Gillian Polack's Blog, page 131
January 4, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-01-05T13:20:00
Today is a little warm. The Bureau claims it will be 39 degrees, but it's already been above 37, so it will either be much hotter still, or we'll get a change. The Bureau also says "no change for days" and the band that has brought cooler weather to the south has missed us (or has tried to) so this is possible. I'm less worried by the heat than I was, however, for I now have salad vegies and fruit and, what's more, I discovered that most of the symptoms I'd put down to reactions to the heat were actually my virus from the New year. It hasn't quite gone. If I need to take medicines and sleep, they will (and are) doing good. It's very odd that this virus was nasty and lingering, though - you'd think summer would scare it away.
There are things of more interest than the heat and the state of my health, but except for the fact that I have rather good cream for my coffee this weekend I bought it for visiting friends, and then the friends didn't visit and now it needs finishing) nothing comes to mind. I might send a search party out for said mind later on, or I might go back to my key activity today, which is watching old musicals. I may need to sleep most of the day, but I am determined to enjoy the hours I'm awake and not working.
ETA: It hit 40 20 minutes ago. I so deserve coffee! Tomorrow I shall make a big jug of iced tea to see me through, I think. It's not just the heat that's the problem in Canberra (other places get much hotter, and, in fact, I've kept my key rooms under 30 degrees) it's the fact that it was under 15 degrees last night and I react to big temperature shifts outside. In a couple of weeks my body will be used to it, but today, things hurt a bit. Coffee! (My favourite phrase of Japanese is "Watashi wa kohi nga totemo seki desu.")
There are things of more interest than the heat and the state of my health, but except for the fact that I have rather good cream for my coffee this weekend I bought it for visiting friends, and then the friends didn't visit and now it needs finishing) nothing comes to mind. I might send a search party out for said mind later on, or I might go back to my key activity today, which is watching old musicals. I may need to sleep most of the day, but I am determined to enjoy the hours I'm awake and not working.
ETA: It hit 40 20 minutes ago. I so deserve coffee! Tomorrow I shall make a big jug of iced tea to see me through, I think. It's not just the heat that's the problem in Canberra (other places get much hotter, and, in fact, I've kept my key rooms under 30 degrees) it's the fact that it was under 15 degrees last night and I react to big temperature shifts outside. In a couple of weeks my body will be used to it, but today, things hurt a bit. Coffee! (My favourite phrase of Japanese is "Watashi wa kohi nga totemo seki desu.")
gillpolack @ 2013-01-04T19:59:00
I haven't actually managed to waste today yet. I've finished the reading I needed to do, and I had a lovely afternoon chatting with a friend (who brought me my Time Lord present to myself, which I can't wear until the PhD examination is complete and I am confirmed in my timelordliness) and since then I have done nothing but nap and complain about the heat.
Most of us are complaining about the heat, for it's the first real summer day in Canberra. It was 37 degrees, and it still 32 degrees at 8 pm. Tomorrow will be hotter, alas.
It will cool off overnight and I shall finish my working day when it does. That working day consists of many words, for I have 5,000 to get from one place to another by tomorrow night and they're planned, but not written.
In the meantime, dinner now includes vegies, thanks to some help from Rachel (for I was entirely out of fruit and vegies) and it only 15 minutes of cooking. Quinoa with baby spinach and a little tabasco, served with chicken korma (the latter from my emergency freezer stash - it's too hot to spend more than 15 mins cooking, but I still need one solid meal a day).
One day there'll be interesting news. Today all my news is research-related and needs to be written up. Some of that is quite funny, however, and friends who ring me or see me on Twitter of FB tend to get snippets of daftness. I am now sponging all the daftness from my being, for I need to write things up seriously.
Most of us are complaining about the heat, for it's the first real summer day in Canberra. It was 37 degrees, and it still 32 degrees at 8 pm. Tomorrow will be hotter, alas.
It will cool off overnight and I shall finish my working day when it does. That working day consists of many words, for I have 5,000 to get from one place to another by tomorrow night and they're planned, but not written.
