Gillian Polack's Blog, page 125
February 21, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-22T18:32:00
Good things emerge from difficult days. The bathroom and laundry are fixed. The doctor has given me medicine and the immediate awfulness of my three days every three weeks has significantly diminished. There are consequences with me putting up with the pain for so long, though and I have tests and received a scolding.
I was scolded about my eating habits (without being questioned about them first). They aren't to blame, but this is a ritual every doctor goes through before they discover that the combination of hormonal disorders and allergies means that I can diet and actually put on weight. I totally hate it that the idea that women are wrong and overeat is so ingrained in our minds that even when a doctor knows that the woman she is speaking to is perimenopausal, has PCOS, does exercise and has been watching her food intake carefully, that diet is still the first thing to blame.
None of the health side makes much sense yet. I'm too tired to make it make sense. The big thing is that within an hour of the anti-spasmodic kicking in, I was asleep (I have half-done work I mus retrieve!) and I'm still not quite awake. When I'm awake I'll sort out the mystery of putting on so much weight while not putting on any size. I suspect it's mainly due to the muscle stuff, in which case, it will all improve in the next week. I'll find all this out, though, over the next week and after the blood tests.
I'm taking the next few hours off. All sorts of things that I planned for tonight have fallen through, and I shall take this as life's commandment that I need to watch Season 3 of Fringe.
I was scolded about my eating habits (without being questioned about them first). They aren't to blame, but this is a ritual every doctor goes through before they discover that the combination of hormonal disorders and allergies means that I can diet and actually put on weight. I totally hate it that the idea that women are wrong and overeat is so ingrained in our minds that even when a doctor knows that the woman she is speaking to is perimenopausal, has PCOS, does exercise and has been watching her food intake carefully, that diet is still the first thing to blame.
None of the health side makes much sense yet. I'm too tired to make it make sense. The big thing is that within an hour of the anti-spasmodic kicking in, I was asleep (I have half-done work I mus retrieve!) and I'm still not quite awake. When I'm awake I'll sort out the mystery of putting on so much weight while not putting on any size. I suspect it's mainly due to the muscle stuff, in which case, it will all improve in the next week. I'll find all this out, though, over the next week and after the blood tests.
I'm taking the next few hours off. All sorts of things that I planned for tonight have fallen through, and I shall take this as life's commandment that I need to watch Season 3 of Fringe.
February 20, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-21T10:30:00
I'm becoming almost intelligent, I think. I had about 3 hours of things to do outside the home today, but I woke up with pain (thunderstorms quite late yesterday are the main cause) and there are more bushfires around today and I thought "Can they wait a day?" They can and so my messages are now all happening tomorrow. This makes it easier to work around the pain and get all the work done I need to do (for this week everything seems to have deadlines attached). It also means I can work to diminish the pain (even though we're due more storms today) and not have to live with it for longer than I have to.
The big thing that moving a few items to tomorrow gives me is a sense of accomplishment, however. I said I was gaining in intelligence, you note, not actually becoming intelligent. Five items are crossed off my to do list and I feel accomplished, but really, they're still to-be-done.
The good thing is that only five of my remaining items are hefty. I should be able to get everything I need to get done actually finished today.
For my next trick, I shall make my fourth phonecall*.
*I ought to admit that I've crossed four more things off the list simply because they're finished...
The big thing that moving a few items to tomorrow gives me is a sense of accomplishment, however. I said I was gaining in intelligence, you note, not actually becoming intelligent. Five items are crossed off my to do list and I feel accomplished, but really, they're still to-be-done.
The good thing is that only five of my remaining items are hefty. I should be able to get everything I need to get done actually finished today.
For my next trick, I shall make my fourth phonecall*.
*I ought to admit that I've crossed four more things off the list simply because they're finished...
February 19, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-20T13:32:00
After all my fuss about my teaching notes, I left them behind. We worked on creative narratives demonstrating bias* (since the class watched Richard III in my absence) and on how these narratives help create the memory of a thing or person. We also learned how to summarise complex issues in pithy poems (our source material for this were current issues emerging from the Papal crisis, but also from the Great Schism). Word of the day came from a student who wanted to demonstrate how place names manifest in botany.
