and relationships, the things I treasure most in this world. The virtual world of gaming is one of those sources I use to brush against humanity. I am a lover first-person shooter games that provide online multi-player team base play where I can simulate connecting with others in order to achieve a goal. On the surface, the goal is to defeat the other teams, but for me, winning is based on how well we mesh during game play, which often result in victory or close to it. Then there is social media and other such things. The goals defers not, just a different stage and different obstacles to contend with.
Writing hasn’t changed much for me, and I feel no inspiration to write something different other than what I have planned, because it still connects to what’s going on presently.
I am okay, Mama Tee, even though the heaviness is more noticeable. It doesn’t bother me too much because I know why it’s there. It will not leave until I have that connection I so desire. It may remain in me forever, and that’s okay, too, if that’s my life’s outcome.
BB! Okay, I agree that social distancing can kick rocks; it’s harder than ever not to just be with people. And I’m sorry for the heaviness you’re feeling. (This is the wrong time to talk about how the heaviness I’m feeling over Girl Scout cookies, isn’t it? Yes. Yes, it is.) Technology can be such a great escape tool. My addiction? Churchill Solitaire. When I’m especially anxious, that’s my gig.
Here’s to better days, my friend, and soon. Be well!
I’m in southern Maryland. My wife and I are fortunate enough to have employers that have put their priority on their employee’s safety and gone to max telework. We’re stocked up and plan to ride out the peak on our property. I write; I putter in my shop; I work on house projects; I read; I ration the times I spend looking at the news; and, whenever I start to stress, I remind myself that this too shall pass.
Bill, that phrase–This too shall pass–has seen me through some hard days. I use it, too, and it truly helps.
Keep on keeping on!
What a wonderful idea, Therese! Since I’m late to my computer today, I got a chance to read about so many other WU members before posting and it’s heartwarming to realize that in spite of how far-flung we all are, we are a close community in this trying time.
Retired except for my writing, and living on a 124-acre ranch on the Cariboo Plateau in British Columbia, my lifestyle hasn’t changed much during the pandemic. We keep to ourselves mostly anyway, so a weekly trip for perishables and other groceries to the small town nearby feels normal. What’s not normal is going during the “over 55” shopping hours from 7-8 a.m., which gives those of us in the most vulnerable age range an opportunity to shop when the store’s been freshly cleaned and the shelves are reasonably well-stocked (except for toilet paper, of course).
Technically, it’s spring here, but at 3900 ft. elevation I still look out my office window at snow-covered fields. The Canada geese aren’t finding many grassy spots yet, no sign of deer in the hayfields and I think the odd robin who’s landed at the ranch has wisely moved on to lower elevations. Wolves and cougars are stalking calves on some of the local ranches, but so far the dogs and I have only seen fox, coyote and squirrel tracks on our walks, and the large hoof prints left in the snow by the occasional moose. Even the marmots who live under the barn haven’t made an appearance yet.
I have had trouble staying away from Twitter and sites like the John Hopkins and Worldometers COVID-19 updates, which I visit way too often during the day. I’ve been working on the 6th novel in my Highway Mysteries series in fits and starts. I’m still under 10K words, but also still in a planning and researching stage. My Lone Ranger-type detective is an ex-RCMP homicide investigator who has taken to the road as a long haul trucker. His world is set in the late 90’s, so it’s easy for me to get lost in researching a somehow more comforting time.
I’ve reduced the price of e-book editions of the first 3 novels by 80% for the duration of the pandemic so they’re more affordable for self-isolating readers. My monthly writing income will no doubt suffer, but perhaps I will have some new fans after this is over. I’ve upped my donations to the local food bank, but that’s been the limit of my heroism in the face of the virus.
I hope you and all of the WU writers and readers are able to stay safe and healthy during this challenging and perilous time.
If you have to be stuck somewhere during a pandemic, a 124-acre ranch populated with a huge amount of wildlife sounds like a good place to be. I’m glad you’re safe, Ruth, and that you’re writing despite the many pulls from the news. Great that the research puts you in a sunnier headspace.
It’s very thoughtful of you to contribute to the food bank and reduce the cost of your novels for hungry readers; I hope you do find new fans.
The toilet paper phenomenon is just crazy, isn’t it?
Take care of yourself!
You always have a beautiful way of connecting, and letting others know they are seen and they matter. It’s one of the things I love dearly about you.
My family is well. I have a lot peace for whatever the future brings. But there’s a swirl of emotional energy that’s all around right now – hope and fear, frustration and resignation. Angry voices, and consoling ones. The desire to help, to bring comfort, to uplift, to make someone laugh, to educate. Everyone is trying so hard. It’s a lot.
A “swirl of emotional energy” is a great way to put it, Denise. The air is so thick with adrenaline, you can practically see it. Love all the positive things people are doing with that energy.
Stay well!
Myself and five others have published a book together and it was due for a launch this very week. We have been organising, instead, a virtual launch here in Bondi. The book is about the benefits of writers’ groups: “Sharing Writing Skills”, Ginninderra Press, Sydney. This virus has brought out the best and the worst in people. Let’s focus on the positives, that I’m sure will reign hereafter, result of the world coming together to survive this negative occurrence.
Anne, your book sounds wonderful. I’m sorry the timing is off for in-person activities, but planning a virtual launch is the next best thing. Will you have a virtual book tour, too? All best to you, and congratulations on your achievement!
Chiming in from Evanston, just north of the Chicago border. My own pre-existing pattern was working from home, and I realize how accustomed I am to that, with several years of practice. I’m now sharing the space with my husband, who is working remotely and NOT used to working from home…we’re both introverts, but being here makes him pretty restless. And our apartment is fairly open plan, which makes it trickier to share space. I’ve moved into the bedroom for my sessions of focused work.
Now that we’re in week four of this routine, it’s beginning to become a proper routine again (at least for me), and that means my brain is regaining bandwidth for the story I am planning/outlining, thank goodness. I gave myself at least a week “off” to read and regroup, which is proving to have been a good strategy, but I’m still suspending research for now and just figuring out character/story bits. Ordinarily research would be a great fallback when I am less focused, but um…I was researching the Great Depression. Felt a bit on the nose.
So far I’m finding this story is still the one to write, and I don’t want to change the time period. What I sense at this point–pre-first draft–is that my interest in writing a story with some lighter moments and humor to balance the darker bits is still there. I may lean first into the lighter moments, if I can, and worry about the balance later. The more I get into the story, the more I think it can be an escape from the news…and really, that’s what I would want to offer readers as well.
I’m working on being content with setting a lower bar–versus trying to be ambitious and frustrating myself or adding to all the anxiety. “Enough” seems to be the key word right now! (That means enough work, but also enough reading the news, and enough worrying about things I can’t control…)
So good to check in with everyone here! :-)
Great to hear from you, Alisha! Completely understandable to want to wait on research about The Great Depression right now. And I love your new mantra — “Enough.” I think that might become mine, too.
Continued good luck to you as you adjust to your new routine, and make headway with your wip, which sounds like more than “Enough” to me.
Take care.
Things are surprisingly good here. Everyone in my family is healthy, and the virus, so far, has mostly spared the rural area where I live. Very few cases here, but we’re all practicing social distancing, because we know that could change if we’re not careful. My husband and I have worked from home for the past few years, so that’s been largely unaffected. Our two teenagers are holding up well—they have a good attitude about everything, though they’re bored.
While things in my own household are fairly serene, it’s hard not to become preoccupied worrying about the world: the lives lost, the mess of our federal government, and the coming economic catastrophe. I have to practice living in the moment and reminding myself that it’s not helpful to obsess over things I can’t change. Things will go how they’re going to go, and I’ll deal with it when we get there.
I’m still writing daily, still trying to keep my publishing goals on track. I write happy stories, and I figure we need those now. At least, I do.
Three cheers for happy stories, indeed, Linda. I’m sure your readership will grow for the escapism you provide them.
I’m glad to hear that you and yours are safe and sound, if occasionally bored.
Stay well, friend.
Southwest Boston Suburb. How am I doing? This is a good question. It’s not easy to answer. After almost dying at the beginning of March from what may or may not have been COVID-19, I’ve been in a kind of altered state. I’m shook, still processing… and still sick. Today, a reprieve. For the first time in 5 weeks, I felt well enough to do a little work on my manuscript. A little, a bisele, of anything at all, is how much I can handle as I try to rebuild my strength, health, and endurance. The small steps I navigate are filled with gratitude and wonder. I’m still here. I almost wasn’t. I try not to trip on this shroud floating around me, or let it blind me. Sometimes I gather it close and hold on. I can’t yet gather the strength for full-throated expression. I keep finding myself wandering mind paths, the ones I thought I’d be exploring when I was older and maybe a little less scared of the dark. Yes, here I am again in this darkness, I keep bumping into myself, me at my core, ill-equipped to shine my light and express the breadth and depth of my love.
