During the last few months, confined at home because of the spreading pandemic, I wrote my new thriller, Overdue, with a guiding thought in mind: here we are, living in this historic moment, and I must commit to paper what it feels like. I must use the widespread angst we all suffer through, because in a way, this is not only a contemporary story but also a one of a grave historical meaning.
I tried to capture the despair of old people languishing in isolation. The feel of the streets, where the homeless are left to fend for themselves and rioters stir unrest. The doubt you have when faced with masked people, seemingly devoid of faces, of identities, to the point that criminals can easily pose as medics, they can use the new method of transporting the dead in refrigerator trucks as a way to escape justice.
I fully understand that different readers may have different experiences with the story, because unfortunately our society is so divided these days. What to one person is the truth can be perceived as a provocation to another. Even so, I am compelled to take a snapshot of reality from where I stand.
Here is an excerpt:
This is a new world. A world where you can never be sure what to believe; where a pandemic is called a hoax, which allows it to spread unabated; where, in the face of a rising death toll, the promise of a vaccine is being dangled without any scientific basis whatsoever by politicians who’ll do just about anything to remain in power; where you better stay more than a breath away from crowds; where you must protect yourself from a hug, a handshake can be dangerous, and a kiss can kill.