Gillian Polack's Blog, page 126
February 13, 2013
Fabulousness
I am a very, very happy little vegemite. My examiners are awesome and wonderful and efficient and gave a bunch of comments that have set me to thinking. My old computer sucked bigtime and put back typos that had been changed three times and I will fix them on my new computer and they will stay fixed (for I will check and check them until they do). And yes, I am PhD pending. I have changes to make, but they are terrifyingly minor. Also, they are almost all due to the idiocy of my old computer and its tendency to change text when files were emailed, which is a bit embarrassing.
Isn't it appropriate that I hear the good news after a night on the town with fellow-Medievalist postgrads!
Thank you, examiners!!!!
Isn't it appropriate that I hear the good news after a night on the town with fellow-Medievalist postgrads!
Thank you, examiners!!!!
February 12, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-12T23:07:00
There are many fewer Medievalist and Early Modernists in Australia and New Zealand than I thought. I suspect cutbacks, but it might be time of year. In other words, ANZAMEMS is no bigger than Conflux. It's easier to be shy in a smaller group, so it's just as well that people are friendly. I did leave after the reception, though, and had a quiet evening with my mother*.
I checked my email before I went out to congregate, however. I'm rather pleased by the editor's comments on an upcoming academic review of mine (he liked it!). That was my last truly coherent moment of the day.
Thanks to a comment by >lj user="highly_eccentric"> I am pondering the codes by which one can clasify Medievalists. Dress code (I break this code, it seems - I explained it's because I dress like an SF writer, but I suspect it's because I dress like Gillian), names (who knows whom and which circles - we had a nice little circle of folks that knew John O Ward at one stage), specialisation (some people classify by period, but the experts in matters monastic defined themselves by order, me, I kept saying "historiography" but it's really narratives and historiography is only a component), and institution. It seems that it's still normal for Australians to identify with one institution, which left me trying to explain that the institution on my label was only partly right and that I was actually at the ANU (but only sort of) and that my primary affiliation was Melbourne Unviersity, but...I should stop saying these things. They're true, but no-one's interested, really, and all it means is that my identity is a lot more tangled in that respect than most people's. It's like trying to explain what I write, but at least I have a nice answer for the fiction. "Speculative fiction" is such a lovely and broad category.
I lost a few minutes of the early part of the program to memories, because they mentioned Leonard Boyle. He would have hated my scholarship, but he was such a lovely man. I keep wondering if part of the almost-ex-pope's proems were based on him not having a Leonard Boyle as his predecesor did.
And then I lost a bit more to internal cogitation, because a lot of the scholarship on display this afternoon provoked thoughts. I think I need to expand the range of one of my chapters in the book-to-be and I finally have a decent title for it.
And I lost even more when I realised that Medievalists have the same propensity for literate puns as spec fic writers. The pleanary this afternoon was call "A Tale of Two Summae," you see. (I need to revisit Aquinas - but when will I find time? So many interesting things to do and so little time! Anyhow, the talk was mainly about Antoninus, and I've not read him and I ought to do that too.) Also, Frater Diabolus needs to appear in my fiction sometime. There are so not enough devils who raid monastic libraries for ideas in my writing.
The plenary was full of useful thoughts, and perhaps one of the best definitions of genre I have seen. This got me thinking about techniques writers use to make their writing internally consistent, for we were shown texts that borrowed from other texts and it struck me that borowing and plagiarism are the easiest ways of doing this. Derivative writing makes a whole bunch of technical aspects of writing easier, I guess, which explains why it appears so very often.
For a good twenty minutes this afternoon I just let the language of medieval scholarship roll past while I analysed it. It's not nearly as different to the language of SF criticism as it used to be. The vocabulary is vastly different, but the concepts, less so. This is why my two worlds aren't so hard to bring together right now, I suspect. I don't know if this is a kind of broad-based cultural discourse, or communities of thought that overlap, or something else entirely.
Now I'm past making sense, which means it's bedtime. If you're very lucky, I will bring you more random and disconnected thoughts tomorrow.
