Gillian Polack's Blog, page 175
June 28, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-28T22:43:00
I've done the minimum of what was needed today to meet my deadlines, and the virus has got the better of me. I don't know where the virus came from, as all the friends with the same symptoms are in Tasmania. Anyhow, I ache and am beyond tired. I have only 500 words to write, however and then much editing and that's not beyond me in a morning, and I have until tomorrow afternoon, in fact, to achieve it. (If it weren't for all my messages I'd have the whole day, but my week is a funny shape.)
My supervisor has the Introduction and Chapter One (which have been basically flipped to him for advice, because I can't see the wood for the trees) and he has them before he goes on leave. Not as soon as he should have (for I was malwared) but maybe in time. I hope in time. I may well get the chapter to the editor tomorrow, on schedule, and I've already sent one other piece off.
I'm still a bit behind. I have a whole article to research and write and send by Saturday night and two interviews to chase up and there's a whole heap of stuff that will roll into next week when I really wanted to be past it all next week. The big thing is that it looks as if the crucial time-important deadlines are doable. This is as long as my phone stays silent until Sunday.
If friends could ring me for urgent matters only, I would really appreciate it. I don't need this solid quiet time often, but I do need it right now. Part of the reason that the work built up to such an impossible level is because the social time for everyone else is evening, so that's when my phone rings hot (although 'til I sulked it started ringing at 11 am and just never went quiet.) and I do my most focussed work in the evening and the morning. My brain's chat time is afternoon, oddly. If only the guy wanting to ask me questions today had rung another day, during my chat time... Everything he said to me I said, "This is a busy time." He gave up, eventually. It must have been dispiriting to him, even when I volunteered that I might be less impossibly busy in a month (he was hoping for the weekend.)
And now you're all informed about all manner of things and I shall take my aching self to bed. I will catch up with email and blog comments and friends in general just as soon as I'm past the impossible zone and, until then, I shall use the blog to overinform everyone so that you'll all be *so* relieved when all the deadlines are gone.
My supervisor has the Introduction and Chapter One (which have been basically flipped to him for advice, because I can't see the wood for the trees) and he has them before he goes on leave. Not as soon as he should have (for I was malwared) but maybe in time. I hope in time. I may well get the chapter to the editor tomorrow, on schedule, and I've already sent one other piece off.
I'm still a bit behind. I have a whole article to research and write and send by Saturday night and two interviews to chase up and there's a whole heap of stuff that will roll into next week when I really wanted to be past it all next week. The big thing is that it looks as if the crucial time-important deadlines are doable. This is as long as my phone stays silent until Sunday.
If friends could ring me for urgent matters only, I would really appreciate it. I don't need this solid quiet time often, but I do need it right now. Part of the reason that the work built up to such an impossible level is because the social time for everyone else is evening, so that's when my phone rings hot (although 'til I sulked it started ringing at 11 am and just never went quiet.) and I do my most focussed work in the evening and the morning. My brain's chat time is afternoon, oddly. If only the guy wanting to ask me questions today had rung another day, during my chat time... Everything he said to me I said, "This is a busy time." He gave up, eventually. It must have been dispiriting to him, even when I volunteered that I might be less impossibly busy in a month (he was hoping for the weekend.)
And now you're all informed about all manner of things and I shall take my aching self to bed. I will catch up with email and blog comments and friends in general just as soon as I'm past the impossible zone and, until then, I shall use the blog to overinform everyone so that you'll all be *so* relieved when all the deadlines are gone.
gillpolack @ 2012-06-28T17:40:00
I will catch up with all your comments when things ease off. Right now, I'll do small updates, when I'm taking a break. Which I am, now.
I think I've done half of today's work. And it doesn't look impossible from here on in, either. Just wildly busy.
The phone being quiet helps a big deal. It's the tail-end-of-PhD thing. Less than five months to go. I have a lot of juggling to do and the phone, for some reason known only to my strange brain, causes all the juggling to fall in a heap. Every time someone rings, I have to start all over again.
