The Coronanovel of Future Past

The COVID-19 pandemic has had a profound and undeniable influence on the world. Part of this influence will be some very bad art — after all, taking advantage of horrific tragedy for personal literary gain is a noble, longstanding tradition. The Corona-novel — an emerging and extremely bad genre certain to haunt literary houses for years to come — is the only logical next step. Even now, it is beginning. Across the country, in socially distanced MFA programs and coffee shops alike, aspiring novelists are getting ready to write.

I have taken a fun little trip into the future (followed by, of course, a fourteen-day quarantine and disruption of the space-time continuum) to assemble this list of excerpts from Corona-novels to come. They may not be enjoyable, literary, or even realistic. But they are, unfortunately, inevitable. Here’s a short sample of the bad literary tropes the future holds in store.

Kissing Through a Mask

I consider the half-hidden face before me. I can nearly make out the lips draped under the cold blue fabric. Without thinking, I lean in, and so does she. And we kiss like that: cloth against cloth, mask against mask. We pull back and exhale, taking a long, shuddering breath. For a moment, the world faded away. It was just us: her, me, our masks, and our lack of knowledge about the germ theory of disease.

Trashy Barnes and Noble Romance Novels Á La “Trapped With Him”

At first, Natalia hated the banker. His grating voice, his constant phone calls, his slightly-too-tight suits. But after the past week of mandatory quarantine, she started to notice other things: his tousled bedhead in the mornings, the way his eyes twinkled when he laughed, his frantic typing as he checked the skyrocketing rates of disease on Huffington Post.

“This Was All Just Fine Until It Started Affecting ME”

Before, the virus was scary. But when it affected aunt Jeanine’s ex-wife’s dog... it became all too real.

Elderly Couple Forced to Quarantine Together Remembers Why They Fell in Love

“It’s been a while since we spent time together like this. I… I missed this.”
He grabs her hand.
“I missed us.”

Young Couple Forced to Quarantine Together Immediately Breaks Up (Feat. Screaming, Misplaced References to “Marriage Story”)

“You and your stupid nail biting! It’s all I can hear, all I can think about!”
“At least,” she spat, “I’m not constantly talking about my rock collection.”
Jerome fought back tears. “Eloise, you know my dead brother gave me those rocks.”
There was a long, terrible pause. “Maybe you should just go.”
“I wish I freaking could,” Eloise said, gritting her teeth, “but epidemiologically speaking — you know I can’t leave.”

Stock Anti-Masker Characters

“I think masks are bad,” said the antagonist angrily.
“You are mistaken,” said the love interest knowingly. “Masks are, in fact, good.”

Using Loss of Taste or Smell as a Dramatic Corona-Reveal

“This curry sucks! I can’t taste a thing,” said Bradwick, rolling his eyes.
We exchanged a horrified glance across the table.
“But Bradwick,” said Elizabeth, “it’s extremely spicy.”
The table went silent. We looked at him: his pale countenance, the bead of sweat on his forehead. Then suddenly, the silence was broken: a single dry cough rang through the air.

Quarantine Ennui (Quarantennui, If You Will)

Every day, he woke up in the same comfortable, rent-controlled apartment. He stared at the same wall. He watched the same clock. The days began to blur into each other. He downloaded Animal Crossing. He went to bed. He woke up. He deleted Animal Crossing. He went to bed. He waited.

Self-Quarantine Turns Into “The Yellow Wallpaper”

“There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will.
Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day.
It is always the same shape, a sphere with club-shaped glycoprotein projections, only very numerous.
And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern. I don’t like it a bit. I wonder — I begin to think — I wish I could be done with my mandatory period of quarantine!”

Last Minute Confessions

Before we get sent home because of COVID-19, does anyone want to admit they have a crush on me? Contact ezra.lebovitz@thecrimson.com with any inquiries. Watch out: I am not a catch.

Zoom as Metaphor

I knew we were miles apart, an insoluble barrier. But sometimes, when our cursors were in the same place — it was almost like we were touching.

Dystopias Abound

Day 39. I talked to Scrgeorge* last night, although he is not a member of my Pod. I do not believe I was seen, but I just had to see his face, warped by disease and radiation as it may be. I can only pray I was not tracked by the secret police; known by the underground as “Friends of the Pod” for their rigid and brutal enforcement of social pods after the Great Disease. Scrgeorge says the people have grown restless. It is only a matter of time before a reckoning.

Zoom as Tragedy

“Oh. Oh, fuck.”
“What is it?”
“Diana, I didn’t send that to you. I sent it in — in the public Zoom chat.”

*Editor’s Note: The name “Scrgeorge” was taken from this online fantasy name generator’s results for "George Bush."*

—Staff writer Ezra H. Lebovitz can be reached at ezra.lebovitz@thecrimson.com.