In the meantime, dinner now includes vegies, thanks to some help from Rachel (for I was entirely out of fruit and vegies) and it only 15 minutes of cooking. Quinoa with baby spinach and a little tabasco, served with chicken korma (the latter from my emergency freezer stash - it's too hot to spend more than 15 mins cooking, but I still need one solid meal a day).
One day there'll be interesting news. Today all my news is research-related and needs to be written up. Some of that is quite funny, however, and friends who ring me or see me on Twitter of FB tend to get snippets of daftness. I am now sponging all the daftness from my being, for I need to write things up seriously.
January 3, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-01-03T20:51:00
Hi everyone. I appear to be here (DW). If cross-posting works and if the importing of everything works (so far, no success) then you'll see more of me here. Otherwise, maybe not.
Now I must get back to work. I have 600 pages to close-read and annotate before I can go to sleep, and it's nearly 9 pm.
Now I must get back to work. I have 600 pages to close-read and annotate before I can go to sleep, and it's nearly 9 pm.
January 2, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-01-03T17:06:00
The negative: I'm emerging from my period of afternoon grump, which means the day is about to cool down a little. This is the advantage of living in Canberra, most days will cool down eventually. Yesterday cooled down early and was almost perfect overnight, and I'm hoping for the same tonight. This is hope rather than reality, however, as it wasn't this hot at this hour yesterday.
The neutral: One of my big tasks today was (with the help of a friend) sorting out my new computer. There's still one decision to be made (multifunction printers are not so straightforward, it appears), but then it's all ordered and I should get it next week sometime. This means I have to finish all my deadlines precisely on time, and sort myself out for the changeover to boot. Since I'm still not quite over that nasty NY virus, the extra pressure will be good for keeping me on track. It will mean that I won't dig myself into holes by asking for extensions when I have consistently solid workloads for the next two months. I don't want to turn 'consistently solid' into overwork! I have 30 must-finish items for this month - if I can get a minimum of ten and hopefully fifteen done by next Tuesday, I'll be fine.
The positively delightful: A friend helped me sort out the gap in my teaching materials left by the burgulation. She didn't just talk me through things, she went out and found what I needed and posted it to me from Germany. I may be mean to archaeologists in my fiction, but they are awesome and wonderful in real life, especially Katrin. I now have more stuff, better stuff, and German gingerbread*.
The parcel arrived today. Some of it is actual Medieval (the sherds!), much of it is careful reproduction of known finds, and the rest you can work out for yourself. I've not had the opportunity to handle bits of pot before (being a manuscript person living on the wrong side of the world) and it's very exciting. What's more exciting is that all this is mine, from the bits of pots through to the striker and flint. When we reach a time of no fire bans, I am happy to have help making fire, Medieval-style.
*She included Chanukah presents in the parcel. Spot the not-quite-authentic and you'll see what she gave me.
The neutral: One of my big tasks today was (with the help of a friend) sorting out my new computer. There's still one decision to be made (multifunction printers are not so straightforward, it appears), but then it's all ordered and I should get it next week sometime. This means I have to finish all my deadlines precisely on time, and sort myself out for the changeover to boot. Since I'm still not quite over that nasty NY virus, the extra pressure will be good for keeping me on track. It will mean that I won't dig myself into holes by asking for extensions when I have consistently solid workloads for the next two months. I don't want to turn 'consistently solid' into overwork! I have 30 must-finish items for this month - if I can get a minimum of ten and hopefully fifteen done by next Tuesday, I'll be fine.
The positively delightful: A friend helped me sort out the gap in my teaching materials left by the burgulation. She didn't just talk me through things, she went out and found what I needed and posted it to me from Germany. I may be mean to archaeologists in my fiction, but they are awesome and wonderful in real life, especially Katrin. I now have more stuff, better stuff, and German gingerbread*.
