It has been challenging to write in the time of COVID. I have a new respect for the Renaissance writers who produced such elegant and passionate plays and poetry at a time when theaters often had to shut down and quarantines were common. At first I thought all of that alone time would make it easier, but I found myself sitting despondently at the computer, staring at the screen, paralyzed by a sense of impending doom. I could write non-fiction, but I couldn't seem to focus on fiction. I had four novels going at one time--science fiction, modern mystery, and two pieces of historical fiction--that's how scattered my brain felt! I would write a few pages on one and then my attention would wander to another, so I was bouncing between Bronze Age Greece, early Judah, futuristic time travel, and Sandi Beck on her sailboat in Florida. It was confusing, frustrating and disheartening. It wasn't until the days got warmer and I was able to get outside, see other human beings (albei