My Wednesday class used my forgetfulness to rise to great heights, in other words.
*since we'd already written about Richard, they created an evil teacher and a normal teacher and worked out how their poems played on expectations and developed material for the written record. I so hope that I am not known only by the bad teacher version. They were great poems, but they gave an entirely new set of meanings to 'evil.'
My Wednesday class used my forgetfulness to rise to great heights, in other words.
*since we'd already written about Richard, they created an evil teacher and a normal teacher and worked out how their poems played on expectations and developed material for the written record. I so hope that I am not known only by the bad teacher version. They were great poems, but they gave an entirely new set of meanings to 'evil.'
Things I love about visiting Melbourne
1. I can't lose my teaching notes, build an eighteen inch high tower of paper while looking for them, then discover I left them somewhere quite obvious, ready for my next class.
2. I don't have towers of paper to sort.
3. I can't deal with most of my non-urgent emails (meaning I have a bit of a build-up to handle this week).
4. If I don't know what day it is, I can ask someone.
5. Spending time with people who are just as intense as me and even more specialised in their work and being able to get excited about their work and my work without anyone looking at us oddly. (This applies mainly to when I go to conferences.)
6. Meeting people who haven't heard my jokes before. This is quite different to 7, although it should not be, for my jokes are all delectably funny.
7. Being with people who laugh at my jokes (Canberra people either blink very rapidly, groan or pun these days.)
8. Not needing maps to get lost.
9. Being able to say "I don't live here, and I only remember this part of Melbourne the way it was thirty years ago, but if you're willing to risk that, then I suggest..." It's amazing how many tourists discover they have Google maps on their phones at this point.
10. Talking to strangers who are envious of me having gone to pre-school with the fictional youngest daughter from a comic skit that's nearly 3 decades old.
11. Hearing "Gill-i-yan" sung from under the dining room table (this would be my goddaughter, who has an extraordinary understanding of how simple things amuse me).
12. Being with teens.
13. Wondering if immediate family will ask how I am and what I'm doing (my tally this time is one member - last time was three - I want to take bets on this number next time).
14. Making Yarra jokes.
15. Chocolate shopping for Conflux.
2. I don't have towers of paper to sort.
3. I can't deal with most of my non-urgent emails (meaning I have a bit of a build-up to handle this week).
4. If I don't know what day it is, I can ask someone.
5. Spending time with people who are just as intense as me and even more specialised in their work and being able to get excited about their work and my work without anyone looking at us oddly. (This applies mainly to when I go to conferences.)
6. Meeting people who haven't heard my jokes before. This is quite different to 7, although it should not be, for my jokes are all delectably funny.
7. Being with people who laugh at my jokes (Canberra people either blink very rapidly, groan or pun these days.)
8. Not needing maps to get lost.
9. Being able to say "I don't live here, and I only remember this part of Melbourne the way it was thirty years ago, but if you're willing to risk that, then I suggest..." It's amazing how many tourists discover they have Google maps on their phones at this point.
10. Talking to strangers who are envious of me having gone to pre-school with the fictional youngest daughter from a comic skit that's nearly 3 decades old.
11. Hearing "Gill-i-yan" sung from under the dining room table (this would be my goddaughter, who has an extraordinary understanding of how simple things amuse me).
12. Being with teens.
13. Wondering if immediate family will ask how I am and what I'm doing (my tally this time is one member - last time was three - I want to take bets on this number next time).
14. Making Yarra jokes.
15. Chocolate shopping for Conflux.
gillpolack @ 2013-02-19T19:23:00
Yesterday afternoon we got in and discovered that Martin hadn't finished sorting my laundry. Naomi took me out for groceries while he did so. It's now done and I just have to pay him (which will happen in about ten minutes - I tried earlier, but the bank got tangled about my existence, and now that I am for certain a real person, I need to try again). So only parts of my flat are falling around about my ears, and much of it is way more liveable with.
In terms of all the other things I had to do yesterday and the stack of stuff for today, obviously it's not quite there. My start on it was, after all, about four hours later than I expected. I've sorted all the different bits of work I did while I was away and they're ready to move on with. I did my share of Beastly work (which wasn't much, for mine is the lighter load this week) and I've done edits on two of the four items that needed edits. I've done the vast majority of all my emails and just completed my regular weekly job check. Tonight is more Middle Ages and the third of the four editing items and then I'll be where I need to be tonight.
