In April 2020, we invited writers in Quebec to submit a story of a single day during the strange, uneasy time of coronavirus and pandemic, of social distancing and self isolation, of lockdown and quarantine.
We’re thrilled to announce that these stories have been gathered in Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic (Guernica Press). To learn more and buy the book, please visit https://www.guernicaeditions.com/title/9781771836579.
Please also join us on the QWF FB Community page, and let the authors know if their words resonated.
This piece is by April Ford, writing on Friday, April 3, 2020.
Dear next Monday: I will conquer you. It’s only Friday, so I have the whole weekend (and this evening) to mentally prepare. The first thing I’ll do when I wake up Monday morning is write for two hours. Nothing will come between me and new words except for a shot of stovetop espresso. Made with my single-cup Bialetti, which I should probably clean—like, really scrub—now that I have time. Usually I just rinse it after each use, which, in light of the pandemic, seems kind of gross and maybe even dangerous. I really can’t say, because Trudeau can’t seem to say. Legault, though, he’s pulling for us. (Never imagined myself saying that.)
To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic