Having lunch with a friend these days will bring up the question, "How did you get through COVID?" We traded tales from not giving up meeting people until outside dining inevitably became impossible in Wisconsin to the cold dark days of late November to the surprisingly warm days of late winter.
My latest companion has a young family that undoubtedly became closer during the isolation periods. Working from home was a new experience for many. To some it was liberation. To others it was desperation. As a society, it seems we have divided opinions on this.
When I was walking home from our meeting, I was examining my path. I write a lot of fiction. My process is to imagine my characters in certain situations and see how they will react. I do not start out with what facet of the human condition this tale demonstrates. I find that thematic gem when my characters find it and most certainly they will. or the manuscript goes on the cyber junkpile
My characters become my friends and associates on our mission to tell a good story. My point being we didn't have to wear masks or social distance. In my mind, I may think I know them well, but as we walk the path together we begin to show each other weaknesses and strengths that were previously unknown. There are occasions when these characters slip away so far as to comingle with reality. They are so real to me that they substitute for real contact.
It is apparent to me that not only did my writing become more competent but it helped me through the long hours without human contact. I think what I did is a return to the stage of adolescence where I'm living with my imaginary friends. Call me crazy but they helped me through these dark days of COVID fear.
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