In the world before now, I conspired with the Crabapple Collective on some writing projects. It was a joy. Working with this accomplished group of spirited authors provided solidarity. And a channel to stay connected with book publishing – a labour of love I once practiced full time.
One that’s hard to leave behind.
Before working as a publisher, I practiced museology for 20 years. But filling digital ledgers with stories about artifacts doesn’t resonate like making books.
Today I think about gratitude more than ever, the privilege of being safe and working from home never lost on me. I hope we can someday leave behind this state of hyper vigilance, and the dread of sharing breath with our loved ones for fear we might pass on a deathly illness.
For now I’ve stopped writing about object provenance and fiction. I fill my days with government web content assignments that immerse me in a world of online income assistance applications, steps for keeping exotic pests like rats and Bertha Armyworm out of the province, and why it’s important to wash your wellies before entering a barn.
At least we can always write.
Lou Morin