An Unexpected Gift from Covid
By Keith Cronin | February 3, 2022 |
As we come up on the two-year anniversary of our lives being changed forever by the Covid-19 pandemic, it’s easy to think about everything we have lost. And I know I am not alone in being sorely disappointed in the failures of our governments, our health agencies, and society at large in not adopting any sort of consistent or universal approach to combating this deadly scourge. But even though I’m admittedly a glass-half-empty kind of guy, I can’t help but notice one ongoing behavioral shift that I attribute primarily to the pandemic, which I believe is both relevant and even beneficial to us as writers:
The increased power of the written word.
I really do believe that writing has become more important than ever. And this is particularly interesting to me, since for more than 20 years I’ve been earning my living as a writer in the corporate world.
The biggest surprise I encountered when I first entered white-collar life was that most people apparently do NOT like to write. Many of them find it hard, unpleasant or flat-out frustrating. And to me an even bigger surprise was to find smart, educated people who were extremely articulate and effective speakers, yet could barely write an intelligible sentence.
Having been raised by a pair of journalists, I grew up thinking that writing and speaking were essentially two sides of the same coin, since in my household we were expected to be able to express ourselves in writing just as well as via the spoken word. I had no idea that this was not the case for most families. In working with my new colleagues and clients in the corporate world, I soon learned that just because somebody was an eloquent speaker, it did not necessarily mean they were able to capture that same eloquence when they wrote.
The good thing was: Because so many people hated to write, I could earn a nice living, because – wait for it – they would pay ME to write for them! Who knew? Seriously – this was a major revelation to me, and has been the secret to my staying gainfully employed for the past couple of decades. But that revelation is why I also find this new Covid-era trend so surprising. I mean, if people don’t like to write, why are they doing it so much? I have some thoughts on this.
But before I go on to defend my hypothesis, I want to acknowledge that I’ve seen numerous posts on this site over the past couple of years about how some of us are NOT writing. Posters and commenters alike have expressed how they’ve felt blocked, disinclined to write, unable to concentrate on artistic endeavors in light of all that’s going on around us, and so on. But while some of us may have found our creative writing efforts hampered or even shut down by the sheer emotional and psychological weight of these turbulent times, I wouldn’t be surprised if many of us have actually been doing more writing than ever. Think about it:
- During the initial lockdown phases, many of us became far more active on social media than ever before, using it as a substitute for socializing in person. And although some of us might be big Instagrammers or Youtubers, the majority of what most people post – and thus, the majority of how we are interacting with others online – is in writing.
- Many of us with office jobs found ourselves being steered to use email and chat apps even more to communicate (in addition to the dreaded Zoom calls that now pervade corporate life), since face-to-face conversations and “office water-cooler talk” may no longer be a part of the typical workday.
- Given how non-private most social media participation is, many of us are corresponding privately with friends and colleagues via email or texting. Which leads me to my final item on this list, and something I find both surprising and interesting:
- Texting has become more popular than phone-calling, for reasons I won’t claim to understand. The meme below seems to sum up the current thinking…
Friendship in the age of Covid
I’ve written before about how the internet makes us rely far more on writing for communication, and also of the value – and the “realness” – of relationships that are mostly (or even entirely) virtual. To me, Covid has made this truer than ever. I’m definitely seeing it in my personal life. I’ve become much closer to several of my online writing friends over the past couple of years, and it has enriched my life enormously (and I hope it is doing at least a little to enrich theirs as well). These are people I’ve only seen face-to-face a few times in my life at literary events or conferences (remember those?), but whose friendships are every bit as valuable and real to me as those I have with people whom I see (correction: used to see) more regularly.
I was raised to keep my problems to myself, and it is VERY hard for me to share the not-so-great experiences and feelings I have with other people – even with ones I trust and care about. But I’m finding that conveying those feelings in writing is somehow easier for me, perhaps because there’s something more… controlled about the experience (first and foremost, being able to edit and delete are BEAUTIFUL things indeed). So in the past two years I’ve shared things via email with a few select friends that I have never shared before, and found that it really opened up the conversations – and ultimately, the relationships – between us. Similarly, a few of my friends have shared some deeply personal insights and experiences with me that took me completely by surprise, and humbled me with the trust and respect those revelations demonstrated. Folks, this writing stuff is freaking powerful.