My reading for today is Felicity Pulman's new book, and it's got some of the feel of Ghost Boy, which is my favourite book of hers. I read a chapter and want to visit Norfolk Island.
My Sunday archery class was great. The idea wasn't to learn how to shoot, but to learn what muscle groups are used and what stance. My nephew was very lucid and very informative and made just the right number of jokes. We talked about effects on stance and on skeletons and which fingers were essential and which not. I got to play with two bows (both modern) and to marvel at how light modern arrowheads and arrows are. They're not made to puncture armour - they're made for competition. I now understand why archers sometimes seem to be shooting up at the moon, when obviously that's not where the enemy is. I get just how dangerous longbows are, I think. I need to learn more, obviously, but now I at least understand some basics.
I have an excuse to learn more one day, too - the stance one takes to shoot and the muscles one uses to bring everything together are all muscles that help with asthma. If folkdancing gives me good hip and lower back strength, then archery would give me the upper body strength and control I need.
I'm sure there's more to tell, but all I can think of is the pack of Tim Tams that I totally don't need and that I bought anyway yesterday. I buy Tim Tams for other people, because they're something I eat too easily when they're around. Yesterday, though, the new paint smell was getting to me (I am sensitive to it, which is why the painting was done while I was away) and today it's less bad, but still there. That's why I have my nine Tim Tams, to get me through until the smell dissipates. Martin used a low allergy paint, which is so much better than regular paint that he intends to use it in all his work in future, so it's not bad, but it's still there. It's fading quickly, though - in a couple of days I will be able to ignore Tim Tams with my usual grand aplomb.
And now it's once more unto the breach. Or to the bank account. Or to the Middle Ages. Or all three...
In terms of all the other things I had to do yesterday and the stack of stuff for today, obviously it's not quite there. My start on it was, after all, about four hours later than I expected. I've sorted all the different bits of work I did while I was away and they're ready to move on with. I did my share of Beastly work (which wasn't much, for mine is the lighter load this week) and I've done edits on two of the four items that needed edits. I've done the vast majority of all my emails and just completed my regular weekly job check. Tonight is more Middle Ages and the third of the four editing items and then I'll be where I need to be tonight.
My reading for today is Felicity Pulman's new book, and it's got some of the feel of Ghost Boy, which is my favourite book of hers. I read a chapter and want to visit Norfolk Island.
My Sunday archery class was great. The idea wasn't to learn how to shoot, but to learn what muscle groups are used and what stance. My nephew was very lucid and very informative and made just the right number of jokes. We talked about effects on stance and on skeletons and which fingers were essential and which not. I got to play with two bows (both modern) and to marvel at how light modern arrowheads and arrows are. They're not made to puncture armour - they're made for competition. I now understand why archers sometimes seem to be shooting up at the moon, when obviously that's not where the enemy is. I get just how dangerous longbows are, I think. I need to learn more, obviously, but now I at least understand some basics.
I have an excuse to learn more one day, too - the stance one takes to shoot and the muscles one uses to bring everything together are all muscles that help with asthma. If folkdancing gives me good hip and lower back strength, then archery would give me the upper body strength and control I need.
I'm sure there's more to tell, but all I can think of is the pack of Tim Tams that I totally don't need and that I bought anyway yesterday. I buy Tim Tams for other people, because they're something I eat too easily when they're around. Yesterday, though, the new paint smell was getting to me (I am sensitive to it, which is why the painting was done while I was away) and today it's less bad, but still there. That's why I have my nine Tim Tams, to get me through until the smell dissipates. Martin used a low allergy paint, which is so much better than regular paint that he intends to use it in all his work in future, so it's not bad, but it's still there. It's fading quickly, though - in a couple of days I will be able to ignore Tim Tams with my usual grand aplomb.
