So I see lockdown is ending. Or is it? Have any of us ever been entirely clear? For me, a different type of lockdown is beginning since my editor, who knows I only respond well to deadlines, has commanded that I deliver a draft of my new novel at the beginning of October. As I’ve said here before, reading and writing have been a mighty struggle while this has all been going on. I have been totally obsessed with the wellbeing of everyone I’ve ever met and literally everyone I’ve yet to meet. So, for the next few months, while everybody ventures out to enjoy a meal at 50% off, or to go and get their legs waxed, I’ll be writing, probably.
I say this, but I did drive to Ikea with one of my best friends last week and spent the whole time dodging the dozens of people who forgot to social distance the minute they saw that yellow and blue lettering. It felt scarily close to normal until I caught my masked reflection and remembered that this virus hasn’t gone anywhere. While I watch you all enjoy yourselves from behind my laptop – and I don’t want to sound too old fashioned – I implore you to keep washing your hands, wearing your masks and observing social distancing. Yes, the economy has shrunk, but so has the population, and we need to keep looking after each other. Because the government certainly hasn’t been doing that.