It's always been like this at certain times, but I haven't had so few days to myself since I left the public service. I was planning to have every day except yesterday (for yesterday included teaching) and I didn't even get Monday and Tuesday. This is why I am so discomfitted. I don't know how to plan. If I have regular events, I can plan around them, but I can't plan around irregular interruptions. Most times, I can manage regardless, but not when I'm doing serious thinking and have to be focussed. There are some types of work where I still need that level of calm and concentration. They don't occur so often (for I'm very flexible in my work habits, mostly), but when they occur, well, it can get difficult.
Anyhow, having had calm for a half day, I'm less crotchetty. I still hope that no-one rings me before Saturday, though, for I really do want to go out Saturday night (since folkdance is special and increasingly rare for me) and my life would be a lesser thing if I had to cancel my Sunday celebration.
I don't get tomorrow to myself because of messages (I had so planned for there to be no messages, but life intervened and now I have many) But if I can do all of today's work by 1 am and then half tomorrow's before the messages, I should be OK. And tomorrow night is all the finicky stuff. The stuff I meant to do earlier in the week but couldn't do when the phone rang. For I have to keep a whole template in mind, and it isn't my usual whole template and everything done under it has to be perfect. when I tell people "Ask what the publisher wants and then give it to them - don't invent your own formats" this is what I mean. It's an utter pain, but it must be done and to make sure it's done, means focus.
I think I've done half of today's work. And it doesn't look impossible from here on in, either. Just wildly busy.
The phone being quiet helps a big deal. It's the tail-end-of-PhD thing. Less than five months to go. I have a lot of juggling to do and the phone, for some reason known only to my strange brain, causes all the juggling to fall in a heap. Every time someone rings, I have to start all over again.
It's always been like this at certain times, but I haven't had so few days to myself since I left the public service. I was planning to have every day except yesterday (for yesterday included teaching) and I didn't even get Monday and Tuesday. This is why I am so discomfitted. I don't know how to plan. If I have regular events, I can plan around them, but I can't plan around irregular interruptions. Most times, I can manage regardless, but not when I'm doing serious thinking and have to be focussed. There are some types of work where I still need that level of calm and concentration. They don't occur so often (for I'm very flexible in my work habits, mostly), but when they occur, well, it can get difficult.
Anyhow, having had calm for a half day, I'm less crotchetty. I still hope that no-one rings me before Saturday, though, for I really do want to go out Saturday night (since folkdance is special and increasingly rare for me) and my life would be a lesser thing if I had to cancel my Sunday celebration.
I don't get tomorrow to myself because of messages (I had so planned for there to be no messages, but life intervened and now I have many) But if I can do all of today's work by 1 am and then half tomorrow's before the messages, I should be OK. And tomorrow night is all the finicky stuff. The stuff I meant to do earlier in the week but couldn't do when the phone rang. For I have to keep a whole template in mind, and it isn't my usual whole template and everything done under it has to be perfect. when I tell people "Ask what the publisher wants and then give it to them - don't invent your own formats" this is what I mean. It's an utter pain, but it must be done and to make sure it's done, means focus.
June 27, 2012
A case for not panicking... and not ringing for 3 days
I have a five minute break in the weather and I'm using it to blog. I think this demonstrates that there's something wrong with my brain. Or maybe it's to reassure friends. I didn't get a post-excursion rest yesterday because of the malware and because friends rang me up. My phone was a bit hot because of the malware and folks not hearing from me, and I'm still getting "Did you get my email?" worries, and I worked as late as I needed to and I didn't catch up before a virus caught up with me. I keep telling myself that if I had rested instead of worked I would be better today but that's just not true: I have a virus and my legs would still be wobbly and my muscles sore.
It's not use telling me to take care of myself this time, for the deadlines have reached the immutable and urgent stage. I'm doing my very best to take care of myself and get through this week.
This week was always going to be tough, because of the deadlines and the big excursion, and now it's ...challenging. I have messages that must be run tomorrow, so I'll get out for a couple of hours or so then and today will be all about the next 2000 words of intelligent scholarly ponderings. I'll come online for my microbreaks and I shall twitter and FB during that time. I'll answer emails and comments on blogs when I can, possibly when life is less impossible (I hate being so tired that my fingers don't want to work, to be honest) and in the meantime, please don't ring unless it's something super-urgent. For if you ring, I will (as I did yesterday) assume that something is direly wrong at your end and I will worry. For friends can't be ringing to encourage me, when the help I need is to focus clearly on work for many hours at a stretch. Mind you, if a friend were to say "Gillian, let me drive you round your messages tomorrow afternoon and I can see you that way," I would agree with much gratitude, for simple messages take a long time on foot and by bus.