Another example of a friendship that blossomed during the pandemic is one I have with a woman who actually does live nearby, whom I used to see at a weekly community function we both attended before Covid shut everything down. Over the past couple of years, we have built a really strong friendship, even comforting and supporting each other during some life-changing challenges we’ve each encountered. Yet we haven’t spoken even once during that time – we just communicate via chat or email. At one point during a crisis she was dealing with, I suggested that she might find more tangible and useful support from her “real life” friends, rather than from this guy she hadn’t actually seen or talked to in two years. She came back with a response (quoted with her permission) that truly warmed my heart:
“I actually think our friendship is just as strong, if not stronger, than many of my other ones because mostly what we have is words. Words matter to me, and I know they matter to you. The actual contact is less important to me than the honesty of the written word.”
Her reply really hit home with me. Again, I grew up in a household that treated the written word as something both powerful and sacred. But I’ve also managed to figure out from repeated experience that I take some stuff WAY more seriously than, well, most normal people, so it was a very validating thing to find somebody else attributing so much power and significance to words expressed in writing.
I’ve been one poor correspondent…
(Extra points for those who can source that reference without Googling.) Along these same lines, something that’s happening to me, which I hope is also happening to other, is this: a renewed focus on actual written correspondence. In using that rather formal C-word, I’m talking about more than casual chats or text messages – I’m talking about writing actual letters (well, okay, letter-length emails, but still…) to each other. Letter-writing really seems to be a lost art, and I think that’s a shame. No, I’m not proposing a shift back to “snail mail,” but I will say: Back when it was sometimes your ONLY mode of communication, letters could be amazingly powerful communication vehicles.
I really experienced that most tangibly when I finished college, and took a job playing drums on a Caribbean cruise ship. This was in the early ‘80s, long before cellphones, and ship-to-shore radio was something only used in an emergency. So my entire connection to the rest of the world boiled down to letters, which we would pick up once a week when our ship docked in Miami. While I would never liken life as a crewmember on a cruise ship to being in the military, the weekly mail call probably was somewhat similar, offering a lifeline to a world that felt VERY far away. I wrote to my family each week, and frequently to other friends from college. My mom was really good about writing. My dad, not so much. But the back-and-forth of our letters helped me feel connected, and forged a powerful emotional memory that to this day I hold dear.
A postcard from the past…
When I write “serious” emails to my friends these days, I recall that reverence, and try to apply it to how I communicate. I’ll admit that I draft these letters in a word processor, and then edit them rigorously before finally pasting them into an email program and sending them. Overly anal? Perhaps. But the emotional depth of the correspondence I’ve been involved in – particularly in the past couple of years – convinces me that the extra effort is worth it.
Am I sounding too old-school? Are you thinking, “Okay, boomer” right about now?
Fair enough, but we’re writers, right? So I ask you to consider the fact that not so long ago, some pretty damn good writers wrote letters to people they cared about that were later considered worth publishing as a book.
Consider this list of letter-writers whose personal correspondence you can now order on Amazon: Virginia Woolf, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Flannery O’Connor, P.G. Wodehouse, Anne Sexton, George Orwell, Emily Dickinson, John Steinbeck, Audre Lorde and Pat Parker, Ernest Hemingway, Sylvia Plath, Kurt Vonnegut, and Anaïs Nin and Henry Miller, among others.
Pro tip: That last one is a doozy. Think you know how to write a love letter? Pick up a copy of A Literate Passion, and think again. You’re welcome.
With letter-writing an almost nonexistent art form these days, you have to wonder: Is there any modern equivalent? Will somebody eventually want to publish “The Facebook Chats of KeithWriter” or “The Greatest Tweets of @KC_Godzilla_fan?” Frankly, I’m not optimistic. But hey, there’s no quit in me, so I’m gonna keep writing email “letters” as long as there are people who want to receive them from me.
Feeding the Netflix beast
I’ve already mentioned how I’ve seen various members of the WU community lament their lack of writing during Covid. But it’s clear that SOMEBODY is still writing, given the ever-growing glut of new shows appearing on the various streaming services that have been playing such a major role in keeping us sane – or at least, entertained – during the Pandemic That Will Not End. I mean, who can say we don’t live in a golden age of storytelling, when we’re presented with titles like this one?
Truth be told, I feel like this title still needs a train and a tattoo if it really wants to check off ALL the buzzword boxes, but I could be guilty of Monday-morning quarterbacking. Oh, and major kudos to WU rockstar Mike Swift for making me aware of this titular gem.
Bottom line, there’s possibly a greater appetite for storytelling right NOW than ever before in our lifetimes. And like I said: We’re writers, right? So this seems like a definite call to action for us all.
To mangle Mr. Dickens: This is definitely not the best of times. And sadly, it may not yet be the worst of times. But one message I’m getting loud and clear is: It’s definitely time to write!
How about you?
