Novel Problems

I announced to my husband that I needed to fix my novel problem.

“Novel problem?” he asked. “Is that anything like a novel corona virus?”

Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, actually. It is.” Then I disappeared into my home office and started writing this blog post, procrastinating yet again on my novel problem.

Writing is weird. While nonfiction must be incredible in order to sell, fiction must be believable. While the author invents a story with make-believe characters, it’s usually set in actual real locations during a real time period. If you mess up, readers will catch every blunder. My genre, historical fiction, presents its own challenges.

For example, in my current work-in-progress, which takes place in Manitoba during the 1940s, I’d been charging ahead with my story in the interest of accumulating words instead of stopping to research. My main character enrolled in the St. Boniface nursing school. So far so good, right?

When I stopped writing long enough to do some digging, I discovered some serious flaws. My character was married, for one. Married women couldn’t enroll in that or most other nursing schools until the 1960s. I also had her going home on weekends. In fact, student nurses worked seven days a week and were fortunate if they got a few hours off at Christmas!

These discoveries meant I needed to make major revisions to my plot structure. Which, sadly, meant I’d abandoned the whole project for a week. When I finally devised a solution, the conversation at the opening of this post ensued.

My novel problem feels like the novel virus because:

1.      It’s painful. As in, hard work.  

2.      It’s scary, because I don’t know whether my “patient” will survive. Will I be able to fix this story or is it time to give it a proper burial?

3.      Isolation is required. It’s my book and nobody else is going to fix it. No one is going to cheer over my shoulder as I type. In fact, no one’s going to miss this masterpiece if it’s not resuscitated because nobody else ever knew of its existence.

So yes, dear. This is a bit like the novel corona virus, if only to me.

The word “novel” has two distinct definitions. As a noun, it’s “an invented prose narrative, usually long and complex and dealing with human experience through a connected sequence of events,” as in my book.

But as an adjective, it means “new and not resembling something previously identified,” as in Covid-19.

The two seemingly unrelated definitions of “novel” may share more than previously thought—at least for the writer in the process of creating a book. Where will this story go? Who will pay the highest price? How will it be resolved, and when? Will it result in a happily-ever-after? And, perhaps most importantly, will the characters learn and grow from it?

Novelists or not, we’re all writing a story of our own through this uncertain time. It’s one you’ll tell your friends when it’s over and your grandchildren in years to come. And whether it’s a story of fear and panic or a story of love and grace, it will be your unique story. Write it well.

Waiting for the Reunion

If you ask people what they miss most during this time of isolation, you can be reasonably sure it’s not their workplace or Rotary meetings or sports practice or shopping or the theater or restaurants or even church. If you ask what the first thing they want to do when restrictions are lifted, most won’t say they’re going to run straight to the pub or go work out at the gym or purchase concert tickets.

Oh, they’ll do those things eventually. But for most of us, what we’re looking forward to the most is a reunion with loved ones. Grandparents ache to hug their grandkids again. Children and teenagers are eager to see their friends. Young couples in love will enjoy that first embrace more than any other. Every “first-time-back” meeting will be a place of joy, smiles, and connection. Church lobbies everywhere will look like mass hug-fests the first Sunday we gather again. The longer we must wait, the more precious that day will be.

 

It’s fun to imagine the rejoicing, the cheers, the smiles, the bursting into song, the bounce in people’s steps when that day comes. We’re social creatures, made for community. For what some call “fellowship.”

And in a way, that’s what Easter is all about.

When sin entered our world—and along with it, sickness and death—it doomed us to a future separated from God and eventually from each other. God is perfect and cannot fellowship with sinfulness. Our sinfulness broke his heart, because he wants community with us.

So he made a way.

He sent his son, Jesus Christ to pay the price for our sin. Because Jesus was perfect, when he died on the cross, it took care of the sin part. But only his resurrection could solve the separation part. Three days after his death, he rose from the dead. Because he did, we can too. This is why death holds no power over those who believe in him. It’s why Christians can feel deep joy at a funeral, even while we’re sad and grieving. We know there’s a great reunion coming, and we look forward to that day more than any other.

1 Corinthians 15:55 asks, “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” The man who wrote those words, Paul, told believers not to grieve “as those who have no hope.” He didn’t tell us not to grieve. Of course we grieve. But we grieve with the knowledge that our separation is temporary. 

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ changes everything. It teaches us how to grieve. It teaches us how to die. It teaches us how to wait.

Easter 2020 will be one for the history books, won’t it? Whether you’re stuck at home with kids who can’t participate in their usual traditions, or home alone longing for a family gathering, or worried because someone you care about is ill, or grieving the loss of a loved one—may this Easter serve to remind you why it’s the most important holiday on the calendar. There’s a great reunion coming that Easter made possible.

The longer we must wait, the more precious that day will be.

What if...?

Remember when life was “normal?” Remember how much complaining and criticizing went on when life was “normal?” Yet have you noticed that everywhere we turn people are saying they can’t wait for life to get back to normal?

What if it never does?

Listening to the nightly news can certainly feed into our “what ifs,” can’t it? Maybe we could envision a whole new, better normal by considering different “what ifs.” Such as:

What if, years from now, when you ask your grown kids to share their favourite memory from their childhood, they say it was during the pandemic of 2020 because they got to stay home from school and spend quality time with you?

What if crime goes down because the troublemakers are staying home?

What if travel loses its appeal, keeping your vacation dollars here in our local economy?

What if the environment improves because of fewer carbon dioxide emissions?

What if, after this is over, we all scrimp and save until we’ve socked away enough money to cover six months of living expenses, like financial advisors have been telling us to do all along?

What if you discover a whole new career that you love because you were forced to homeschool your children or take a temporary job or cross-train for different duties at work?

 

What if, in the race to discover a cure for the corona virus, scientists stumble upon a cure for cancer?

What if traffic accidents decrease because so few are on the highways?

What if sports injuries decline because games are cancelled?

What if, during this pandemic, our medical experts realize they can bring huge relief to our system by paying doctors for phone consults when appropriate? (I received a call from my lung specialist, for the first time ever, with results of a scan done in February. For me, it meant five minutes out of my day as opposed to hours in a waiting room, a round trip to Winnipeg plus parking costs, for the same outcome!)

What if the incidents of ordinary colds and flu diminish because we’ve made a habit of better hand hygiene?

What if the death toll rises to a million when the enemy of our souls intended it to wipe out all 7.8 billion of us? (As of this writing, 59,000 have died of Covid-19 worldwide. Yes, it’s terrible. For perspective, 50 million died in the Spanish flu epidemic of 1918-19.)

What if, after restrictions are lifted, every church in town is bursting at the seams because people are spiritually hungry for the first time?

What if relationships are restored because the harsh reminder of your own mortality caused you to forgive or ask forgiveness or initiate that important conversation?

What if you look back on this and see a hundred ways that God has carried you through?

What if you come out kinder, calmer, more compassionate and patient?

What if God keeps his promise in II Chronicles 7:14 to forgive our sin and heal our land because we, his people, have humbled ourselves and prayed and sought his face?

Many of these outcomes are out of our sanitized little hands. But several of them are up to us. Whether or not they come to fruition will be determined largely by what you choose to do today. Right now. In the middle of it.

I bet you can think of more “what-ifs.” I’d love to hear them. God bless you!