This is still one of the busiest weeks in years and it will be better soon, but only if I actually get things done. If I don't get things done by deadline then I shall have to cancel the weekend, which includes a dance party and celebrating Cellophane. I do not want to cancel my weekend (one full day of weekend that I am taking!).
I feel guilty at telling people "don't ring," but yesterday was hours longer because of phonecalls and I am way short of where I need to be because of malware and... I hurt. Simple virus. What my body needs is a day in bed. And I can't get it. All the moveable deadlines have been moved, and I cut off several obstacles to my resting that way. What I'm left with now are the deadlines that must be met. It's the price of starting my career afresh - I need to do certain things at a certain time in a certain way. Other people are affected when I don't and there are contracts involved.
It's not use telling me to take care of myself this time, for the deadlines have reached the immutable and urgent stage. I'm doing my very best to take care of myself and get through this week.
This week was always going to be tough, because of the deadlines and the big excursion, and now it's ...challenging. I have messages that must be run tomorrow, so I'll get out for a couple of hours or so then and today will be all about the next 2000 words of intelligent scholarly ponderings. I'll come online for my microbreaks and I shall twitter and FB during that time. I'll answer emails and comments on blogs when I can, possibly when life is less impossible (I hate being so tired that my fingers don't want to work, to be honest) and in the meantime, please don't ring unless it's something super-urgent. For if you ring, I will (as I did yesterday) assume that something is direly wrong at your end and I will worry. For friends can't be ringing to encourage me, when the help I need is to focus clearly on work for many hours at a stretch. Mind you, if a friend were to say "Gillian, let me drive you round your messages tomorrow afternoon and I can see you that way," I would agree with much gratitude, for simple messages take a long time on foot and by bus.
This is still one of the busiest weeks in years and it will be better soon, but only if I actually get things done. If I don't get things done by deadline then I shall have to cancel the weekend, which includes a dance party and celebrating Cellophane. I do not want to cancel my weekend (one full day of weekend that I am taking!).
I feel guilty at telling people "don't ring," but yesterday was hours longer because of phonecalls and I am way short of where I need to be because of malware and... I hurt. Simple virus. What my body needs is a day in bed. And I can't get it. All the moveable deadlines have been moved, and I cut off several obstacles to my resting that way. What I'm left with now are the deadlines that must be met. It's the price of starting my career afresh - I need to do certain things at a certain time in a certain way. Other people are affected when I don't and there are contracts involved.
gillpolack @ 2012-06-27T17:34:00
I feel as if I've been offline a lot longer than I actually have. My computer was hit by malware yesterday and a friend has just sorted out the worst of it. Tonight is going to be all about catching up. I'm not quite as behind as I ought to be, because the malware hit just after I'd done a bunch of work offline, so I haven't lost it, and my friend and I took the time of worry and finished setting up my netbook, so I've been working at it on the unentered material. It was worrying and, of course, not good, but it could have been much worse. I'll be worried until everything behaves, of course, and the writing is now on the wall for this computer (its age didn't help) and I'm using insurance money to sort out better backup systems (I really don't need clothes and DVDs, even if that's what the thief stole).
Today was all about excursion. We went to the National Museum and two of my students zipped around in wheelchairs, while the rest of us walked sedately. By 'zipped around,' I mean that one of them has some very fancy wheelchair moves.
And now it's one more week and term is over. I will feel that when I'm caught up on the haven't-done-todays. Which will happen.
Right now, though, I want a nap!! Such a tempestuous 28 hours!!
Today was all about excursion. We went to the National Museum and two of my students zipped around in wheelchairs, while the rest of us walked sedately. By 'zipped around,' I mean that one of them has some very fancy wheelchair moves.
And now it's one more week and term is over. I will feel that when I'm caught up on the haven't-done-todays. Which will happen.
Right now, though, I want a nap!! Such a tempestuous 28 hours!!
