Hallllooooo Gina Soooo the world, amirite? It’s all kinda…. back. This is, ostensibly, a good thing because generally pandemics are considered to be A Bad Thing. Not that the pandemic is over for everyone, of course, but here in the south of England things are mostly pretty chill. Although let’s not forget that the pre-pandemic normal was all kinds of insane and needed burning to the ground and rebuilding in the form of an egalitarian utopia that worked in harmony with the delicate balance of nature. But still, wow, it feels good to have the pubs back. Hashtag priorities. There is a slight hitch tho. And that is that everyone has forgotten how to do humaning. Even worse for us writerly types, who are generally speaking* a bunch of awkward weirdos.*Generally, not universally. I’m sure that you’re actually perfectly capable and competent and not even slightly awkward and can handle other humans humaning in your vicinity without being accidentally weird. BUT ARE YOU REALLY?So yes. Let us spare a thought for us poor writerly types who have always been quite crap at this Other People business and now have to return to it after 18 months off. And because we love you, and because helping you is our number one priority AT ALL TIMES, here is our some point guide to surviving The Grand Re-Socialising As A Writer. - Just don’t go out.
Did you even go out much in the Before Time? Exactly. Stop this madness now and stay on the comfy armchair with a book where you belong.
- Small talk big talk
Acceptable questions to open a conversation: are you still working at home? How was lockdown for you? Isn’t this all still so weird? Which jab did you get?
Ill-advised questions: How are you? (Unless you want the real answer). How much time did you spend in your pants? Sooo, are you getting a haircut soon?
Unacceptable questions: Can I see the pants you spent all your time in? Did you finish that novel with all the time you’ve just spent lazing at home?
If in conversational doubt, try drawing on the source of infinite pointless facts your writerly research has gifted to you. Did you know people have been using the same bone tools for leatherwork for 50,000 years? Did you know that Dalmatians are the official mascot of the fire brigade because they used to run alongside horse-drawn fire engines and bark at anyone who tried to steal the horses? Did you know the human brain is made up of 85% water? We’re practically jellyfish! Oh, and if you stab someone with an icicle you can just melt the murder weapon, cool right? Wait, why are you running away?
- Normalise lying down
Most of us are torn between wanting to lie in a dark room in silence and wanting to see our friends. Why not both? Invite friends round to lie on your living room floor, occasionally wailing (not whaling, that’s bad). Perhaps also introduce gnashing if you’re feeling up to it. A silent reading party with blankets and cocktails? SHUT UP AND TAKE MY RSVP!
- Do it in short bursts
Socialising again is exhausting. Save yourself from Human Fatigue by limiting contact to short bursts, perhaps an hour in the afternoon, 90 minutes in the evening, or maybe even stop by the pub with a stopwatch set for 45 seconds enabling you to leave almost the second you walk in because wow really no thanks other people. Also practice saying: I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten how to exist in this dimension, I have to go back to my isolation pod but I’ll see you again soon.
- Don’t take it personally
Everyone feels lonely. Everyone feels rejected. Everyone wants to hang out but no one can really manage it. It’s not personal, it’s just the pandemic. They don’t secretly hate you. I mean they do all secretly hate me, but not you, so you’re ok.
- Judgement schmudgement
So you didn’t write King Lear like everyone was telling you to at the beginning. I mean. You’ve just been through one of the most traumatic experiences of your life and you’re probably a touch PTSD-ey. You wouldn’t come home from being mugged at gunpoint and cry because you didn’t bake a cake. So. Stop it. Behave.
- Embrace the awks
Awkwardness is a precursor to embarrassment which is a precursor to shame. Shame is a fear of isolation or being disconnected or rejected from the community because you did something fucking stupid. Stumbling over a conversation because you’ve spent the last 18 months afraid of the air is a perfectly rational response to a bananas situation. It isn’t awkward or shameful. No shame allowed. Only silent reading parties with blankets and cocktails allowed.
- Become a higher being
What, like it’s hard?
There we are. You’re good to go. Or stay. Whatever. Good luck out there, fellow robots. Oh yes, and do some writing too etc and so on OKAY BYESarah, Jo and Team WHQ |
