A year ago today, on the eve of my debut adult novel, Faultland, like so many other authors who were reinventing the book launch for Covid times, I felt adrift and untethered. I’d launched my young adult books in brick-and-mortar bookstores, in a doughnut shop, and even, in 2014, in the basement of an iconic bookstore on the heels of AWP.
Celebrating the publication of a book through the interface of a zoom screen was different. Reading and answering questions behind the barrier of techno-gadgets and screens—worried that, at any given time, the power might zap off, leaving me in a black hole—hollowed me out some. Kept me in that same ephemeral daydream typically experienced during the writing of the book: existing as a ghost person. Floating in semi-reality.
It wasn’t all bad though. Especially the part where my audience included friends and family members from far away. Folks who would not have been a part of an in-town book launch party. Still. I longed for face-to-face. For handing my book to another hand. Even as an introvert, I loved that part—the physicality of hand-selling.
A lot has been discussed about the mental health fallout of Covid. Solitude is a natural and necessary part of writing, for sure. But in “normal times,” that isolation is mitigated by semi-regular social activity. I am reminded of an early 90’s lecture by Annie Dillard, when, during Q & A, a man, under the assumption that she’d observed monk-like solitude while writing Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, asked her about the drawbacks of reclusion, to which she laughed, and set him straight. She claimed to spend several hours a day in the natural world, but in the evenings, she enjoyed cocktail parties and other social occasions. A necessary balance.
As we scramble now, in the wake of maskless crowds, resumption of in-person events, one foot in pre-pandemic volition while looking over our shoulders for the next lethal variant, we “quiet types” are reinventing that introvert/extrovert balance. Do we dare get on a plane? Attend a reading at Powell’s? Flock to an indoor sporting event? Dinner parties? Galleries? Visiting elderly relatives? Who happen to live in foreign countries?
Three days post international travel, I’m here to tell you, it’s a process. Unlike the whole riding a bicycle cliché, you don’t just roll along as though nothing ever changed.
There are new forms to fill out, tests to take, digital proof of this and that to download, and the queues are twice as long as usual. Remember how TSA added complications to travel after 9/11? Covid travel has added a few more layers. Here’s my report:
Last week, my husband and I flew to Portugal for spring break. Partly to check on my 82-year-old mother and her 87-year-old husband, and partly to test the waters post-lockdown. First, let me say, if you are wanting to dip your toe into the international travel waters, but fear the reports that Covid is once again racing through Europe (also, um, the war?), Portugal is a terrific choice. In this newish democracy (their last bout with a dictator ended in the 1970’s) not once did we experience someone throwing a histrionic fit about wearing a mask. Not once did we run across an anti-vax temper tantrum. In fact, the entire ten days of our vacation, we heard not one siren, nor did we come across an altercation. No news reports of shootings, celebrity punching, or partisan whining (except when we checked in with American twitter here and there). In fact, we didn’t even see as much as a fender bender on the highways and surface streets—cobblestones, narrow passages, and all.
What we did see were folks living their lives. Masks were obligatory inside public spaces, and many older people wore them while walking outside as well. After two years of tourism decline, places in Lisbon and the Algarve are opening up again, and they don’t wish to return to lockdown. There is a cautiously optimistic spirit in the air. Prague Spring. But in Portugal.
Back to rejigging that introvert/extrovert balance. Subverting the lockdown paradigm of the last two years, for me, was helped by being thrust out of my comfort zone. I want to find that joy again. Do you know what I mean? The spark that comes from filling your tank with discovery, interaction, beauty. What the Portuguese call, alegria.
Glad to hear your Portugal trip was so restful and that you feel rejuvenated!
I was on that Zoom call! Glad your travel experience was good - I hope to have a similar experience during my trip to France in June.