On the completely unscientific crabby scale, I’m not that crabby. More calm than crabby. Between my concussion and the pandemic, I have been living a quiet life for five years now. I’m pretty used to it. But like everyone else, I’ll be happy when the pandemic over.
What I don’t want to do is go “back to normal.” Normal got us here. Normal needs to change. The pandemic, like a brain injury, is a good time to hit the reset button. Lately, I’ve been thinking about something the ecofeminist Charlene Spretnak wrote way back in 1991 in her book States of Grace. “An event of deep transition creates its own rules.” This is the time to think deeply about what the new rules might be.
As for writing, since my big crash I’ve been editing more than writing. Elaine and I finished Impact: Women Writing After Concussion (University of Alberta Press, September 2021). I also finished my novel, Patterson House (Inanna, 2022). Finishing these two works feels momentous. I will have a small and isolated celebration. Perhaps some tea.
And, although I rarely talk about work in progress, I will admit that I have something new on the go. Although it’s too early to know exactly what it is, if you want a preview, one story from it will come out next year in (M)othering, an anthology edited by Anne Sorbie and Heidi Grogan (Inanna, 2022). Meanwhile, here’s a photo of the notes I’m gathering to get back to that work.
But first, I have to do my taxes. Now THAT is something to get crabby about.