Covid Stories

One of my students said that she was struggling to make any progress with her novel as it was set in the current day and everything had changed. I felt for her. My current story is set (slightly) in the past, so this wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, previously.

When you consider it, even describing a contemporary scene as ‘every day’ as walking down the street would bear no resemblance in a balmy summer scene of 2020 to one you may have written, or read, last year. The wearing of face coverings on public transport will be either mandatory or encouraged across the UK in a few days’ time and I see no reason why people will remove their masks before proceeding on foot to their destination. Once walking, whether people opt for the two metre dance, bouncing like leprechauns from pavement to kerb and even into the road to keep their distance from potential contamination, or the head down swagger of those confident that it would take more than a chance brush with a Covid-19 carrying stranger to become infected by it - and all those in between - it’s safe to say that moving from one place to another is going to look very different in this third decade of the new millennium. And for the foreseeable future at least.  

Add to that the lack of any physical contact - even some eye contact seems to have been tarnished with the brush of extreme caution - silent restaurants, well-spaced queues with no sniff of any barging, boarded up businesses that even furloughing couldn’t save and cinemas still advertising pre-Easter films, and it’s fair to say that without addressing the post-Covid-19 setting, the story could look oddly dated, even bizarre.

I was musing this when I came across a brilliant article in the Guardian where different authors give their views on how to deal with the Covid-19 In Fiction dilemma. They talk more of the plot itself and the challenges, for example, of the consequences of love at first sight, indeed a quickie down the side street, with masks and two metre distances in place. Hmmm. 

It’s a thought-provoking article and I certainly don’t have the answers.

But I do know I’m not ready, or willing, to jump into a covered faces, worried street of Covid-19 affected stories for my late-night reads. I tend to read fiction and although I do opt for gritty reality over fantasy, I also want to spend time in another world. In short, I won’t be opting to read a novel set in a pandemic any time soon, and the film of that name as far as I’m concerned, can safely be stored away until any grandchildren ask us what it was really like.

Does this mean that everything I read from here on in will need to be set in the past, or will writers decide their story can manage without this nod to reality? I mean, how interesting is a snapshot of a street full of people adhering to the rules? I don’t think there’s an awful lot you can do with a picture of people in masks, once it’s been duly noted for continuity purposes. It feels a bit like pointing out that the people walking down the road have skin on their faces, or need to open their mouths to eat. And yet not to embrace our current climate, would seem out of sorts, too - a whopping great elephant in the room.

Dear readers, writers, this question has me flummoxed!

How much reference to Covid-19 would you want, how much would you need, to be included in a story that took place post spring 2020? Is this something you’re currently addressing or even reading right now? Perhaps the wearing of masks and keeping of good social distance is already adding to the plot you’re writing or the story you’re reading. I’m really interested in your take on this. 

Please do share your thoughts!

Meanwhile, I hope this post reaches you all safe and well and managing to navigate the madness and sadness of the Covid-19 world.  

*Footnote! Interestingly, when I did my spellcheck, it didn’t recognise ‘Covid-19’ – I wonder how long it will take to get with the 2020 programme…?

Story-telling Charades

Asking me for a book recommendation is a commitment to a game of story-telling charades. I can give you un-abridged plot, swear my undying love for the characters and unbridled respect for the author but rarely can I give you their name or the title of the novel, without a little mental gymnastics first.

You just have to read, I say. Ok, it's a summer theme, same author as the one everyone's read with the blue cover, a desolate beach scene, silhouette of lovers holding hands. Don't recognise it? Oh, then put that on your list too. You'll cry, I warn, but it's uplifting as well.

The author? You'll know her, she's written loads! She must have been there, I add, sagely, must have had a close encounter with death because it was the little things she mentioned; the not washing the pillow cases. Edinburgh, you know?

After You'd Gone! You call. Yes! You've read it, I say, brilliant isn't it? I'll never forget it. So, what's the author's name? I can picture it on the cover in block white print. Same surname as a funny male writer. No, they're not married, not even related, shame. But she is married to a writer, another funny bloke, he's not O'Farrell though. He's William Sut…

O'Farrell! We scream in unison. Maggie O'Farrell. Phew! Instructions For A Heatwave, I say. Read that on the beach.

So, even though I'm never knowingly without a novel by my bed and another in my bag, putting together my list of recommended reading can be quite an undertaking. After much jumping up and down to my book shelves, family tree-esque diagrams and a convoluted path around Google, I've come up with my list of ten recommended stories old and new for the summer edition of Chase Magazine* – see page 54/55 - to spare you the charades. 

