QWF Writes

Tag: chroniclingthedays

  • Chronicling the Days – Rachel McCrum

    Chronicling the Days – Rachel McCrum

    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 is the final piece in the series, written by Rachel McCrum on Monday, May 25.

    Photo: Mont Royal belvedere – April 2020.

    I’m woken at 530 a.m. by our petit pirate of a cat, who takes it upon herself to come and bat a grey paw in my face. She doesn’t want fed or out, particularly. Just a sign of life. She knows better than to touch J, my partner, sleeping peacefully beside me. His ability to flick a hip – and send her flying off the bed – without waking up should be patented.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Marian Rebeiro

    Chronicling the Days – Marian Rebeiro

    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 one of our final two pieces, written by Marian Rebeiro in May 2020.

    Image: Bruce Springsteen (Getty Images)

    The Perils and Parallels of Listening to Bruce Springsteen’s “Human Touch” in the Time of Pandemic

    It might sound a bit crazy to some, but I love a commute. A passive commute, mind you, where I can sit down on the bus or metro, and “check out” for a half hour, listen to music, read a book, or people watch. I love people watching. My morning commute gives me a moment to shift gears, and “get in the zone” (whatever “zone” I need to be in that day) after rushing to get myself ready and out of the house. It’s a moment of stillness, even though I’m still technically moving as I get from point A to point B, and I love it. It’s mine.

    Not so during a pandemic lockdown.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Francesca M. LoDico

    Chronicling the Days – Francesca M. LoDico

    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 Francesca M. LoDico, writing on April 26, 2020.

    Image: Creative Commons

    “I got my ducks,” says Lissa on the phone. “I’m their momma.”

    Lissa used to live next door with Ginger, her wire haired dachshund. For five years we shared the neighbourly camaraderie of single creatives bound by solitude: our Before version of together alone.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Louise Hinton

    Chronicling the Days – Louise Hinton

    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 Louise Hinton, writing in April 2020.

    La Siesta – Henri Manguin (1905, Creative Commons)

    On waking:

    What day is it?

    Enough sleep, car gone

    Rainbows, a cup of tea, the ticking clock

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Alison Piper

    Chronicling the Days – Alison Piper

    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 Alison Piper, writing in April 2020.

    Photo: Alison Piper

    The pink super moon rises

    The pink super moon rises quickly in a golden blaze, as if in a hurry. Its white facial features come into full view as night falls. This heavenly beacon shines down on the rainbow-lit structures of pandemic Montreal. The new Champlain bridge, the Big O, office towers and the Montreal Biosphere are glowing with red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. Or so I imagine it. I am only watching the moon from my six-foot-wide second storey windows, because like everyone else, I am not allowed to leave my neighbourhood of NDG. Like everyone else, I am a little afraid to leave my apartment or go too far, anyway.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Anabelle Zaluski

    Chronicling the Days – Anabelle Zaluski

    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 Anabelle Zaluski, writing in April 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    I pull my boots on, flatten my coat against my body, and set my mask delicately across my face. Grocery shopping is an ordeal now, I’ve learned, foreseen with the care and planning of a war. Do I have my list? The cart to pull behind me? Will I remember to keep distance, and to only pick up the apples that I plan on buying, instead of examining every one?

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic.

  • Chronicling the Days – Linda Thompson

    Chronicling the Days – Linda Thompson

    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 Linda Thompson, writing on Monday April 13, 2020.

    Photo: Creative Commons

    I’ve noticed a pattern since quarantine began on March 16th for me: One day I feel hopeful and the next I crash. The weather can change that one way or another. So when I open my eyes to the sound of pelting rain, I wait for the crushing feel of despair to weigh me down. Instead, I feel acceptance settle in my bones. For today at least, I am the lamb faithfully believing that the shepherds of our collective health will lead us to better days.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Marie Tully

    Chronicling the Days – Marie Tully

    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 Marie Tully, writing on Monday, April 6, 2020.

    Photo: Marie Tully

    I am entering my fourth week of social distancing, and confinement. We, my husband and I, started social distancing two weeks before it started being recommended. When I started really listening to what was happening in Wuhan in December (2019), my guts started talking to me. They (my guts) are rarely wrong. We cancelled appointments that involved big crowds of people, concerts, suppers with our gang of friends, because some of them were returning from vacations outside of the country. My guts told me to sit up and take stock of the situation, which I did. It turned out they (my guts) were right. Everyone in my entourage however, thought we were a little paranoid, but I knew something was coming, something big, something unbelievably big.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Andi Stewart

    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 Andi Stewart, writing in April 2020.

    Image: CBC

    The Pandemic of an Outsider.

    “Korean man stabbed near NDG.” The headline said. It continued, “Attack believed to be racially motivated. Suspect under investigation.” The article spilled through my screen as I read. Stories of similar situations had been appearing with greater frequency. They contributed to the construction of the new reality that began just two weeks ago. A world where new terms like “viral load”, “quarantine”, and “social distancing” entered the layman’s lexicon.

    I finished the article and tossed my phone aside. I shook my head; “… that can’t happen here.”

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic

  • Chronicling the Days – Clare Chodos-Irvine

    Chronicling the Days – Clare Chodos-Irvine

    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 Clare Chodos-Irvine, written on March 25, 2020.

    Film still from Lady Bird (2017, IAC films)

    Our apartment is small and everything lives inside of handmade ceramics. I spend the mornings drinking cups of tea and cutting long, thin slices of sourdough. I eat them while watching a video about someone else who’s stuck inside their own small apartment. It’s quiet except the wind is pushing through a small gap in my window, and I can hear it whistling. I can imagine a cat sitting on my bed, licking itself in the sunlight, except I didn’t think ahead and buy a cat before all this started, so it’s just a patch of sunlight and a pair of sweatpants I haven’t put away yet.

    To read the rest of the story, please support our community and check out Chronicling the Days: Dispatches from a Pandemic