When you think about it, is writing playing a bigger role than ever in your life? If so, please share some examples. Or do you reject the premise? If so, please tell us why. Thanks for reading, and please stay safe. And if you still have a mother, write her a damn letter already.
Author of the novels Me Again (originally published by Five Star/Gale), and Tony Partly Cloudy (published under his pen name Nick Rollins), Keith Cronin (he/him) is a corporate speechwriter and professional rock drummer who has performed and recorded with artists including Bruce Springsteen, Clarence Clemons, and Pat Travers. Keith’s fiction has appeared in Carve Magazine, Amarillo Bay, The Scruffy Dog Review, Zinos, and a University of Phoenix management course. A native of South Florida, Keith spends his free time serenading local ducks and alligators with his ukulele.
Too many shows on all the streaming services. They strive for emotional depth but lose relevance. Maybe it’s my age but I’m not interested in morally justified serial killers or morally justified drug manufacturers. Today’s dramas are filled with mitigating circumstances that excuse/condone criminal behaviors. I get that it’s fiction, but with our current overburdened judicial system and reduced law enforcement personnel real crime is spiking all around the country. Having said that, the only fiction I find satisfying right now are detective/police stories where the bad guy gets caught and goes to prison. Although I do like “Homicide Hunter” on Discovery. Detective Joe Kenda rocks.
Karen, I hear ya.
Seems like there’s an awful lot of emphasis on “how dark can we get?” in current programming trends. While that’s no doubt a reflection of the darkness we see so much of in real life, I suspect it also fuels the glut of superhero stories we’re seeing – proof that we still want to believe there’s a way to conquer all this bad stuff.
Thanks for chiming in!
I am right there with you. Different life situatiins, different writing, but yes, a flourishing of words that capture bits if the world, important and connecting texts, difficult but non-offensive emails…strengths I’d gradually become aware of of a decade or more, but ones that have flourished in these harder times, supporting resilience and persistence along the way.
Carol, I REALLY like the idea of “strengths that flourish in these harder times.” Here’s to all of us experiencing that!
This was such a resonating post! Thank you so much for this. And I do believe that relationships and friendships mostly or exclusively maintained over words/text/s emails are real, honest, and has saved my life during the past two years.
Thanks, Rheea, and wow – that last sentence is a damn powerful statement.
Nice to find somebody else who feels such power in words.
I have always done a lot of writing (I prefer text and email over phone calls for sure), but I have noticed other people in our industry ‘writing’ a lot more via Customer Service tickets, emails, newsletters, etc., all pandemic-encouraged, I’m sure.
One thing I will add is that I am the opposite of some of the folks you mention – I can write pretty articulately, but when it comes to speaking I’m often mumbling something akin to Rain Man. I’d much rather write it out and have someone read it, mainly because I can’t stop for coffee or re-state one thing verbally ten different ways before deciding on which version to use in a live conversation, lol. (I just had to end with a text term).
Todd, you raise a great point: for many writers, the written word provides us a safe haven from having to actually, you know, speak to people.
Even as much of a loudmouth as I am, I feel the same way, and often prefer both the comfort and the editability (hey, it might be a word) of writing.
Wow. I hadn’t thought about it before, but you’re right about crafting longer & more in-depth emails and texts the last couple of years. Your adventures in the corporate world made me laugh. In my day job as an engineer, I was a unicorn: an engineer who could actually write (and engineers have to do a lot of writing, believe it or not). As a result I was often given the additional task of reviewing other engineers’ documents before they went to the customer, rewrite a 60-page proposal to give it a single voice, etc. I emerged with enhanced editing skills and an ability to view even my own writing from the reader’s POV (from explaining all those tech details to non-techies). And you’re so right about a greater appetite for storytelling these days, though I’ll pass on that Netflix film. Thank you for a bit of sunshine on a rainy day.
Barbara, I loved hearing about your experience as a “unicorn.” I actually got my start in technical writing, so I often encountered exactly what you described: brilliant technologist who couldn’t write their way out of a paper bag.
That job really helped me, as it called on me to translate the highly technical information these engineers would provide me, and translate them into clear, simple and actionable language for the lay reader – definitely a handy skill in ANY kind of storytelling!
Another brilliant post, Keith — thank you. I’m not sure if writing has deepened in importance for me over the last few years, but it has always been a lifeline during hard times. Being able to lose myself in a world I create is the definition of escaping. I do miss getting actual mail though. For a long time, a good friend from college and I exchanged actual snail mail missives, complete with pretty stamps and beautiful paper. Eventually we pared it back to art postcards, and then stopped. Even though we still text almost every day, it might be time to bring back the tradition. (I still get a spark of hope when I open the mailbox every day, even though it’s always bills and advertisements…)
Thanks, Liz!