And now it's once more unto the breach. Or to the bank account. Or to the Middle Ages. Or all three...
gillpolack @ 2013-02-19T19:00:00
I wrote a blogpost yesterday (at the airport, waiting for my flight to board), but didn't get quiet time until so late at night that I forgot to post it. Here it is for your delectation (I shall post today's items of interest separately, I think):
I’m trying hard to learn how not to work. I was told a few weeks ago that I needed to be just a bit lazier, and so I'm practising by blogging rather than working. I have a giant cup of coffee and I'm right opposite my gate lounge. I have a corner, a table and a nice blast of aircon. I have twenty full minutes. OK, maybe only ten. Still, time, coffee, coolness.
I have a lot waiting for me at home. It's as if everyone knew I was away (well, they did) and promptly sent work. I have to talk to my supervisor about the forms I must fill in with the final of the idiot doctorate, and there is Aurealis work to be done, and edits to a story and to a review and there is a review to be written and there is my place to rediscover, for one of it was hopefully fixed while I was away (the other is to be chased up). I have emails to send to Queensland and a guest blogpost to write. And that's all for today. Everything else can wait until tomorrow, I think. I will even leave the notes I took in Melbourne until tomorrow, for I am the soul of restraint and I never, ever overwork
This morning I finished reading the latest Abbey girls reprint. It's wrong for a woman to be ambitious for herself and if one is so inclined then errors of judgement get made and the results are dire. Perfect selfishness and petulance is always fine, as long as one is senior in the pecking order. And these are the lessons I learned from "Biddy's Secret." The whole folkthing was empowering in so many ways and Oxenham documents that beautifully, but she also documents the terrible sadness of being a woman in a restrictive society. She documents it and promulgates it and celebrates it.
That's all from me. I'm tired of being lazy.
I’m trying hard to learn how not to work. I was told a few weeks ago that I needed to be just a bit lazier, and so I'm practising by blogging rather than working. I have a giant cup of coffee and I'm right opposite my gate lounge. I have a corner, a table and a nice blast of aircon. I have twenty full minutes. OK, maybe only ten. Still, time, coffee, coolness.
I have a lot waiting for me at home. It's as if everyone knew I was away (well, they did) and promptly sent work. I have to talk to my supervisor about the forms I must fill in with the final of the idiot doctorate, and there is Aurealis work to be done, and edits to a story and to a review and there is a review to be written and there is my place to rediscover, for one of it was hopefully fixed while I was away (the other is to be chased up). I have emails to send to Queensland and a guest blogpost to write. And that's all for today. Everything else can wait until tomorrow, I think. I will even leave the notes I took in Melbourne until tomorrow, for I am the soul of restraint and I never, ever overwork
This morning I finished reading the latest Abbey girls reprint. It's wrong for a woman to be ambitious for herself and if one is so inclined then errors of judgement get made and the results are dire. Perfect selfishness and petulance is always fine, as long as one is senior in the pecking order. And these are the lessons I learned from "Biddy's Secret." The whole folkthing was empowering in so many ways and Oxenham documents that beautifully, but she also documents the terrible sadness of being a woman in a restrictive society. She documents it and promulgates it and celebrates it.
That's all from me. I'm tired of being lazy.
February 16, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-17T18:30:00
I'm having a lovely, quiet Sunday. I spent most of the morning working through my conference notes. It took 3 1/2 thousand words and four files, but they're all typed up and ready to use.
Deb Kalin and her tiny offsider dropped in and we talked a great deal. Then my nephew came round to give me basic instruction in archery for writers.
Tonight is all about my goddaughter and her family.
My book for today is Paul Levinson's The Plot to Save Socrates.
There is no more to know! Well, there is but I'm too hot to tell it, and besides, I have a book to read and friends to see and dinner to eat.
Deb Kalin and her tiny offsider dropped in and we talked a great deal. Then my nephew came round to give me basic instruction in archery for writers.
Tonight is all about my goddaughter and her family.
My book for today is Paul Levinson's The Plot to Save Socrates.
There is no more to know! Well, there is but I'm too hot to tell it, and besides, I have a book to read and friends to see and dinner to eat.
10 problems in fiction
It's about time I had a list of ten. These are things I've noticed appear in fiction unexpectedly and unhappily. I'm tempted to offer a prize to anyone who identifies all the sources. Mind you, I'm also tempted to celebrate anyone who adds another ten items to this list. It's a warning to lazy writers.