The parcel arrived today. Some of it is actual Medieval (the sherds!), much of it is careful reproduction of known finds, and the rest you can work out for yourself. I've not had the opportunity to handle bits of pot before (being a manuscript person living on the wrong side of the world) and it's very exciting. What's more exciting is that all this is mine, from the bits of pots through to the striker and flint. When we reach a time of no fire bans, I am happy to have help making fire, Medieval-style.
*She included Chanukah presents in the parcel. Spot the not-quite-authentic and you'll see what she gave me.
gillpolack @ 2013-01-03T00:44:00
All my different non-fiction projects - a chapter here, a paper there, a book in another corner, some research a decade ago - are coming together as parts of something I didn't know I was working on. My work on gendered narrative fits in, as does the historiography that seems to infest my soul. Each time I pick up a piece of work, it becomes another piece in the jigsaw.
How can one work on something this big for over a decade and not realise it?
I think this might be the non-Beast book I'm contemplating writing, but it's changing a bit and developing more focus, so I might have to just keep on working until I find out more. It's changing the way I teach writers about history and turning up all kinds of effective tools for writers who want to world build using the past and known (or half-known) societies, but that's a side effect. What I'm really doing is bringing my various disciplines together and using them to explain how we write fiction about our pasts and how we write history about our pasts and how we tell tales of all sorts and why those tales are important and how we shape our reality using this awareness and interpretation of what we think of as history.
It's immense fun, but it leaves me very impatient with writers who don't do what they need to in order to create credible narratives using shared understanding. I still enjoy fiction that creates flawed realities or incomplete realities, but I am developing a marked distaste for fiction that is unconvincing simply because the writer is lazy in thinking things through. I want to walk these writers through their own assumptions and show them how, with a little more effort, they can create a great deal more magic.
Two odd side-effects of my work. Unsurprising, really, because all my thinking is about narrative right now, in one form or another (why I want to teach literature and creative writing, in a perfect world) and I enjoy reading speculative fiction so very much that it's only natural I will apply my thoughts to genre writing and genre writers.
Right now I have to apply my thoughts to going to sleep. I don't want to: it's a comforting twelve degrees outside and tomorrow's going to be hot. I have to finish the groundwork for my current essay tomorrow, however, and I have more messages to run, so I can't stay up all night enjoying the cool.
How can one work on something this big for over a decade and not realise it?
I think this might be the non-Beast book I'm contemplating writing, but it's changing a bit and developing more focus, so I might have to just keep on working until I find out more. It's changing the way I teach writers about history and turning up all kinds of effective tools for writers who want to world build using the past and known (or half-known) societies, but that's a side effect. What I'm really doing is bringing my various disciplines together and using them to explain how we write fiction about our pasts and how we write history about our pasts and how we tell tales of all sorts and why those tales are important and how we shape our reality using this awareness and interpretation of what we think of as history.
It's immense fun, but it leaves me very impatient with writers who don't do what they need to in order to create credible narratives using shared understanding. I still enjoy fiction that creates flawed realities or incomplete realities, but I am developing a marked distaste for fiction that is unconvincing simply because the writer is lazy in thinking things through. I want to walk these writers through their own assumptions and show them how, with a little more effort, they can create a great deal more magic.
Two odd side-effects of my work. Unsurprising, really, because all my thinking is about narrative right now, in one form or another (why I want to teach literature and creative writing, in a perfect world) and I enjoy reading speculative fiction so very much that it's only natural I will apply my thoughts to genre writing and genre writers.
Right now I have to apply my thoughts to going to sleep. I don't want to: it's a comforting twelve degrees outside and tomorrow's going to be hot. I have to finish the groundwork for my current essay tomorrow, however, and I have more messages to run, so I can't stay up all night enjoying the cool.
January 1, 2013
gillpolack @ 2013-01-02T14:36:00
I need a list of ten today.
1. I went to the library, the chemist and did some essential shopping before the day got hot. It was still under 30 degrees when I got home. This is worldshaking news.
2. I will be teaching a workshop at Conflux. I'll announce the details when they're released.
3. I have the first and probably the second argument for the paper I'm writing. I still need 3-4 more, and they need to link to the first two, but it's all much easier when I have an approach. I get to explain modern Medievalism using narrative theory, if all goes well.
