So, here we are in the midst of a pandemic (for unknown reasons, the sound of this word makes me think of The Hunger Games). It’s really happening, all over the world. I wouldn’t have thought I would live to experience this but here I am - or better said, here we all are. I would have bet on getting to live a WWIII, with all the quarrels and the civil wars and the military ‘breakouts’ in Asia and Africa happening, rather than a virus lockdown. Countless times this past week I thought about the number of books that will be written during these times, based on this pandemic. We have yet to live and see for ourselves, in a couple of years, hopefully.
Meantime, I am on house arrest, due to obvious reasons. Not working my day job, yet finding different tasks, unrelated to writing (obviously, sigh!) to fill my day. So it happens that a week passed by (since my last post) without even opening the book document. Shame, shame!
Therefore, here I stand, confessing my 'sin' to you, my fellow readers, followers and writing comrades, and promising to be done with Chapter 17 by the end of the week, and to write a chapter per week (not one every two weeks, as scheduled), to compensate for the three weeks of procrastination and laziness.
Because my logical and admonishing self would say, ‘if you don’t write when you have this much free time, when will you?’
So here goes nothing.