I’ll be honest. I’ve been feeling a little unseen lately. 

Everything was going pretty well this spring. I was venturing out more, meeting up with friends, and even taking risks like auditioning for a local play. (I didn’t get the role, but I put myself out there! I’d never done that before.) Then Alan came home from a conference with Covid, and everything came to a screeching halt. 

For several weeks I suffered from brain fog and fatigue. I couldn’t finish my May newsletter. I was unable to revise my short stories. And because I tested positive for over three weeks, I remained isolated from other people. No singing or acting classes. No dancing or yoga or kettlebell sessions. No hanging out at the neighborhood bar with friends.

The apprehension and loneliness that I felt during the Covid lockdown returned, and I’ll be honest, I got a little depressed. But that’s when I realized it was time to write about those emotions. During the lockdown, I had no interest in writing about the Covid epidemic. I needed an escape. I needed to read and write about different time periods. Now I’m ready to capture what we’re going through today, this period when we need to get past our Covid PTSD and figure out how to live our lives again. That is what the characters in my next novel will face.