June 25, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-26T14:22:00
I've done some busy things today. The mirror is out and ready. It doesn't look at all worrying, which is in itself probably a worry. While I was hauling it out of storage, I discovered a bottle of rather ancient Stanton and Killeen vintage port, which obviously has to be drunk on Sunday. I need to buy more coffee and clean the patio, but otherwise I'm ready for the half dozen friends who say they'll drop by. I'm also ready for the half dozen who have forgotten to tell me they'll be round.
This morning's coffee with a scientist was delightful. When an expert fact-checking a novel says that she was so taken up in the story that she forgot she was fact-checking, well, it has to be delightful. It appears that, somehow, my thought experiment has turned out readable. Also, she fully got it was a thought experiment without being told. And she had favourite characters. And she laughed a lot.
I'm still waiting one last science report and then I'm up to final changes for the novel and then final approval by supervisor and then final-final adjustments and then final proofread. And that will be 2/3 of my doctorate done and dusted and ready for examination.
Just to make up for Chapter Six of the dissertation not being at all bad and the novel behaving nicely, my Chapter One is still a mess. I spent 1/3 of yesterday going through various papers and trying to work out if anything was missing that could help fix it (another 1/3 was spent on article and a final 1/3 in the Middle Ages - it was a very balanced day). This afternoon is about adding those fixes. I still think it will be a mess, but I'm sending it to my supervisor anyhow, for if I can't work out what I'm doing wrong, maybe he can. I know what I ought to do and I know what I need to do and I know what data I have and it just doesn't want to work. Mostly it doesn't want to work as part of a consistent argument with the rest of the dissertation. This afternoon. I shall solve it.
The other article is progressing. I'm still unhappy with it, but it at least has shape and notes for where my examples go. I think I shall leave it until after the excursion tomorrow, just to give me a bit of distance, for I'm pretty certain I repeat myself at one point. I have nearly 1500 words to play with, and really, I know what I'm (mostly) doing, so this is not as much of a worry as Chapter One of the sub-idiot dissertation (since it is a section of the idiot doctorate, it must be a sub-idiot dissertation, which makes Chapter One a quasi-sub-idiot).
Add a bit of shopping (I replaced the DVDs the thief stole with Haven - both seasons - and Singin' in the Rain) and that's my day so far.
This morning's coffee with a scientist was delightful. When an expert fact-checking a novel says that she was so taken up in the story that she forgot she was fact-checking, well, it has to be delightful. It appears that, somehow, my thought experiment has turned out readable. Also, she fully got it was a thought experiment without being told. And she had favourite characters. And she laughed a lot.
I'm still waiting one last science report and then I'm up to final changes for the novel and then final approval by supervisor and then final-final adjustments and then final proofread. And that will be 2/3 of my doctorate done and dusted and ready for examination.
Just to make up for Chapter Six of the dissertation not being at all bad and the novel behaving nicely, my Chapter One is still a mess. I spent 1/3 of yesterday going through various papers and trying to work out if anything was missing that could help fix it (another 1/3 was spent on article and a final 1/3 in the Middle Ages - it was a very balanced day). This afternoon is about adding those fixes. I still think it will be a mess, but I'm sending it to my supervisor anyhow, for if I can't work out what I'm doing wrong, maybe he can. I know what I ought to do and I know what I need to do and I know what data I have and it just doesn't want to work. Mostly it doesn't want to work as part of a consistent argument with the rest of the dissertation. This afternoon. I shall solve it.
The other article is progressing. I'm still unhappy with it, but it at least has shape and notes for where my examples go. I think I shall leave it until after the excursion tomorrow, just to give me a bit of distance, for I'm pretty certain I repeat myself at one point. I have nearly 1500 words to play with, and really, I know what I'm (mostly) doing, so this is not as much of a worry as Chapter One of the sub-idiot dissertation (since it is a section of the idiot doctorate, it must be a sub-idiot dissertation, which makes Chapter One a quasi-sub-idiot).
Add a bit of shopping (I replaced the DVDs the thief stole with Haven - both seasons - and Singin' in the Rain) and that's my day so far.
gillpolack @ 2012-06-26T10:15:00
My deadlines are still looming massively, but I'm taking time for morning tea and shopping anyhow. If I don't, then I will hurt. Also, I won't have fun.