1. If you need extensive tunnels and caves and exceptionally vast basements under a city, make sure the city is not built on marshland.
2. If a picture inspires a tale and is a strong component of the story, make sure that the story is contemporaneous with the picture.
3. If you depict exotic religions and cultures, remember that they seldom feel exotic to those who grow up within them.
4. If ladies wear corsets, allow for shortness of breath when those ladies run.
5. If a young man wears a belt knife and runs into another young man who also wears a belt knife, injury is not improbable.
6. Do not confuse pounds and shillings with dollars and cents, nor confuse silver pennies from the twetlfth century with the golden coins of later.
7. The UK is not known for its native skunk population.
8. Black swans are quite normal in civiised climes. I've heard rumours, however, that the swans in England are naturally white.
9. Strained dialogue is strained dialogue in any period: making speech sound artifical seldom makes it natural to a period.
10. International trade, colonisalism and medium to large scale industries are not solely modern, nor are England and America the only countries guilty of them.
None of this applies to comic novels, of course, which is why it's a good idea to assume that certain authors are possessed of a subtle and refined wit.
1. If you need extensive tunnels and caves and exceptionally vast basements under a city, make sure the city is not built on marshland.
2. If a picture inspires a tale and is a strong component of the story, make sure that the story is contemporaneous with the picture.
3. If you depict exotic religions and cultures, remember that they seldom feel exotic to those who grow up within them.
4. If ladies wear corsets, allow for shortness of breath when those ladies run.
5. If a young man wears a belt knife and runs into another young man who also wears a belt knife, injury is not improbable.
6. Do not confuse pounds and shillings with dollars and cents, nor confuse silver pennies from the twetlfth century with the golden coins of later.
7. The UK is not known for its native skunk population.
8. Black swans are quite normal in civiised climes. I've heard rumours, however, that the swans in England are naturally white.
9. Strained dialogue is strained dialogue in any period: making speech sound artifical seldom makes it natural to a period.
10. International trade, colonisalism and medium to large scale industries are not solely modern, nor are England and America the only countries guilty of them.
None of this applies to comic novels, of course, which is why it's a good idea to assume that certain authors are possessed of a subtle and refined wit.
February 15, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-16T17:03:00
Today we have smoke, weather change and other sundries and so I am having a quiet day, catching up with things. I had to miss the last few hours of the conference, but still, I did so much, it was worth it.
Today I have just two books to read: Dust by Christine Bongers and The Demon's Surrender, by Sarah Rees Brennan. They're precisely the right books for this weather and moment and I'm reading a bit of one and then a bit of the other and then back to the first, so that they'll both last a bit longer.
About the only useful thing I've done is written up maybe 1/3 of my notes from the conference. it seems I might be a bit busy next week, so writing them up this weekend is essential.
No other news, for none of it is tellable, but there will be. Give me a few weeks.
Today I have just two books to read: Dust by Christine Bongers and The Demon's Surrender, by Sarah Rees Brennan. They're precisely the right books for this weather and moment and I'm reading a bit of one and then a bit of the other and then back to the first, so that they'll both last a bit longer.
About the only useful thing I've done is written up maybe 1/3 of my notes from the conference. it seems I might be a bit busy next week, so writing them up this weekend is essential.
No other news, for none of it is tellable, but there will be. Give me a few weeks.
gillpolack @ 2013-02-15T22:39:00
Mum is getting history through maps and me, I'm unwinding. I skipped this evening's keynote address, for it's in an auditorium that is open (a bit) to the elements and Victoria has bushfires. Each day here I get more ill, for I can't stay indoors as I did in Canberra. Mum gives me lifts where she can, but the campus hosting the conference is set up for Melbourne's mediterranean climate and full of doors and walks outside and stairs. I get clean and cool air every night though, so I start each morning off almost reasonably. I'll get through this summer, but I'm a tad tired of smoke and its side effects.