*This is partly because there is just a little bushfire smoke here, which would not be a problem if I hadn't walked two kilometres in it. It all depends on which way the wind is blowing, so mostly I'm fine, but mostly isn't quite good enough. Well, it will pass.
I checked my email before I went out to congregate, however. I'm rather pleased by the editor's comments on an upcoming academic review of mine (he liked it!). That was my last truly coherent moment of the day.
Thanks to a comment by >lj user="highly_eccentric"> I am pondering the codes by which one can clasify Medievalists. Dress code (I break this code, it seems - I explained it's because I dress like an SF writer, but I suspect it's because I dress like Gillian), names (who knows whom and which circles - we had a nice little circle of folks that knew John O Ward at one stage), specialisation (some people classify by period, but the experts in matters monastic defined themselves by order, me, I kept saying "historiography" but it's really narratives and historiography is only a component), and institution. It seems that it's still normal for Australians to identify with one institution, which left me trying to explain that the institution on my label was only partly right and that I was actually at the ANU (but only sort of) and that my primary affiliation was Melbourne Unviersity, but...I should stop saying these things. They're true, but no-one's interested, really, and all it means is that my identity is a lot more tangled in that respect than most people's. It's like trying to explain what I write, but at least I have a nice answer for the fiction. "Speculative fiction" is such a lovely and broad category.
I lost a few minutes of the early part of the program to memories, because they mentioned Leonard Boyle. He would have hated my scholarship, but he was such a lovely man. I keep wondering if part of the almost-ex-pope's proems were based on him not having a Leonard Boyle as his predecesor did.
And then I lost a bit more to internal cogitation, because a lot of the scholarship on display this afternoon provoked thoughts. I think I need to expand the range of one of my chapters in the book-to-be and I finally have a decent title for it.
And I lost even more when I realised that Medievalists have the same propensity for literate puns as spec fic writers. The pleanary this afternoon was call "A Tale of Two Summae," you see. (I need to revisit Aquinas - but when will I find time? So many interesting things to do and so little time! Anyhow, the talk was mainly about Antoninus, and I've not read him and I ought to do that too.) Also, Frater Diabolus needs to appear in my fiction sometime. There are so not enough devils who raid monastic libraries for ideas in my writing.
The plenary was full of useful thoughts, and perhaps one of the best definitions of genre I have seen. This got me thinking about techniques writers use to make their writing internally consistent, for we were shown texts that borrowed from other texts and it struck me that borowing and plagiarism are the easiest ways of doing this. Derivative writing makes a whole bunch of technical aspects of writing easier, I guess, which explains why it appears so very often.
For a good twenty minutes this afternoon I just let the language of medieval scholarship roll past while I analysed it. It's not nearly as different to the language of SF criticism as it used to be. The vocabulary is vastly different, but the concepts, less so. This is why my two worlds aren't so hard to bring together right now, I suspect. I don't know if this is a kind of broad-based cultural discourse, or communities of thought that overlap, or something else entirely.
Now I'm past making sense, which means it's bedtime. If you're very lucky, I will bring you more random and disconnected thoughts tomorrow.
*This is partly because there is just a little bushfire smoke here, which would not be a problem if I hadn't walked two kilometres in it. It all depends on which way the wind is blowing, so mostly I'm fine, but mostly isn't quite good enough. Well, it will pass.
February 11, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-12T11:35:00
It's amazing what a difference small things make. Without the bushfire smoke in the air, I don't have to sleep an extra four hours a day. I didn't allow for this, so I have spent this morning awake and reading just for fun. I brought some extra work to do in Melbourne, but it's mostly already done. And I forgot to contact most of my friends, so they don't know I'm here. I ought to visit museums and walk along riverbanks and window-shop and catch up with people and places. Instead, I borrowed a bunch of books on my mother's library card, and I'm drinking much tea and reading and catching up on just being myself.