Melissa, I am alarmed to hear about your health crisis! I’m so sorry that you’ve gone through something that sounds both transforming and ongoing. Sending loads of healthy thoughts your way, friend. We’re here for you.
So sorry to hear this, I hope the recovery continues. I remember my mother radically changing her life after she nearly died in a vehicle accident. Is it having that effect on you?
Thank you so so much for posting this Therese, and for all the other responses. So healing to feel this sense of connection.
I am in Calgary Canada. Really, in many ways my life is still the same, except is home – all the time! Nice to have time together and also nice when he has Zoom meetings in the other room and I have my quiet space alone again.
I struggle a bit with sort of pre-survivor guilt, knowing others are struggling so much.
The novel I am working on needs to turn in a lighter direction. I can’t bring myself to focus on dark issues right now. I’ve been pondering some plot holes and almost got the threads sorted so that feels good. I hope to release a book of illustrated poems, but it takes a long time to get a paper proof right now, so just being patient (not easy for a hot blooded Aries!)
Blessings to you all
It’s good to hear from you, Cassandra, and I’m glad you’re well and working on multiple projects. Your book of illustrated poems sounds so interesting! I hope you’ll share that when it’s finished.
Stay well–and don’t feel the least bit guilty for being well. We’re glad that you are!
Hi everyone! Checking in from the Netherlands, practising “intelligent lockdown”, as they call it. Everyone is to stay home as much as possible, but shops are (mostly) open. Going out for shopping or getting some fresh air is allowed, but not in groups (only if they are living in the same household). Everyone is trying to keep a distance of 1.5 meters.
It is not exactly easy for me to suddenly have all my three men (husband + 2 teenage boys) at home the whole day. The introvert part of me sighs and grumbles a lot.
Not so much writing these days.
BUT.
We are all healthy.
We have food, we have a house plus garden.
The sun is shining, spring is here.
Everyone close to me is healthy.
So really, we are lucky. We are blessed. When I think of others who are not as fortunate, my sighs and grumbles dissolve very quickly.
Sending out loads of good wishes over the Atlantic!
(And every bit of writing counts as a tiny victory, right?)
Hi J, thank you for reporting in from the Netherlands! I’m so glad to hear that everything is going well there, and that a different approach seems to be working. Perhaps when cases are more under control here, we can move to that model. Are you all wearing masks?
I hope you’re able to carve out some writing time despite all those…guys. :-D Take good care of yourself.
Hi Therese, to answer your question: no, only a few people wear masks, and it is not officially recommended yet. The reason is rather practical: there are not a lot of masks around, and they are needed by medical staff and people caring for the elderly etc. Also one point is that if people wear masks, they might think they are protected and get careless with hand washing and distancing. But a lot of countries around us are gradually moving towards recommending or even make them mandatory in shops, public transport etc. So my guess is it will come here too.
The good news is that the numbers are going the right direction: less people get hospitalised, less people are dying, we have enough IC beds at the moment… So we are all crossing our fingers and hope we are on the right way!
Take care, stay safe!
I hope your good news keeps coming, J. Stay safe!
Hello from Albany, NY! I’ve been home starting Friday, March 13 (how fitting!), and so far I’m hanging in there. My spouse is teaching his university courses and collaborating with other researchers online, and so far we’ve gotten by on 2 grocery deliveries and one curbside pickup today (which I confess I was still very nervous about).
I miss my communities. I miss the bar I was a regular at (and used to write at) and everyone who works there, and I am worried about all of them. I’m glad I can venmo tips to my bartender friends if I make a cocktail at home, but I miss their in-person selves fiercely.
So far two spring writing retreats I was looking forward to like sun on a gloomy day have been cancelled, and I am certain a third in June will be soon.