Actually, yesterday was awesome-fun. My favourite kind of day. Certain kinds of work appeal and yesterday was full of them. But today I hurt, and the best thing I can do is to get out and make sure I stretch and etc. Tea in town, therefore, and some shopping, then back to awesomeness. I need to get that chapter to my supervisor by 5 pm and get my other chapter to me by 10 pm. And maybe do some fiction. Just maybe.
Actually, yesterday was awesome-fun. My favourite kind of day. Certain kinds of work appeal and yesterday was full of them. But today I hurt, and the best thing I can do is to get out and make sure I stretch and etc. Tea in town, therefore, and some shopping, then back to awesomeness. I need to get that chapter to my supervisor by 5 pm and get my other chapter to me by 10 pm. And maybe do some fiction. Just maybe.
June 24, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-25T16:17:00
Afternoon news time.
In six days, Ms Cellophane will be available for purchase at a computer near you.
In the interim, there is always my new BiblioBuffet article, where I look at naming practises in an unrepresentative selection of novels: http://www.bibliobuffet.com/bookish-dreaming/1788-how-naming-conventions-work-a-quick-look-at-novels-of-the-fantastic-062412
All the writers who have been saying in my vicinity, "No need to spend too much effort getting names right," are not going to be happy with me. Right now, though, quite a few people are not very happy with me. If I don't want to add to the number, I'd better do a bit more work (a lot more work) and meet my next set of deadlines. This will hopefully hide the fact that there was more news, but that I've forgotten it.
My excuse is that I just noticed the extensive bruising from my collision with the TV and etc the other day and that my skin looks mostly sickly yellow-green. The inner alien is emerging.
I was so positive that I was imagining hurting and I was wrong. My imagination obviously isn't nearly as powerful as I thought it was. Anyhow, if you want to get even at me for saying rude things about your favourite book, my TV and its wooden stand have obviously done the work for you.
In six days, Ms Cellophane will be available for purchase at a computer near you.
In the interim, there is always my new BiblioBuffet article, where I look at naming practises in an unrepresentative selection of novels: http://www.bibliobuffet.com/bookish-dreaming/1788-how-naming-conventions-work-a-quick-look-at-novels-of-the-fantastic-062412
All the writers who have been saying in my vicinity, "No need to spend too much effort getting names right," are not going to be happy with me. Right now, though, quite a few people are not very happy with me. If I don't want to add to the number, I'd better do a bit more work (a lot more work) and meet my next set of deadlines. This will hopefully hide the fact that there was more news, but that I've forgotten it.
My excuse is that I just noticed the extensive bruising from my collision with the TV and etc the other day and that my skin looks mostly sickly yellow-green. The inner alien is emerging.
I was so positive that I was imagining hurting and I was wrong. My imagination obviously isn't nearly as powerful as I thought it was. Anyhow, if you want to get even at me for saying rude things about your favourite book, my TV and its wooden stand have obviously done the work for you.
gillpolack @ 2012-06-25T11:51:00
I had a rush of emails this morning. They were from the amazing and wonderful scientists at CSIRO (and a lone wonderful astronomer from Texas*). The science in my time travel novel needs tweaks only. I need to check for surface shale in some bits of my region, for instance, but otherwise the geology is fine and the water systems (which from my end are both important and complex) work. This is very, very good news on a number of fronts.
Firstly, it means I am still on track with the idiot doctorate. It was not my imagination: the novel is all but finished.
Secondly (and more importantly) it means that you don't need to do anything past year 10 to get things right in novels. You do, however, have to put the work in for that novel and think things through properly. When people point out their lack of history or languages, I can now point to my lack of science. Writers need to do their homework: writers need to get background right.
If I had got everything 100% right, then I would have been able to say this smugly, but the expert still has it all over the enthusiastic fiction writer in terms of understanding.
Thirdly, my hard SF doesn't look like hard SF. It looks like a novel by Gillian, with the people first and their actions leading the way and many bad jokes spattered along the way. Yet it *is* hard SF in terms of care taken with the science and with the landscape. It's also hard history in terms of care taken. However much the genre of novel looks like something else, it's got that work underpinning it. This is going to be really interesting, I think in terms of public reception and (let's be honest) finding a publisher. For it doesn't fudge where it's meant to fudge. In plotline, it's an alien encounter novel, but in setting it's got the detail one associates with historical fiction.