4. I ran into a Jewish friend at the shops today and it seems that lots of people also wished her Happy Chanukah a week after it ended. I am therefore giving in to temptation and would like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.
5. On Twitter @IndigenousX is raising money for literacy (through the Indigenous Literacy Foundation). It was intended as a private gesture by Luke Pearson, but there's so much support for it from all kinds of places that it is ballooning splendidly (Luke Pearson is currently my hero, but don't tell him that). What they need now is to reach 10,000 followers in the next day, as some donations are tied to this goal.
6. 2013 appears to be the year I rediscover politics. My considered opinion, therefore, is that Tony Abbott and Joe Hockey are demonstrating a culture of bullying and are encouraging it in Australia.
7. It appears that some people need reminding that I didn't have children because I couldn't*, not because I didn't want them. I don't normally make a fuss about it because I refuse to spin my life around something that couldn't happen. I can't climb Mt Everest, either. It is not the end of the universe, just a sadness. Also, neither being childless or being unable to climb Mr Everest make me a second class citizen.
8. I have PMT. Again. I've decided to be sarcastic and see if the sarcasm derails the temper tantrums**. My actual non-PMT personality is charming and equitable and the temper tantrums really annoy me. They really annoy my friends, too, I suspect. I don't like the temper tantrums. I don't like PMT. Also, the next male who says they're going through a male menopause gets all my symptoms: this includes 7 days of period and 10 days of PMT in a 21 day cycle. And the migraines. All the migraines.
9. I found some baby mirrors for anyone dealing with ant infestations. I can bring them to Melbourne in February, Brisbane in March and to Conflux in April should anyone need them I haven't tested their effectiveness, but I have no ants this year.
10. I put the Mirror away after several friends said the reason they weren't staying with me was because it was in the library and they would not share a bedroom with it. Honestly, it's not nearly as scary as the one in the book. Just one tiny incident when I was a child... Wimps. Anyhow, it's away, so friends need to find other reasons to not visit.
*Yep, I've been getting the comments again. Not from any of my close friends. The people in question were trying to justify stuff they hadn't done. This is another facet of bullying culture: shifting responsibility because "If you had chosen to have children, you would not have finished the stuff you promised either" doesn't actually excuse the person for not having done the thing unless the blame is mine for existing. I'd apparently be fine and almost socially acceptable if I just sat and took it. I suspect 2013 is the year I'm me, rather than the year I'm almost socially acceptable.
**It certainly derails my capacity to be funny!
1. I went to the library, the chemist and did some essential shopping before the day got hot. It was still under 30 degrees when I got home. This is worldshaking news.
2. I will be teaching a workshop at Conflux. I'll announce the details when they're released.
3. I have the first and probably the second argument for the paper I'm writing. I still need 3-4 more, and they need to link to the first two, but it's all much easier when I have an approach. I get to explain modern Medievalism using narrative theory, if all goes well.
4. I ran into a Jewish friend at the shops today and it seems that lots of people also wished her Happy Chanukah a week after it ended. I am therefore giving in to temptation and would like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.
5. On Twitter @IndigenousX is raising money for literacy (through the Indigenous Literacy Foundation). It was intended as a private gesture by Luke Pearson, but there's so much support for it from all kinds of places that it is ballooning splendidly (Luke Pearson is currently my hero, but don't tell him that). What they need now is to reach 10,000 followers in the next day, as some donations are tied to this goal.
6. 2013 appears to be the year I rediscover politics. My considered opinion, therefore, is that Tony Abbott and Joe Hockey are demonstrating a culture of bullying and are encouraging it in Australia.
7. It appears that some people need reminding that I didn't have children because I couldn't*, not because I didn't want them. I don't normally make a fuss about it because I refuse to spin my life around something that couldn't happen. I can't climb Mt Everest, either. It is not the end of the universe, just a sadness. Also, neither being childless or being unable to climb Mr Everest make me a second class citizen.
