The advice to write what you know is generally sound. But best not to dwell too long, if nothing much is happening day after day after day. Unless you’re Samuel Beckett.
I mean this stupid virus of course, and the trudge of recuperation. This one lacks the arresting moments that made unfolding instalments of my adventures in urology last year such a good doom-scroll.
We talked about this once, Simon Wilson and I, about the warm appreciation you get, and the catharsis it can give you, to write about such an experience.