My afternoon will be entirely full, and I have no idea what my evening will consist of, but my morning reminds me of when I was a public servant and had free time before work and after work and read three books a day. I will only read two books today, and quite probably average one a day for the time I'm here, so I'm reading about the same amount of fiction as when I'm working solidly, but I'm not writing about any of these novels, or analysing them for arcane purposes. Someone asked me last month whether it was possible to do what I do and still read for fun. Yes, it is. And it's essential. It brings me back into the core of myself and reminds me why I do what I do.
I don't feel as if I wok very hard, usually, but it's nice to slow down from time to time. In fact, I'm so enjoying the slowing down, that I've asked editors if I can get back to them next week. The two editors in question were very nice about it. One is editing a short story, and another an academic review. Gives me something to look forward to, next week!
This afternoon is all about being a Medievalist. The Australian equivalent of Leeds and the Zoo begins in a few hours. Until then, I shall lounge around in my t-shirt (which announces that I am unemployed - it's a relic of my public service days, SBS gave it to me when I was part of a team that was getting rid of typing pools and helping find career paths for junior staff - and is my emergency lounging-around garment) and I shall read another book. The next book in my queue is by Eoin Colfer.
I'm supposed to be working. I have three books to write that are in various stages of disarray. But it's rather fun to lounge around in the morning and attend a conference in the afternoon. I am definitely in sybaritic mode.
My afternoon will be entirely full, and I have no idea what my evening will consist of, but my morning reminds me of when I was a public servant and had free time before work and after work and read three books a day. I will only read two books today, and quite probably average one a day for the time I'm here, so I'm reading about the same amount of fiction as when I'm working solidly, but I'm not writing about any of these novels, or analysing them for arcane purposes. Someone asked me last month whether it was possible to do what I do and still read for fun. Yes, it is. And it's essential. It brings me back into the core of myself and reminds me why I do what I do.
I don't feel as if I wok very hard, usually, but it's nice to slow down from time to time. In fact, I'm so enjoying the slowing down, that I've asked editors if I can get back to them next week. The two editors in question were very nice about it. One is editing a short story, and another an academic review. Gives me something to look forward to, next week!
This afternoon is all about being a Medievalist. The Australian equivalent of Leeds and the Zoo begins in a few hours. Until then, I shall lounge around in my t-shirt (which announces that I am unemployed - it's a relic of my public service days, SBS gave it to me when I was part of a team that was getting rid of typing pools and helping find career paths for junior staff - and is my emergency lounging-around garment) and I shall read another book. The next book in my queue is by Eoin Colfer.
I'm supposed to be working. I have three books to write that are in various stages of disarray. But it's rather fun to lounge around in the morning and attend a conference in the afternoon. I am definitely in sybaritic mode.
writing novels
My evening course on novel writing (more a novel-writers toolkit than a step by step guide, for there are so many types of novels one can write) starts next week. Enrolments need to happen by this Thursday, however, for the ANU is currently deciding if it will go ahead or not. If you're interested or know anyone who might be, the details are here: http://www.anu.edu.au/cce/cecourses/outlines/literature/Writing%20anovelapproach.pdf
February 10, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-11T15:58:00
I didn't lose yesterday, but I was somewhat busy and didn't come online.
It was a perfect day.
I caught an early bus from Southern Cross and was in Gippsland by 11.30 and and spent 24 hours with Janeen and jack. The time went way too quickly. We talked, we ate, we talked some more, I admired the exceptional beauty of the house and its surrounds (and lusted, I fear to admit, after the library, which is the most perfect home library I've ever seen), Bertie admired the exceptional beauty of my fingers and licked them smaller and then plonked himself on my feet so that I would stay where I was put and we talked more and drank tea and talked again. There's a peacefulness about their place, and a very calm beauty, and it lends itself to relaxing and thinking and feeling quiet inside.
I think I needed that twenty-four hours. Jack and Janeen have, between them, managed to blot out the difficulties of the last few months. Friends make the biggest difference to life, always.
It was a perfect day.