8. I have PMT. Again. I've decided to be sarcastic and see if the sarcasm derails the temper tantrums**. My actual non-PMT personality is charming and equitable and the temper tantrums really annoy me. They really annoy my friends, too, I suspect. I don't like the temper tantrums. I don't like PMT. Also, the next male who says they're going through a male menopause gets all my symptoms: this includes 7 days of period and 10 days of PMT in a 21 day cycle. And the migraines. All the migraines.
9. I found some baby mirrors for anyone dealing with ant infestations. I can bring them to Melbourne in February, Brisbane in March and to Conflux in April should anyone need them I haven't tested their effectiveness, but I have no ants this year.
10. I put the Mirror away after several friends said the reason they weren't staying with me was because it was in the library and they would not share a bedroom with it. Honestly, it's not nearly as scary as the one in the book. Just one tiny incident when I was a child... Wimps. Anyhow, it's away, so friends need to find other reasons to not visit.
*Yep, I've been getting the comments again. Not from any of my close friends. The people in question were trying to justify stuff they hadn't done. This is another facet of bullying culture: shifting responsibility because "If you had chosen to have children, you would not have finished the stuff you promised either" doesn't actually excuse the person for not having done the thing unless the blame is mine for existing. I'd apparently be fine and almost socially acceptable if I just sat and took it. I suspect 2013 is the year I'm me, rather than the year I'm almost socially acceptable.
**It certainly derails my capacity to be funny!
December 31, 2012
gillpolack @ 2013-01-01T13:45:00
I am sorted! All the material I need for one paper is in one pile and all the material I need for another is in another pile entirely, and the Aurealis novels are all stacked and entered onto the spreadsheet and all the Aurealis short stories now share a cosy hamper. Such a simple summary for such a lot of hunting and hard work. Mind you, I also have an outline for the first paper and a method for the second. And I have five days to deal with the worst of everything that's not Aurealis. That is my signal, I think, for putting the coffee pot on.
2012 Retrospective
Some years are bigger than others. I've had several of those in a row, but this year more so than most. I'm still on an emotional rollercoaster, for life is not yet balanced. I nearly lost my eyesight (again) and I was burgled while the hospital was dealing with it. I had major dental work done (months of it), and I dealt with several nasty incidents (the vast majority of which I did not blog about) and my book was published by Momentum. I was given a scholarship, and I submitted my doctorate. I went on camp and gave a bunch of talks and lectures and workshops and had a whole slew of items accepted for publication, most of which will appear in 2013.
2012 was the year when I discovered I'm scary. Five adults have independently attested this, so it must be true. Mind you, a lot more adults have commented "You're very funny" and as many children have adopted me as a Preferred Person over the same period of time. I scare adults, but six year old children cuddle up on my lap and won't let me go.
Month by month (with a sentence from blog entries for each month, because I can)
January: "One of my publishers just described my last week so perfectly: she pointed out that the elephants have stampeded and now the ants are swarming."
January was about the redemption of promises. Not just explaining the Zombie Ancestry Theory. I also acted educated and even taught an online course for the Australian Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Association. I don't know what was wrong with me last January, but I have since recovered and currently only sometimes act educated. I lost a friend just before Christmas and January was (to be honest) mainly about sorting out that he really was gone. Every friend and relative I lose leaves their own person-shaped hole in my heart.
February: "More people seem to get the idea that I love books and enjoy writing about them."
You know, apart from the various crises and study and teaching, this was pretty much my whole month.
March: "I learned the hard way that it's not very rational to spend all one's life promoting the needs of others, and, in the process fail to achieve one's own dreams."
Women's History Month - guest blog posts about extraordinary women, starting with Anita Heiss and ending with Samantha Faulkner. I never mentioned numbers at the time, but each post as read (on average) well over a thousand times. My guests rocked, and so did their subject matter! There's a list of them here, for anyone who's missed out or who wants to revisit a post.
Paul Haines died. This was expected, but no less tragic and no less of a loss for knowing how hard he had been fighting. Paul left the fifth person-shaped hole in my heart for the year. There were too many deaths, too many people I love who are no longer here. Fourteen in one year. And I miss them all and will always miss them.
