For me, 2020 has been a year of isolation punctuated with brief, bright flashes of contact. Playing
Animal Crossing: New Horizons with friends in the first weeks of quarantine. The first socially distanced picnic of the summer, where I unleashed three months of pent-up words. My first hug, in late August, after five months without touch. It could be worse it could always be worse but this year has made me slightly feral, and it has left me very, very lonely.
It’s also been a bad year for my writing, and I can’t decide whether that’s because I’m too overwhelmed to create, or because the “everything” of it all is a great excuse not to. But in all this mess, I found a place of joy, of sustained enthusiasm, of people eager to