I have been working, on and off, for several years on a novel that was to have been named Josh at the Door. The story was drawn from my relationship with Su which had lasted more than twenty years. Then, a year ago last March, Su died as the result of a stomach ailment. Work on the book stopped.
It’s obvious to me that the story I was writing is now fundamentally changed. It will end as Josh, the protagonist, learns to adjust to life without his beloved Mimì. And the name will be changed to Love in the Time of Coronavirus, inspired by Love in the Time of Cholera, a novel by Colombian Nobel prize winning author Gabriel García Márquez.
But so far, try as I might, I haven’t been able to resume work on the book. My grief at the loss of Su has stopped me. But since I was born to write and writing is why I was put on earth, I must find a way to resume my work on that book and another one I was sketching out on the 1967 battle of Dak To in Vietnam’s western highlands, one of the bloodiest battles of the war and one I was deeply involved in. My reason for existence is at stake.
So I’ll try again. Wish me luck.