Also, March was the start of my brand new version of funky vision. I still get spiders dancing across my right eye when I'm tired or stressed. Which I was, in March, for I came home from the hospital to find my place a mess from a rather nasty burglar. I'm still dealing with insurance stuff from that.
April: "Life for me is still about stories. Each time a story ends, a bit of me is gone. Each time there are new stories, I grow."
April was when I properly reclaimed my research soul. I never lost it, to be honest, but I started admitting publicly how central it was to my existence. I also gave into a migraine dream and defined what I mean by 'robust criticism.' I reported on a meeting at Parliament House (not having escaped my past selves quite as entirely as I had thought). I cooked a lot.
May: "It's schoolyard analysis, to determine who someone is and to make that someone live the stereotype: it's creating in groups and out groups and defining oneself as a group maker."
The month of taxes and roast chestnuts and much, much writing.
June: "Today the weather and I are carefully articulating our battle positions." The skirmishes between us lasted the whole month, and the war never quite finished. The rest of the month was all about dissertation (and my brand-new scholarship!), and planning Ms Cellophane and, of course, Continuum.
July: " My level of high seriousness has been noted."
The month of Cellophane! Also, I was part of a team that not only wrote a (small) book in a day, but were awarded commendations for said book. That was the day I broke my finger, and somewhat tiring, all in all. Also, members of the Twitter and Facebook public complained I wasn't making as many bad jokes as I should.
August: "Twenty-one books are facing a small moment of minor truth."
This is the month I discovered that, with my usual good fortune, the bottom had fallen out of the academic job market just as I was entering it (again). I bought a lovely new handbag that looked as if it would survive my harsh treatment of handbags (but it hasn't). I got to see opera in the Gong. And Danny Oz won the Ms Cellophane competition with an unbeatable photograph demonstrating his dedication to reading my writing.
September: "I'm amused that I looked at my nightmare while I was in the middle of it and said to it "Your focus is wrong, you know. You can do better than that.""
September was mostly a steady-as-she-goes month (with Conflux as a bonus and me singing in Latin there as a bonus on the bonus). The bad news I don't want to revisit, and the good news will re-appear at an appropriate moment. For those who need something sweet, however, I did post my grandmother's honeycake recipe: http://gillpolack.livejournal.com/1075212.html
October: "My useful thought for the day is to look at my TV viewing and count the number of women and count the number of men and work out (by simple numbers) what that tells me about women's place in society."
The month I submitted the doctorate. An idiot torched a car in our block of flats. I attended (and enjoyed) CoyoteCon. I was taken to see Pirates of Penzance and my favourite Mabel will forever be that one, male and innocent and very intense. I upset a couple of friends by posting a picture of Smurf-flavoured icecream.
November: "Bogong moths keep drowning themselves in my sink. What's so attractive about my sink? I stare at the dirty dishes"
This is the month I realised I was Schrödinger's Gillian.
I taught (nothing new there). I caught up on everything I'd put off because of the PhD. I spent many evenings in the Middle Ages. I contemplated the shape of Home. I read many, many books, some of which were for the Aurealis awards. Most important of all, I started dancing again.
December: "My big insight for this term is that quite a few writers (at various levels of experience) are quite happy to splatter blood everywhere or create a zombie-infested rainforest, but they want the core characters to be nice and, ideally, a perfected version of themselves."
Why don't I remember what happened in the month that finished two hours ago?
What do I want from 2013? A job as a lecturer would be nice, as would more publications. Fewer crises is unlikely, but would also be desirable. More time with friends. More finishing up of the big projects I've been working on in between doctorates and teaching. More health*. And all the good things my friends need, to happen to them forthwith and without drama.
*Menopause! I want menopause in 2013!!
2012 was the year when I discovered I'm scary. Five adults have independently attested this, so it must be true. Mind you, a lot more adults have commented "You're very funny" and as many children have adopted me as a Preferred Person over the same period of time. I scare adults, but six year old children cuddle up on my lap and won't let me go.