From years and years of constant moving, I’m used to being at home all the time and having most of my social opportunities limited to those online, but honestly, it’s never been that great for me emotionally, and this is very hard. I feel small and lost on Facebook and other platforms, like my voice isn’t worthy of attention when so many others have louder needs and voices, or are being more entertaining than I can muster. Like other times I’ve been dependent on online spaces for social interactions, I’ve found myself eventually retreating more and more into solitude offline. I’m lucky that I do enjoy my spouse’s company a lot, and that we have enough space in our new place not to get on each other’s nerves so far.
I am so freaking grateful for my screen porch these days.
I’ve been struggling with writing since last summer, and now am left with conflicting impulses regarding my WIP–speculative fiction–and its themes of catastrophe and the depredations of brutal inequality. While those themes make the project feel more urgent than ever to me, it’s very hard right now and sit down and create the run-up to fictional apocalyptic events, when it feels like more and worse is happening outside my door–my fictional apocalypse feels suddenly too hard to immerse myself in and not nearly bad enough, simultaneously!
I knit. I read. I cook. I meditate. I ride the exercise bike. Life goes on. Someday the words will come back.
Thanks for reaching out, Therese.
Hello, fellow upstater! Great to hear from you, Marianna!
I really appreciate how much you’ve shared here about your process and how hard it’s been right now to connect with an apocalyptic story. And I hear you about nervousness about even curbside pickups. We did our first yesterday, when three local restaurants came together to put on an epic dinner-in-a-bag. And drinks. So. Many. Drinks. We’ll be drinking those drinks for another few days, at least. At least upstate has its priorities in order. ;-)
Sending tips from home for drinks you are making yourself is both creative and incredibly considerate. You are kind.
I love that you have your porch and feel good about being there when everything else feels overwhelming. I have something similar with our back deck, and its dozen feeders, and all our neighborhood birds. It’s okay, I think, to go inward when we have to, and digest the outside world as we can. The writing will be there when you’re ready to come back, I’m sure.
You take good care of yourself.
Dear Therese. I am a week late responding so you may not see it. I am well and fortunate but not writing. We traveled from Iowa to Kansas with daughter and her family for spring. Break. That was 5 weeks ago. My sil from the Netherlands had her flight back home cancelled so she is still here. We are fortunate because we are on a farm with wide open spaces. While here we have celebrated 3 birthdays- 102 ( fil) 11(grandson) and one other. I feel a bit guilty that I should be out there on the front lines.
My introverted side is a little wonky. I must avoid the news to a point. Or I get too overwhelmed. There is much I could share about my thoughts but you have heard it all.
Do you remember I told you at the book signing that “I see you”. It was your tender concern for everyone like now that I saw. Your heart is so beautiful. Take care of it.
It’s great to hear from you, Becky! What a gift to have a big open space to be secluded with your family–including your 102-year-old father-in-law. I’m glad you’re all well. Knowing you, you’ll find a way to touch people even from your safe place, and so I hope you don’t feel the least bit guilty.
As a fellow human who also finds herself easily overwhelmed with the news, I hope you continue to do what you must to protect yourself.
And, of course, I do remember that moment, and treasure it. Thank you for your kindness and concern. You take care of yourself, too, my friend.
I want to know how you are.
Personally, good: my ideal apocalypse is the one where I’m forced to stay in and read and write. Corporately, NYC is suffering pretty hard.
Where you are.
Brooklyn, NY. Stuck inside with a T1 bride who cannot leave due to immo compromised status.
What you’re doing.
Right now? Commenting. This morning? Writing on my thesis. Last night? Reading Dark Tower 5, Aeschylus. This week? Working on the launch of my debut novel. Watching some shows with Tara and reading more than normal. Averaging 10k words a week.
How things are different.
NYC is a ghost town. Neighbors and artists are sick and dying.
How things are the same.
WriterUnboxed, still going strong. Still advocating for artists. Still loving neighbors. Still writing and reading.
If what you’re writing has changed.
I did not expect to write a dissertation, but that’s what’s coming out. Also did a transmedia commission for a journal — three separate stories.
If you feel inspired to write something else.
Oh yes. Horror novella featuring starvation and illness with mixed nurse protagonist is all the more relevant. Alaska + Ohio small town stories are relevant again.
I want to know that you’re okay.
All told, yes. Lots of grief.
I want you to know that you’re not alone.
Thanks. Miss you guys — hope to go to next UnCon if the launch goes well.