Storytelling in Action: Personal Narrative

by Ramona Pilar

This isn’t the first time we, as a species on this globe, have experienced an illness that impacts every demographic facet of society. An illness that careens through the bullshit hierarchies and infects indiscriminately. 

This is, however, the first time a new or “novel” virus has emerged during this current era. A new virus for a viral era. And because of all the different outlets we have to communicate to, with, and at each other, there are wealth of experiences and stories being shared. News-wise, there has been some looking to past viral outbreaks – more often than not the 1918 Flu Pandemic – seeking insight or lessons on how to divine the best way out of this current crisis with some degree of sanity and sense of safety.

This led me to wonder about the literature of the time. I couldn’t recall any “Flu Lit” subgenre from around the turn of the 20th century, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. What I did find was that, while it was a major historical occurrence, the Flu didn’t quite find its way into literature in a major way.

Patricia Clifford of the Smithsonian Magazine wrote in November 2017 how very few U.S. writers took on the subject of the 1918 pandemic at that time. She sites instances in various works of literature that reference the pandemic, but not a whole lot of authors wrote specifically about it. The massive illness that “killed more people (between 20-40 million) than World War I didn’t really appear as a major theme in the literature from that era, which is surprising considering the impact on the U.S. population, not to mention the entire world.

It’s possible that the overlap with World War I took some of the thematic spotlight away from the flu. It may be that illness is considered a natural occurrence as opposed to “war” which is more overtly orchestrated and man-made, if you will. Clifford notes that, while the flu may not have been a thematic influence on literature of that time, writers who lived through it, such as Thomas Wolfe, Willa Cather, and Katherine Anne Porter “created accounts that remain vivid in ways a medical journal can never be.”

Jane Ciabattari, a writer for BBC Culture, highlights Katherine Ann Porter’s Pale Horse, Pale Rider in her article The Plague Writers Who Predicted Today. Porter’s narrative is of particular note because shealmost died from influenza virus. “‘I was in some strange way altered,’ she told The Paris Review in a 1963 interview. ‘It took me a long time to go out and live in the world again. I was really ‘alienated’ in the pure sense.’”

Living as we are now, relegated to our homes for preventative measures, required (in some places) to wear masks when embarking on our necessary errands, some folks I’ve spoken to – over Zoom or it’s equivalent, of course – have begun to wonder what life might be like when this particular pandemic subsides. How long might it take to get back to “normal” again? As for me, “after” hasn’t really occurred to me yet. I’m very much in “present” mode primarily out of financial and metaphysical necessity.

I’m also extremely curious as to how others are faring, even though there’s a huge flux of information flowing on social media. I’m curious to know how folks are adapting and innovating. And what kind of calls to action they’re receiving. 

For example, retired Wisconsin teacher Kitty O’Meara wrote a small piece, “I don’t know that I even considered it a poem,” that she posted to Facebook as a means of self-soothing and hopping it would do the same for her friends and family. That poem, beginning with the line “And the People Stayed Home”, resonated with the masses so much it inspired folks to create artwork, create songs and videos for it, and garnered its author a bit of NPR and Oprah Mag fame. 

Calls to action – even seemingly small actions like a quick Facebook post, TikTok, Tweet, Gram or analog pen and paper creation – are one of many tools that can ground us in this moment. They can also document this experience for ourselves, for children and grandchildren (if that’s a road you’ve gone down) and beyond. This is a unique moment for humanity in which all of us are being affected to some degree. There is an audience for one’s voice, now, as much as ever. Let ‘em know you’re awake and watching. 


Mexican-American woman with short black hair, yellow top and red-lipped smile

Ramona Pilar writes plays, prose, songs and hybrids. Her works have been produced and performed around Los Angeles and the Southwestern U.S. and has been published online and in print. She earned an MFA from Antioch University in Los Angeles and currently writes “Storytelling in Action,”a monthly column for Women who Submit. Ramona is California born, Los Angeles (County) raised.