I think I am put on this earth to drive publishers crazy. I certainly drove Momentum crazy when they were trying to work out how to market Cellophane. Apparently it doesn't fit neatly into genre boundaries either.
That's not all my news of the morning, but it's quite, quite enough.
*Actually, my lone star astronomer emailed ages ago, but I couldn't leave her out!
Firstly, it means I am still on track with the idiot doctorate. It was not my imagination: the novel is all but finished.
Secondly (and more importantly) it means that you don't need to do anything past year 10 to get things right in novels. You do, however, have to put the work in for that novel and think things through properly. When people point out their lack of history or languages, I can now point to my lack of science. Writers need to do their homework: writers need to get background right.
If I had got everything 100% right, then I would have been able to say this smugly, but the expert still has it all over the enthusiastic fiction writer in terms of understanding.
Thirdly, my hard SF doesn't look like hard SF. It looks like a novel by Gillian, with the people first and their actions leading the way and many bad jokes spattered along the way. Yet it *is* hard SF in terms of care taken with the science and with the landscape. It's also hard history in terms of care taken. However much the genre of novel looks like something else, it's got that work underpinning it. This is going to be really interesting, I think in terms of public reception and (let's be honest) finding a publisher. For it doesn't fudge where it's meant to fudge. In plotline, it's an alien encounter novel, but in setting it's got the detail one associates with historical fiction.
I think I am put on this earth to drive publishers crazy. I certainly drove Momentum crazy when they were trying to work out how to market Cellophane. Apparently it doesn't fit neatly into genre boundaries either.
That's not all my news of the morning, but it's quite, quite enough.
*Actually, my lone star astronomer emailed ages ago, but I couldn't leave her out!
June 23, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-24T16:51:00
Secretly, when no-one's watching, I pull up the cover of Ms Cellophane and admire it. It's a clever cover. At first I was neutral about it, and then I found it growing on me. It follows me around.
It keeps reminding me that I have to find a time when the neighbour's car isn't blocking my storeroom and I have to bring the mirror out and give it a bit of a clean. For I will need it next Sunday.
if I put chocolates *on* the mirror, does it eat them?
It keeps reminding me that I have to find a time when the neighbour's car isn't blocking my storeroom and I have to bring the mirror out and give it a bit of a clean. For I will need it next Sunday.
if I put chocolates *on* the mirror, does it eat them?
gillpolack @ 2012-06-23T21:54:00
I'm writing about predispositions of various things which means I have moved from article-writing to drafting Chapter One of my dissertation. Once it's drafted, I will only have the Conclusion to go, for I have a tiny gem of an Introduction just finished.
When I print those two opening segments out, no doubt I'll find that they're both in need of work, but right now the Introduction is gemlike in its radiance and Chapter One is a terrible mess containing predispositions of all strange kinds. The only virtue of Chapter One is that I'll fit my notes into my word limit. Oh, and I've managed to quote Jenkins and Munslow in the same paragraph. Economy of something.
If I can fit reflexivity into the next paragraph and say something not-too-rude about postmodern theorists, then I shall mutter evilly and chuckle into the night. Or I shall finish my Abbey Girls book (which is totally full of pomo and reflexivity - how could it be otherwise?) and have a cuppa.
ETA: I did better than pomo! I mentioned Fuzzy Sapiens!!
When I print those two opening segments out, no doubt I'll find that they're both in need of work, but right now the Introduction is gemlike in its radiance and Chapter One is a terrible mess containing predispositions of all strange kinds. The only virtue of Chapter One is that I'll fit my notes into my word limit. Oh, and I've managed to quote Jenkins and Munslow in the same paragraph. Economy of something.
If I can fit reflexivity into the next paragraph and say something not-too-rude about postmodern theorists, then I shall mutter evilly and chuckle into the night. Or I shall finish my Abbey Girls book (which is totally full of pomo and reflexivity - how could it be otherwise?) and have a cuppa.
ETA: I did better than pomo! I mentioned Fuzzy Sapiens!!