What a lovely tradition you and your college friend had. And I think you’re right: it’s time to bring it back!
“–And I’m too too far behind, but it doesn’t mean you ain’t been on my mind.”
And people *are* on each others’ minds, and all that changes is the ways we can reach out. And some of those don’t truly change at all.
Amen to that, Ken. Amen!
Dear Keith,
Your post inspired such a “Eureka!” moment that I had to write you a letter to share it with you: I just realized we have the same initials!!
On a deeper, more personally revealing note, my husband wants to revisit his musical roots and get a drum set. We live in a townhome. Should I just divorce him or what?
I look forward to our continued correspondence,
Kathryn
Hey there, KC!
I have bad news and good news. Let’s start with the bad: Townhome + drums = eviction. Or at least it used to. Now for the good news…
Electronic drums can be very satisfying to play, and all the noise – er, I mean music – is contained in your husband’s headphones.
So I think you’re looking at either some electronic drums, or go ahead and file those divorce papers! :)
Hey Keith, My wife actually saved a series of letters I wrote to her back in the mid-eighties. I had graduated a year before her and moved away. Not to credit my 20-something writing skillz, but I’m sure they were a big part of what kept us together. So in essence, writing letters ensured the very best that’s happened to my life since.
I also have a treasured series of emailed letters with my eldest sister, who’s passed away since. She was the first person (besides my wife) to read my fiction. Our relationship had grown a bit distant until then. This was before smart phones, we lived an hour’s drive from each other, and she only had email at her job (a hospital administrator). So we fell into emailing on a weekly basis or so as she read through the trilogy. She was so encouraging and helpful. It made us much closer during the final years of her life. Rereading them just fills my heart right up.
I agree with your premise. I think I’m writing more, and I believe it makes us closer. (As an aside, I saw an interview with Kristin Bell, who stars in, produces, and helped create the Netflix show in question, and the title was VERY tongue-in-cheek. Netflix tried to put the kibosh on it, and she made keeping it a deal breaker.)
Thanks for always going deep (utilizing the written word) here, Keith! The thought and effort are definitely much appreciated by…
Yours Truly,
Vaughn
I used to write doozies to my parents from college that were so thick, they needed extra postage. I wish I’d come across them and my mom’s replies. She and I both held onto letters, but who knows what survived in one move after another. Maybe they’ll be revealed as I sift through boxes of their estate. Dad never was much on writing. Mom would always add, “Dad sends his love, too.”
And it was precisely the title that drew me into watching that series, so I’m glad Kristen stood her ground.
Thanks, Vaughn!
Sooooooo, the TL;DR version of your reply: Chicks dig letters.
Folks, he’s not wrong. :)
LOVE the additional insight into The Netflix Title That Never Ever Ends, Ever!
Keith, what a relevant post and observation of our current situation, and how we, as writers, can best use it to our advantage. Admittedly, my once unshakable stance of text messages with perfect grammar and complete, punctuated sentences have gone by the wayside with, “Nuttin much… wyd?” Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
It was due to email correspondence that a friend first suggested I become a writer. I used to spend hours documenting my days to her, writing in such a way that she didn’t lose interest and fall asleep midway. I’d initially vomit my words onto the page, then take my time editing them into a delicious feast to be eaten and enjoyed… um, you know… again.
Over Christmas, my niece was watching Dickinson streaming on Apple TV, and I was fortunate enough to catch a few episodes of the last season. For me, it recaptured the beauty, elegance, and eloquence that has long been missing in my writing, and made me think, Crap! Now I have to subscribe to yet another streaming service. (I also need to run to the library and check out a book on Dickinson’s poems.)
Thanks for the reminder that we can hone our skills in the everyday writing we do, and not only our “professional” endeavors.
— The Writer in the Chair with his Laptop on the Tray reading Keith’s Essay.
Thanks, Mike. I’ve remained fairly strong in avoiding textspeak, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been strong AF, if u know what I mean.
I love hearing stories of what inspired people to start writing, and yours is a definite keeper!
But now I can’t decide what to watch next: Dickinson, or the Woman Who Ate A Sandwich While Listening To The Radio While Watching The Girl In The Window Of The Taxi In The Photo On The Billboard On The Side Of The Train.
Great post, Keith. Early on I was a letter writer, both brothers moving out of the Midwest and I always having much to say. Raising my children, I wrote short stories, which I sent to McCalls– so many that the editor and I were on a first name basis. But she never said yes, though I did get published in little and literary. Writing was an escape from laundry and cooking. I also kept up with friends who moved away–then I moved away and there was email. I have saved most of my work, still hoping for a bigger leap to publication. But writing is often so personal, compelling, a revelation. I recently finally decided to read a short diary that my mother had written. I thought it was about a trip to Europe. No, it was about a love she had for a man before my father. Writing–it’s precious.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I so agree about what in intimate and personal revelation writing can be.
