"Little did I know, as I travelled to Madrid in January last year, that the world was about to shut down. It already seems like a different life, as distant and exotic as the age of horse-drawn carriages. We read of this virus spreading - but seemingly contained - in this far-away Chinese province. Thinking back, the virus would already have been spreading undetected in the streets of Madrid even while I was walking around and stuffing myself with churros.

That was my last trip but one. My last one was in February - things were already seeming a bit more alarming by then, but I had a short trip that was too important to cancel and anyway the virus was nowhere near my destination. Or at least that's what I thought at the time.

Barely a week later, countries started locking down, flights getting cancelled, and that was that.

The unfathomability of a lockdown. I remember that, watching Wuhan on TV. Then, a few weeks later, those four or five towns in northern Italy - but again, it was something surreal, unimaginable here. And then when it did hit, we witnessed work collapse. I publish books, and overnight all our sales avenues shut down. Bookshops: closed. Schools and libraries: closed. All those articles, trying to break the endless doomscrolling, about surviving lockdown seem to mention look at the bright side, so here it is: lucky for us, we'd invested in a revamped website and online book ordering setup just over a year before. And that's basically what kept us going.

Book packaging and deliveries in covid times

Just like any other business in the world, we had to radically rethink our entire business model - literally overnight. From a publishing house that just sold maybe a couple of books a month through its website, if that, we went to a setup where we were relying almost entirely on online sales to keep us going and salaries paid. Our ebook platform project was ramped up and launched at the first possible opportunity.

Book deliveries, book packing, tracking orders - the mundane became the backbone.

Some entities did come through, to help. Chief among these, the Book Council - oft maligned (even by me, admittedly) - stepped up with emergency purchases that kept all Maltese publishers going. Individual customers showed their appreciation for what we all do by making "covid book purchases" online through our websites. TV shows helped us out with additional exposure for books.

Of course, focusing all our energies on book packing, delivering, ordering admin, meant that there was precious little time left to work on new books. That, and the seriously depleted cash flow meant that publication dates got shifted, first to "autumn 2020", then when it became clearer we would still not be out of the woods by then, to an indeterminate "2021" release date.

“My last Sangria,” says Chris wistfully

Authors who were looking forward to imminent publication of their books, had to revisit their expectations. New publications that would have increased our sales, likewise got pushed back or at least drastically reduced in number.

We're midway through 2021 and the situation has improved. Of course, we don't even try to compare to "pre-covid" days in terms of sales or reach or titles published. But human nature is nothing if not adaptable and resilient, and new workarounds and realities are emerging. Online book launches: we did those. Virtual book signings: we did those too. An online Book Festival, again courtesy of the indefatigable Book Council: done. One of the saddest things to have had to experience, that. Not because of any lack of effort on the organisers' and exhibitors' part - if anything, everyone gave their 1,000% to make it work, with huge investments of money and time. But a Book Festival is first and foremost a meeting and mingling of booklovers, those walks down the halls resulting in those random lucky book finds. Online just doesn't do that.

I refuse to use the term "new normal", and I might have - erm - unfollowed a couple of people who kept using it on social media. I understand the need to feel that life goes on, to live life and not just survive, but I refuse to see this period as anything but a horrible aberration, as our ancestors would have seen a war or a pestilence. Human nature, as said, is resilient and I've no doubt that once this is over, it will snap back to its former vibe - warts and all.

And we'll be back to complaining about the frenetic pace of our modern lifestyles, about how we'd give anything for a period of quiet, with no social obligations to go to, no work trips to pack for and just some serious downtime on the sofa with a takeout and Netflix.