Okay. So, I’m in a room in small room. Given like the situation in New York City, I left and I came up to Beacon, New York, to my cousin’s place. And we’ve hunkered down here and made it quite the creative experience, I guess, when you have that privilege.
And at first I was sort of very anxious about it all. And by now have settled. And I know that I don’t have to like create something magnificent during the quarantine. I should just stay healthy and alive. But. Creating something would be ideal. So I’ve been working on my next book and so far it’s coming out shit. But the idea is good.
The process for it to be good includes writing out the shitty. Then the good will come through. I hope.
But we’re healthy. We’re alive. And honestly for the writer’s life that I’ve lived so far, quarantine seems pretty much the way I used to live my life, except now I have permission to dive really deep into the things I love creating. So, can’t really complain. It could be much worse.