The story of your mothers’ diary really hit home with me. My mom started to keep a journal shortly before she died, but her will asked that we destroy the notebooks without reading them. I couldn’t bring myself to do that, but I’ve also never brought myself to read them. Decisions, decisions….
Keith, good essay. I’ve been writing letters since early childhood thanks to a fractured family and it’s a habit that remains, though much of my correspondence is through email now with close family and friends. Sometimes I think it’s the most important writing I do, for that special audience of one. And it’s so wonderful when you finally meet a good friend you’ve known for years through letters.
During the pandemic, I sent out more mail, cards and newspaper clips and letters. I treasure the hundreds of letters my husband and I wrote during our very long courtship (10 yrs). Even after we were married and living together, we wrote to each other daily via email. Writing is really a wonderful gift, the means to clarifying what we’re thinking and for connecting with others far away. It’s the next best thing to being with the person. That takes primacy because we are physical beings and need those hugs and kisses.
I love – and agree with – all those sentiments you shared, Vijaya. Thank you.
IF I ever become famous, there will be a book about The writing of Pride’s Children – the emails back and forth over each chapter. Since my damaged brain has forced me to work linearly, one complete scene at a time, as each chapter is complete – scenes, title, epigraphs in the beginning – it goes to my lovely beta reader. She responds when she’s had time to read each chapter several times (imagine what a gift that is!), and we may go back and forth about intent and execution several times before I incorporate her several suggestions or defend my choices and keep them.
We started this back with the first chapter in the first volume, and are up to chapter 35 (the volumes are numbered sequentially, it being a single story). Each volume has 20 chapters, and Chapter 40 will be what I hope is the explosive end of Book 2. There are some amazing nuggets in there – I think they’d make an interesting read for the right kind of fan.
The writing ABOUT the writing has been a serious pleasure – we go back to at least 2013. Interspersed is a lot about life.
Wow, Alicia – what a fascinating way to build a book, and I am always a sucker for learning about how a movie or story I like was created. So I could see some people wanting to read those emails behind your book.
Good luck with what sounds like an amazing labor of love!
Hey Keith:
Isabel Allende made much the same argument that you have here, saying that the pandemic had the unexpected benefit of giving her “more time, silence and solitude to write.” Here’s a link to the BBC article where she explains: https://www.bbc.com/news/business-60200132
As for me, I can’t count the times I or my wife have said, “I don’t know how I could have gotten through this without you.” I know some couples have had trouble, but our marriage is stronger than ever,
Good to hear you’re doing well. Now go fill up the other half of the glass.
Thanks, David. Like you, I’ve been incredibly lucky in being able to face these bizarre times with an amazing partner. That’s something to NEVER take for granted.
Now, where did I put that glass?
Great post, Keith!
Since I edit manuscripts for a living, covid has made for a nice client list. That said, my personal struggle has been a lack of focus. It’s hard to stay focused when the world is falling apart around you. I’m Canadian, an Ontario resident at that. We’ve seen a harsh two years, and not just the virus. While writing and editing have been my escape, I’ve often wished I could stay in the moment.
Your post gives me hope, Keith. And I have no doubt that hope is riddled with words.
Hugs
Dee
Oh, Dee – I so hear on you the lack-of-focus issue. I struggle with that myself, bigtime. And I’ve written VERY little fiction during all this – the uptick in my writing has mostly been the increased quantity – and depth – of how I’ve communicated with those I care about.
Hang on to the hope that words provide!
I just wanted to say how much I always enjoy your posts. This is a gentle, thoughtful gem. Thank you.
“I’ve been one poor correspondent…” America’s “Sister Golden Hair”, 1975.
As a technical writer in my professional (read: paid) life, I know that composing verbiage isn’t a strong suit for many of the people I work with on a daily basis – mainly engineers and software programmers. Their literary mindset is relegated to binary codes and Visio diagrams. Asking them to explain what they mean in a coherent written form is like asking a priest or a feminist to admit they actually like sex. They really can’t do it. Writing IS tough. Like Amy Joy said, “Anyone who says writing is easy isn’t doing it right.”
Thanks for bringing this up. In fact, I myself was amazed that thanks to the pandemic, many people have had problems writing messages, for example. But as a person who now works from home, I can say that to some extent my moral health has improved and I began to feel much more collected. But I still don’t like Zoom calls. It takes too much energy from me. I vote for the letter.