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In the show Hamilton there is a heartbreaking song immediately followed by Jefferson saying, “Can we get back to politics?” I feel like that now–with all hell breaking lose I need the refuge of my imagination. If only for a few hours a day. How about you? Are you writing? Getting back to writing?

Who here has been able to keep writing daily in the midst of 2020?

Not me! Here is how it went for me…

• January–waiting for my book submission results, Husband gets Covid19. No diagnosis. Timing is such that the person who is patient 0 for the US(jan 21) managed to give it to someone and it eventually (within about 3-5 days) make it to my husband. Jan 23-25.
• February–youngest and I also get Covid but no one knows, doctors don’t know anything other than “it’s a virus” I buy masks, gloves and mucinex dm, book is rejected I submit to editor for advice- all three of us really ill with something that doesn’t quit–good days and bad–food and cleaning supply hunting becomes part time job then full time job in between coughing.
• March–all still sick with covid, have meeting with editor –really excited and energetic on the call, collapse afterward into the worst of covid, (oddly enough so does the editor) oldest comes home from NYC. Oldest has a fever the next morning-I knew it was a risk but I wanted her home. I get diagnosed March 18 so all of us including the oldest, though she has it lightly, are sick. I have a headache that drops me to my knees desperate to get under it. away from it. that night I spike a fever of 104 in the middle of the night, covered with goosebumps and shaking with tooth shattering chills. wonder if I get to wake in the morning. Too sick to care for husband who is also sicker now than before. This is the month that dehydrates us and makes us hurt –the hurt is no joke–there is no position where you are comfortable-None None None. worse than the worst of chemo, the worst of valley fever induced pneumonia worse than anything had before. Including Whooping cough.
• April –all of us well by April 10 cough of 3 months is gone, no more fever–exhausted been sick for 2 and 1/2 months, a friend from high school passes away and a friend of my mom’s.
• May--recovering, graduation for youngest, try to write, begin many blog posts set aside, move oldest out of nyc apt without being there and bring her stuff here.
• June–prep oldest for move and college–packing etc, movers, etc–all of us test positive for antibodies, try to write, begin outlining last draft.
• July— oldest has moved, prepping younger to move to college(fingers crossed) All well and hoping to stay that way. Thoroughly confused by people who don’t want to wear a mask. Lost a dear friend mid month and had to put our dog to sleep. Also had to cancel plans as younger daughter is going to go online first semester. On hold on hold –my life became hold music. I prefer classical and no talking by the way.
• August–This month started out ok–still in grieving mode a bit–things surprise me into tears–I went to SCBWI the childrens book writers and illustrators event –5 days of inspiration! New story ideas written down and a new idea about a picture book that has stumped me for 3 years!
• September–I start an online class at my college. First class in 2 years. Youngest and oldest are squared away in school. I am haunting labradoodle breeder websites looking for another dog. The pain is still great from losing Patriot –so much so that I now hate cooking dinner–my life is lonely without him asking to go out, breath outside air while on the door jam and just in general needing attention when my hands are deep in making guacamole.

I am exhausted and emotional just looking at this.

Losing our dog was the straw that broke this camel’s back for me. My usual ebullient self has been a bit hard to find. I was handling things up to now, but man oh man 2020! From now on 2020 will enter our conversations like snafu, the big one, the bomb. We will simply say, “I couldn’t get it done it was like 2020.” Or “it hit me like 2020” or “the last week was 2020 for me.” I am a bit worn down. I love my house but I wouldn’t mind eating in a restaurant or going to shop or the beach or ???

Shopping for food is still a bit fraught. Did I mention I have made dinner almost every night since March? Including when I was so sick, heck we all had it so why not? We stay isolated and are wearing masks in public. I am not feeling free yet. No one knows if we can get it again so we take precautions like everyone else. I rebelled in the past week- having takeout a few nights-tonight it will be back to cooking. Chicken and rice and guacamole I think–or chicken fried rice…not sure. Still want comfort food.

I wish I could have made time to write, but brain effects of covid-19 are real and it takes time for your memory and mind to function well after an illness like this one. Reminds me of post chemo. I needed time to heal. That probably as long as I was sick. About 3 months. Recovering, along with caring for my family and home, took precedence over everything else. All four of us together for four months was pretty awesome once we got past that whole “possibly losing your life to a pandemic” thing. Truly the best part was we got to spend 4 months together enjoying each other in spite of this mess. Nice for Patriot too. He had the whole family together for 4 of the last 5 months of his life.

BUT CAN WE GET BACK TO WRITING?

PLEASE!!!

I hope so. I need to enlist your help.

My plan is to work every day on my new draft of the book. One hour a day. Can you encourage me? I would love it! Hang out with me on instagram please. Comment on posts about how your writing is going…

My comments are turned off here and I can’t seem to get them to go back on –feel free to email or instagram or tweet. I just really don’t have the energy to hang on hold with the web host.

We will head into the last bit of the year together and maybe next year I will hold some sort of online workshop. One never knows. Right now I am off to study Gilgamesh and look at the many ways I can use it to further my own writing. A story that has been around for 4500 years must be good, right?

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