Now that my requsite whingeing is over, I am full of cheer. This is because I had some good news today. My paper was fine and I have re-read my examiner's comments and have much to think upon. I had a reader's report from another ms to compare with them and I know a great deal more about the relationship between my writing ambitions and what I actually achieve. It's actually good news. I can write (I am so hoping that comment did not provoke laughter). My main problem is still the one I was advised by senior industry people who know my work: my writing is wildly unfashionable. I need to find publishers who want my particular brank of quirk. Eventually the market style will shift, but until then, it's not going to be much chop for my readers. I'm very sorry about this! I can write, though, and there is fiction just waiting...lurking....hiding in the shadows...
In the meantime, my paper was a bit more of my NF proposal. By the end of the month (or maybe a bit into March) that will be looking for a home, since so much of the whole project is done. My mind is exploring its edges right now, and it's a lot of fun. My masterclass students in Queensland will get the whole joy of it first.
I'm all kinds of serious tonight, aren't I? I have good news, too, but it's not final yet and not ready to be made public. I want to type :insert evil laugh here: but I made all sorts of excruciatingly bad jokes during my paper today, so I shan't. I went into my panel serious, but this is such a sober mob of people. Entirely delightful (how could they not be, for they are all Medievalists and Early Moderns) but rather sombre.
Stephen Knight wasn't serious. He was, in fact, full of wit. I've wanted to meet him for almost forever and now I have. I have now met all the people I wanted to meet, including one of my undergrad teachers and several other people from my pasts. One person who was chatting with me said "You're the one with the novels, aren't you?" So this is my new self. At SF events I am the historian and at history events I am the one with the novels. Except when I have chocolate. Which I do. All I have to do is get it to Canberra and Conflux people will point to me as Gillian, the Chocolate Timelord.
I'll answer emails and things soon. I'll be back to what passes for normal soon, too, for I have run out of conferences and papers and chapters owed. I have edits owed, but that's normal.
I suddenly find it strange to have edits owed and not be able to say what for. They're small academic things, though, except the CSFG short story, which I've mentioned. That reminds me: a couple of knowledgable souls have checked my CV. I am employable. The trouble is not me, it's the dearth of jobs. This is worrying, but also comforting.
Now that my requsite whingeing is over, I am full of cheer. This is because I had some good news today. My paper was fine and I have re-read my examiner's comments and have much to think upon. I had a reader's report from another ms to compare with them and I know a great deal more about the relationship between my writing ambitions and what I actually achieve. It's actually good news. I can write (I am so hoping that comment did not provoke laughter). My main problem is still the one I was advised by senior industry people who know my work: my writing is wildly unfashionable. I need to find publishers who want my particular brank of quirk. Eventually the market style will shift, but until then, it's not going to be much chop for my readers. I'm very sorry about this! I can write, though, and there is fiction just waiting...lurking....hiding in the shadows...
In the meantime, my paper was a bit more of my NF proposal. By the end of the month (or maybe a bit into March) that will be looking for a home, since so much of the whole project is done. My mind is exploring its edges right now, and it's a lot of fun. My masterclass students in Queensland will get the whole joy of it first.
I'm all kinds of serious tonight, aren't I? I have good news, too, but it's not final yet and not ready to be made public. I want to type :insert evil laugh here: but I made all sorts of excruciatingly bad jokes during my paper today, so I shan't. I went into my panel serious, but this is such a sober mob of people. Entirely delightful (how could they not be, for they are all Medievalists and Early Moderns) but rather sombre.
Stephen Knight wasn't serious. He was, in fact, full of wit. I've wanted to meet him for almost forever and now I have. I have now met all the people I wanted to meet, including one of my undergrad teachers and several other people from my pasts. One person who was chatting with me said "You're the one with the novels, aren't you?" So this is my new self. At SF events I am the historian and at history events I am the one with the novels. Except when I have chocolate. Which I do. All I have to do is get it to Canberra and Conflux people will point to me as Gillian, the Chocolate Timelord.
I'll answer emails and things soon. I'll be back to what passes for normal soon, too, for I have run out of conferences and papers and chapters owed. I have edits owed, but that's normal.
I suddenly find it strange to have edits owed and not be able to say what for. They're small academic things, though, except the CSFG short story, which I've mentioned. That reminds me: a couple of knowledgable souls have checked my CV. I am employable. The trouble is not me, it's the dearth of jobs. This is worrying, but also comforting.