I caught an early bus from Southern Cross and was in Gippsland by 11.30 and and spent 24 hours with Janeen and jack. The time went way too quickly. We talked, we ate, we talked some more, I admired the exceptional beauty of the house and its surrounds (and lusted, I fear to admit, after the library, which is the most perfect home library I've ever seen), Bertie admired the exceptional beauty of my fingers and licked them smaller and then plonked himself on my feet so that I would stay where I was put and we talked more and drank tea and talked again. There's a peacefulness about their place, and a very calm beauty, and it lends itself to relaxing and thinking and feeling quiet inside.
I think I needed that twenty-four hours. Jack and Janeen have, between them, managed to blot out the difficulties of the last few months. Friends make the biggest difference to life, always.
February 9, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-09T21:29:00
Today was a day of small glitches and large happinesses. It started with glitches, of course. The biggest is that, no matter what I do, some old versions of my conference paper keep emerging and replacing my revisions. I think all changes (and final fixing up of this) will take place on paper. I have a print out at the ready!
The happinesses included Rachel and Mia (a lift to the airport, which included coffee and wonderful time-with-friends), chatting with friends, an unexpected market trip (Caulfield market is once-a-month and Mum and I caught the last fifteen minutes of it) which resulted in flat peaches, black carrots, three types of bread and much other goodness. Lunch was cheviot sheep's cheese and religious bread and some fresh salad. We went to the library after that, and did window shopping.
I have a new photo for my library. This is the library I use to teach writers and to teach history and for my own research. I now have a 1950s dissecting kit. What's this chain?" I asked Mum. "To dangle body parts."
I have more photos of shadows for the novel-I-have-not-yet-begun.
I have maps to get me to my conference.
And my hair is cut.
The happinesses included Rachel and Mia (a lift to the airport, which included coffee and wonderful time-with-friends), chatting with friends, an unexpected market trip (Caulfield market is once-a-month and Mum and I caught the last fifteen minutes of it) which resulted in flat peaches, black carrots, three types of bread and much other goodness. Lunch was cheviot sheep's cheese and religious bread and some fresh salad. We went to the library after that, and did window shopping.
I have a new photo for my library. This is the library I use to teach writers and to teach history and for my own research. I now have a 1950s dissecting kit. What's this chain?" I asked Mum. "To dangle body parts."
I have more photos of shadows for the novel-I-have-not-yet-begun.
I have maps to get me to my conference.
And my hair is cut.
February 8, 2013
Five things
1. My lists started spawning more lists late last night. I fear an infestation.
2. My handyman has come and gone and taken many notes. I'll keep you posted on what happens.
3. I think I might have a conference paper done. I'm still not entirely happy, but it will do as is, in a pinch.
4. I think I have discovered a new type of cockroach. It looks dead but is not. It is entirely capable of teleportation. It will rule the world after whatever apocalypse we're due next.
5. Do you think if I swapped each item on my list for chocolate, anyone will notice? It's not 8 am yet, after all.
2. My handyman has come and gone and taken many notes. I'll keep you posted on what happens.
3. I think I might have a conference paper done. I'm still not entirely happy, but it will do as is, in a pinch.
4. I think I have discovered a new type of cockroach. It looks dead but is not. It is entirely capable of teleportation. It will rule the world after whatever apocalypse we're due next.
5. Do you think if I swapped each item on my list for chocolate, anyone will notice? It's not 8 am yet, after all.
February 7, 2013
Purim
Purim starts 24 February. I'll make cakes and have alcohol and a spiel and if anyone wants to drop by and enjoy them with me, they will be very welcome. I won't be sending out personal invitations, though, for I don't have time! (It's funny to have a choice between Purim and sending invitations to Purim, but that's the situation)
gillpolack @ 2013-02-08T09:59:00
Another exciting day in the life of Gillian.
My big excitement today is that someone's coming round to sort out the final details about fixing the falling-down-around-my-ears aspects of my flat. He should be here in about ten minutes. Until he comes, I'm working unmethodically through my lists. I ought to be working on the big stuff for the day, but I can't concentrate, so instead I'm doing Big Things like making a cheesecake before the cheese goes off, putting washing away, sorting stuff. I've done some solid work this morning (revising edits, mainly) and all the rest of the work will have to wait until after Mr Robertson has been and gone and I can focus.