A new edition to Chase Magazine is Kids Corner on page 56 where a young writer has the chance to see their piece of short fiction in print. This issue's contributor is Georgia Buxton, age 13, (and no relation to me :D) with her quirky insight into Planet Zarg. If you know any keen writers under the age of 16, living in Sheffield, Rotherham or elsewhere in South Yorkshire, who'd like to see their writing in print, please encourage them to give it a go. 

All submissions should be emailed directly to the editor: joe.cawthorn@rotherhamadvertiser.co.uk 
as a Word attachment. Short stories, poetry and flash fiction up to 500 words in length all welcome and successful entrants will receive up to five free copies of the edition of Chase in which their article is printed. Good luck!

So, what have you been reading lately? Please share. Charades-type descriptions always acceptable...

*You may have to register with Chase the first time you click on the online edition but it's plain sailing after that.

The Novel in your Hand

Sun setting, men tending to the early summer barbecue, children playing sweetly together in the vast fields attached to the camp site and the scene is set for a much loved relative and I to have a glass of wine together. I ask about the novel in her hand and she talks enthusiastically about the brilliance of this book, how she doesn't want it to finish and how she’d feel differently about a friend who didn’t enjoy it, such was the impact the book has had on her own life.

I understand this level of passion for a novel. However I’d defy anybody who’s played any part in a book club to feel like this, nothing being less predictable in a group of people than who will like and dislike your chosen story. Our conversation came to a natural close but nonetheless left me with a slight uneasiness and the hope that this relative wouldn’t buy me the book in question. 

Three months later, the book arrived. I bet you’ll love this, she wrote inside. I do hope so, I thought to myself.

To make matters worse, this same relative, whose opinion I do respect, had bought me a novel for a previous birthday which I really didn’t enjoy, despite it being tremendously popular and a film having come from it. I decided to be honest when we discussed it later, although choosing to focus on the parts I liked, or perhaps should say, could bear, rather than those which had me squirming with nausea. Yes, the nostalgic scenes were great, I said, with a fixed smile. I wrestled with myself even back then about not admitting my true feelings about a book. It wasn’t as if my friend had written it, or even that a friend of a friend of hers had written it. But somehow, it just seemed a little ungrateful to talk about not enjoying a present.

So, imagine how I felt when I finally picked up this now infamous book during the Christmas holidays and struggled to get started. Reading under pressure to enjoy something, I’ve discovered, is a little like being asked to ‘walk normally’ as a consultant asked me to do, recently. How hard can it be to put one foot in front of the other? Try it! I nearly fell over, such was my determination to produce an even tread.

I re-started this book three times – each time, thinking that I mustn’t have been in the mood or was too tired to concentrate. On the third, I made a pact with myself. I would treat this book like any other; if it wasn’t working for me by the 100^th page, I would cut my losses and turn to the next in my To Be Read pile which is reminiscent of a publisher’s slush pile of reads from wannabe first-time novelists. 

Besides, hopefully the conversation would never come up.

I saw the book-giver over Christmas and she said how much she’d really enjoyed Glasshopper by Isabel Ashdown which I’d given her for her birthday. She spoke so fondly of the adorable main character, Jake, that I had no doubt her praise was real. I’ve just started yours, I said, the blurb looks great.

It wasn’t going well. By page 30 I was tempted to skim read. For the record, my problem is with the introduction of the main characters and their stories, without enough happening elsewhere. I reminded myself that I felt similarly about Atonement by Ian McEwan up to around 50 pages and that went on to become one of my all-time favourite reads.

This novel was now under about the same amount of pressure to be enjoyable as David Cameron is to sort out the debt crisis. It wasn’t fair to heap so much responsibility on one story, to put it under such close scrutiny.

I started the novel for the fourth time, knowing I had a good unbroken couple of hours ahead of me to ‘get into this book’, such had become the nature of the challenge. There was a flicker, around page 45, when I found a character I thought I might care about but other than that, I’m afraid, at page 114, I gave up for the last time and went to bed.

And that’s where my story ends. I can’t bring myself to pretend I’ve read this book but I also don't relish seeing the disappointment in the relative’s face if I reveal I can't even finish it. What would you do in this situation? And if you’ve been in a similar place before, please do tell us here!

Happy New Year everyone and happy reading, whatever you choose!