Month by month (with a sentence from blog entries for each month, because I can)
January: "One of my publishers just described my last week so perfectly: she pointed out that the elephants have stampeded and now the ants are swarming."
January was about the redemption of promises. Not just explaining the Zombie Ancestry Theory. I also acted educated and even taught an online course for the Australian Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Association. I don't know what was wrong with me last January, but I have since recovered and currently only sometimes act educated. I lost a friend just before Christmas and January was (to be honest) mainly about sorting out that he really was gone. Every friend and relative I lose leaves their own person-shaped hole in my heart.
February: "More people seem to get the idea that I love books and enjoy writing about them."
You know, apart from the various crises and study and teaching, this was pretty much my whole month.
March: "I learned the hard way that it's not very rational to spend all one's life promoting the needs of others, and, in the process fail to achieve one's own dreams."
Women's History Month - guest blog posts about extraordinary women, starting with Anita Heiss and ending with Samantha Faulkner. I never mentioned numbers at the time, but each post as read (on average) well over a thousand times. My guests rocked, and so did their subject matter! There's a list of them here, for anyone who's missed out or who wants to revisit a post.
Paul Haines died. This was expected, but no less tragic and no less of a loss for knowing how hard he had been fighting. Paul left the fifth person-shaped hole in my heart for the year. There were too many deaths, too many people I love who are no longer here. Fourteen in one year. And I miss them all and will always miss them.
Also, March was the start of my brand new version of funky vision. I still get spiders dancing across my right eye when I'm tired or stressed. Which I was, in March, for I came home from the hospital to find my place a mess from a rather nasty burglar. I'm still dealing with insurance stuff from that.
April: "Life for me is still about stories. Each time a story ends, a bit of me is gone. Each time there are new stories, I grow."
April was when I properly reclaimed my research soul. I never lost it, to be honest, but I started admitting publicly how central it was to my existence. I also gave into a migraine dream and defined what I mean by 'robust criticism.' I reported on a meeting at Parliament House (not having escaped my past selves quite as entirely as I had thought). I cooked a lot.
May: "It's schoolyard analysis, to determine who someone is and to make that someone live the stereotype: it's creating in groups and out groups and defining oneself as a group maker."
The month of taxes and roast chestnuts and much, much writing.
June: "Today the weather and I are carefully articulating our battle positions." The skirmishes between us lasted the whole month, and the war never quite finished. The rest of the month was all about dissertation (and my brand-new scholarship!), and planning Ms Cellophane and, of course, Continuum.
July: " My level of high seriousness has been noted."
The month of Cellophane! Also, I was part of a team that not only wrote a (small) book in a day, but were awarded commendations for said book. That was the day I broke my finger, and somewhat tiring, all in all. Also, members of the Twitter and Facebook public complained I wasn't making as many bad jokes as I should.
August: "Twenty-one books are facing a small moment of minor truth."
This is the month I discovered that, with my usual good fortune, the bottom had fallen out of the academic job market just as I was entering it (again). I bought a lovely new handbag that looked as if it would survive my harsh treatment of handbags (but it hasn't). I got to see opera in the Gong. And Danny Oz won the Ms Cellophane competition with an unbeatable photograph demonstrating his dedication to reading my writing.
September: "I'm amused that I looked at my nightmare while I was in the middle of it and said to it "Your focus is wrong, you know. You can do better than that.""
September was mostly a steady-as-she-goes month (with Conflux as a bonus and me singing in Latin there as a bonus on the bonus). The bad news I don't want to revisit, and the good news will re-appear at an appropriate moment. For those who need something sweet, however, I did post my grandmother's honeycake recipe: http://gillpolack.livejournal.com/1075212.html
October: "My useful thought for the day is to look at my TV viewing and count the number of women and count the number of men and work out (by simple numbers) what that tells me about women's place in society."
The month I submitted the doctorate. An idiot torched a car in our block of flats. I attended (and enjoyed) CoyoteCon. I was taken to see Pirates of Penzance and my favourite Mabel will forever be that one, male and innocent and very intense. I upset a couple of friends by posting a picture of Smurf-flavoured icecream.
