I haven't even got a proper title for this: a pandemic year(ish) in review(ish), 12+ months on
Just over a year ago, I started off my ‘Is there a ’best age’ to be in today’s world? How scary, really, does the future have to be?’ post with this quotation: “A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.” (EB White) I haven’t had to resort to recycling old quotations because I’m short of ideas; rather, I want to stress how relevant that thought is right now. There are a lot of ideas on my mind that I’d like to share. But I can’t seem – despite what I’ve attempted to say before – to overcome this need to find ‘ideal conditions’ in which to write. ‘Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in the human situation.’ (Ways of Escape, Graham Greene) There, that’s better. Rewind back to March 2020 with me if you will – sorry, this brings back painful memories to the start of the pandemic. May...