I actually don't have a big day's work today, for I'm not writing solidly until I'm certain of my approach and last night I looked at my chapter outline and realised that it needs some work. I did an hour on it and printed it, and it will be my work for tomorrow. I'm determined to find out why my brain will not put these ideas in order instantly!
The work in question is on fiction writers and history and requires moving from history theory to writing practice. It ought to be straightforward, but, really, it isn't. The big issue inside my brain is, I suspect, that writers don't see themselves (mostly) the way I need to describe their work and that historians don't see fiction (mostly) from the direction I'm analysing it. This means I can't lean on the work of others - I have to find the inner logic.
I'm finding that inner logic one step at a time. Right now, I think I haven't explained which chapters relate to world building nor, in fact, do I link research and world building quite early enough. It's a big advance that I'm seeing this, and that means that I should be up to writing quite soon. When I have two chapters, then I can send a proposal off to a publisher, for rejection (which means I need to think more about which publishers would actually want a work like this one).
Oftentimes I will write without a really clear outline, for my brain does tend to sort things, but this is not one of those times. If I'm breaking new ground, then I need a marvellously high level of clarity and I need to get the sequencing right. I need to sort out the tone (which right now is a gorgeous patchwork of inconsistency) and I also need to make it clear that there's a difference between evoking the past using careful language and writing about the past in a genre and how either or both of those relate to the work historians do. I need to make it clear enough so that writers can use the techniques I describe and so that other people in my field can see the relationships.
It is a very Gillianish reason for not having as long a day as expected, isn't it?
My big excitement today is that someone's coming round to sort out the final details about fixing the falling-down-around-my-ears aspects of my flat. He should be here in about ten minutes. Until he comes, I'm working unmethodically through my lists. I ought to be working on the big stuff for the day, but I can't concentrate, so instead I'm doing Big Things like making a cheesecake before the cheese goes off, putting washing away, sorting stuff. I've done some solid work this morning (revising edits, mainly) and all the rest of the work will have to wait until after Mr Robertson has been and gone and I can focus.
I actually don't have a big day's work today, for I'm not writing solidly until I'm certain of my approach and last night I looked at my chapter outline and realised that it needs some work. I did an hour on it and printed it, and it will be my work for tomorrow. I'm determined to find out why my brain will not put these ideas in order instantly!
The work in question is on fiction writers and history and requires moving from history theory to writing practice. It ought to be straightforward, but, really, it isn't. The big issue inside my brain is, I suspect, that writers don't see themselves (mostly) the way I need to describe their work and that historians don't see fiction (mostly) from the direction I'm analysing it. This means I can't lean on the work of others - I have to find the inner logic.
I'm finding that inner logic one step at a time. Right now, I think I haven't explained which chapters relate to world building nor, in fact, do I link research and world building quite early enough. It's a big advance that I'm seeing this, and that means that I should be up to writing quite soon. When I have two chapters, then I can send a proposal off to a publisher, for rejection (which means I need to think more about which publishers would actually want a work like this one).
Oftentimes I will write without a really clear outline, for my brain does tend to sort things, but this is not one of those times. If I'm breaking new ground, then I need a marvellously high level of clarity and I need to get the sequencing right. I need to sort out the tone (which right now is a gorgeous patchwork of inconsistency) and I also need to make it clear that there's a difference between evoking the past using careful language and writing about the past in a genre and how either or both of those relate to the work historians do. I need to make it clear enough so that writers can use the techniques I describe and so that other people in my field can see the relationships.
It is a very Gillianish reason for not having as long a day as expected, isn't it?
February 6, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-02-07T10:23:00
Today is wildly exciting. I'm emptying my bathroom and laundry and finishing up my conference paper. There is watermelon to eat. I have paperwork to do, as well. Paperwork! My life is roly-poly and hurley-burley and everything exciting.