November: "Bogong moths keep drowning themselves in my sink. What's so attractive about my sink? I stare at the dirty dishes"
This is the month I realised I was Schrödinger's Gillian.
I taught (nothing new there). I caught up on everything I'd put off because of the PhD. I spent many evenings in the Middle Ages. I contemplated the shape of Home. I read many, many books, some of which were for the Aurealis awards. Most important of all, I started dancing again.
December: "My big insight for this term is that quite a few writers (at various levels of experience) are quite happy to splatter blood everywhere or create a zombie-infested rainforest, but they want the core characters to be nice and, ideally, a perfected version of themselves."
Why don't I remember what happened in the month that finished two hours ago?
What do I want from 2013? A job as a lecturer would be nice, as would more publications. Fewer crises is unlikely, but would also be desirable. More time with friends. More finishing up of the big projects I've been working on in between doctorates and teaching. More health*. And all the good things my friends need, to happen to them forthwith and without drama.
*Menopause! I want menopause in 2013!!
December 30, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-12-31T14:05:00
Well, I've finished the Aurealis novels (unless the post brings a last few in the NY). What's very clear this year is how conservative publishers are. So many of them are choosing fantasy novels that are set in this world, but with hidden alternate societies and magics. I suspect that this is the modern version of the portal fantasy, in many ways. The other type of novel that appeared over and over again was the fairy tale or its retelling. There were also a few time travel books.
I used to think that choices like this depended more on what writers sent in, but I know of a lot of good manuscripts that were explained by these same publishers as 'hard to market' or 'not quite what we want' and therefore not bought.
What's really daft about so many of this kind of novel is that they're all competing with each other. So many books and so few narrative structures...
That's the bad news. The good news is that this year's crop included some amazing novels and very few bad ones. You'll have to wait a few months, though, before I can talk about specific works. Besides, it's rather important to stop and think that in this new publishing age, where everyone is worried about the future, so many publishers are worrying about the future by making exactly the same choices for publication as every other publisher. This is not a good thing.
I used to think that choices like this depended more on what writers sent in, but I know of a lot of good manuscripts that were explained by these same publishers as 'hard to market' or 'not quite what we want' and therefore not bought.
What's really daft about so many of this kind of novel is that they're all competing with each other. So many books and so few narrative structures...
That's the bad news. The good news is that this year's crop included some amazing novels and very few bad ones. You'll have to wait a few months, though, before I can talk about specific works. Besides, it's rather important to stop and think that in this new publishing age, where everyone is worried about the future, so many publishers are worrying about the future by making exactly the same choices for publication as every other publisher. This is not a good thing.
gillpolack @ 2012-12-31T12:24:00
My self is emerging from the virus. I can eat normally again (just not in large amounts) and the aches and pains have localised to the usual flu-ish ones and actually fade when I sleep. This means that I will be fine for the New Year. Yay!!
I have just one more Aurealis novel to read (unless the post delivers more, later in the week - the post is at least a week behind in deliveries this year, due to the strange placement of holidays) and so I shall finish that forthwith and then spend the rest of the day with things Medievalish.
I'm half hoping that friends will decide not to drop in tonight after all. I will make them fondue and antipasti if they do, but if they don't, it will be easier to get rid of this idiot virus.
Anyhow, I have three hundred pages to read and seven books to enter on the spreadsheet before I can turn into my academic self, so I'd better get a move on.
I have just one more Aurealis novel to read (unless the post delivers more, later in the week - the post is at least a week behind in deliveries this year, due to the strange placement of holidays) and so I shall finish that forthwith and then spend the rest of the day with things Medievalish.
I'm half hoping that friends will decide not to drop in tonight after all. I will make them fondue and antipasti if they do, but if they don't, it will be easier to get rid of this idiot virus.
Anyhow, I have three hundred pages to read and seven books to enter on the spreadsheet before I can turn into my academic self, so I'd better get a move on.
