Gillian Polack's Blog, page 178
June 15, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-16T15:00:00
Another Continuum thought (because I need a break from a book before I get snarky about it and I actually like this book and this author, but the naming systems totally suck - I don't know why some writers don't see that shortcuts will be noticed in their fantasy universe and that those shortcuts will make people like me want to wax sarcastic):
When we do our voyages of discovery (as I've been doing, recently) we should not be looking for approval of every stage from people who have had to live with these things. We may one day catch up with their level of understanding, if we work hard, but they should not be forced to applaud our little efforts to encourage us along. I should not have to relive racism because someone is working gradually through racism 101 and my friends should not have to applaud my very slow progress into understanding the life matters they learned years ago.
Any applause given to one's intellectual development when the people around you have been through the whole thing personally and have scars to prove it is a free gift and a big one and should be appreciated, not just taken as ones' due. This is why I mostly don't chart my progress on matters of understanding. This week was a bit strange, and so I did, but it wasn't for any "You're doing well" or "Aren't you clever" but because I felt exceptionally stupid and had finally found out why and thought my stupidity was worth documenting. I don't guarantee not to be stupid on other matters, or to have advanced beyond stupidity on these.
This post didn't come from Continuum at all, in fact, but from the need for some folks to be applauded for basics. It's like rewarding a bright student for learning the alphabet when equally bright students are reading novels - it feels sad, or it feels as if we despair of them ever reaching novels and are just happy to see them master the alphabet. In a way, it feels as if we're admitting the applaudees have a learning problem and are helping them overcome it. In matters of bigotry and prejudice and privilege I already know I have a learning disfunction. I need to be pushed harder to sort it, not encouraged for achieving tiny, early steps.
And what I'm saying here is thank you to my friends, for realising this and not damning my small learning this week with faint praise. I appreciate it.
When we do our voyages of discovery (as I've been doing, recently) we should not be looking for approval of every stage from people who have had to live with these things. We may one day catch up with their level of understanding, if we work hard, but they should not be forced to applaud our little efforts to encourage us along. I should not have to relive racism because someone is working gradually through racism 101 and my friends should not have to applaud my very slow progress into understanding the life matters they learned years ago.
Any applause given to one's intellectual development when the people around you have been through the whole thing personally and have scars to prove it is a free gift and a big one and should be appreciated, not just taken as ones' due. This is why I mostly don't chart my progress on matters of understanding. This week was a bit strange, and so I did, but it wasn't for any "You're doing well" or "Aren't you clever" but because I felt exceptionally stupid and had finally found out why and thought my stupidity was worth documenting. I don't guarantee not to be stupid on other matters, or to have advanced beyond stupidity on these.
This post didn't come from Continuum at all, in fact, but from the need for some folks to be applauded for basics. It's like rewarding a bright student for learning the alphabet when equally bright students are reading novels - it feels sad, or it feels as if we despair of them ever reaching novels and are just happy to see them master the alphabet. In a way, it feels as if we're admitting the applaudees have a learning problem and are helping them overcome it. In matters of bigotry and prejudice and privilege I already know I have a learning disfunction. I need to be pushed harder to sort it, not encouraged for achieving tiny, early steps.
And what I'm saying here is thank you to my friends, for realising this and not damning my small learning this week with faint praise. I appreciate it.
gillpolack @ 2012-06-16T11:43:00
Today is, alas, a high pain day and a high allergy day (what can I say except that I'm greedy). I shall do my work and do my exercises and handle the pain and do that library visit tomorrow. I shall also whinge, for I am extraordinarily good at whingeing. I shall drink much tea and I shall accomplish extraordinary things, for why else does one get pain and allergies both at once?
My eyes look astonishingly shadowed, so I was thinking about turning into a nineteenth century heroine, or maybe a vampire. I'm too chubby to become a vampire and nineteenth century heroines led quite dull lives most of the time, so I shall refrain from becoming either. This means I have no idea what I'm becoming. If anyone has worked it out, explain in the comments so that we can all nod wisely and say "aha."
My eyes look astonishingly shadowed, so I was thinking about turning into a nineteenth century heroine, or maybe a vampire. I'm too chubby to become a vampire and nineteenth century heroines led quite dull lives most of the time, so I shall refrain from becoming either. This means I have no idea what I'm becoming. If anyone has worked it out, explain in the comments so that we can all nod wisely and say "aha."
In Memoriam
Sometimes one is silent because one isn't ready for the truth. Mum let slip on Thursday that Auntie Zara (my mother's aunt) had died. If I had stayed in Melbourne a day longer, I could have gone to her funeral, but in the end, the family forgot to tell me she died. It wasn't real to me until this morning. I guess I wasn't ready to farewell her until this morning.
Auntie Zara had an awful old age and a terrible death, so I'm not going to tell you about that. I haven't seen her since she became ill, because she was proud and didn't want anyone except Mum to see her. This means that my memories of her are always of her at her best, impeccably dressed, backing Uncle Sol to the hilt.
Now they're both gone, Uncle Sol and Auntie Zara: they were a formidable team. She was one of the sharp women in the family, who appreciated proper behaviour and was warmly supportive of those she loved. She always had time for me at family functions and I seldom saw her cutting side. I suspect this is because Uncle Sol was very much the love of her life, and he and I got on admirably. He loved seeing me do well and seeing me fight my battles, for he was different to most people (Kokoda Track veteran, one of the team that saved the Yarra - and much more - he was also, as an aside, the reason I can cook for celiacs - he was so important in our family that we can all cook for celiacs) and we both loved arguing politics. We never agreed, for he was quite right wing. Auntie Zara loved it that we could get up a spirited argument, embarrass the rest of the family, and then go about our business, best of friends. She said that he needed someone in my generation who would stand up to him, and so she approved of me. Her approval was quiet, but it got me through more than one difficult time. Knowing someone cares is sometimes enough.
Zara Rose was one of those women of her generation who did paid work for her full working life. She was a marvellous housewife and good cook (bad cooks in my family are rare and somewhat abashed) and did all the family events in style, but she worked nine to five and demanded respect for it. As I said, she was a proud woman. She was also, as I understand it, an extraordinary good secretary.
When I got my first job she explained that, even when I married, I should get a job and stick with it. Self-respect and a fine wardrobe were her official reasons*. She dressed exquisitely, and told me once that it made her happy to be able to buy the things she wanted, when she wanted them. She understood that this latter was a privilege (and it pulled snide remarks from other family members) and that she would have a comfortable life even on Uncle Sol's income alone, but she fought for that independence and that self-respect.
She's gone, and I miss her, but I'm very relieved she's no longer suffering.
*Just once, I got her unofficial reasons, which included loving her work and her life being expanded by it. The family didn't accept that, so she was silent about it around us. Mum agreed with her, which is, I suspect, one of the reasons Mum was allowed to visit right to the end.
Auntie Zara had an awful old age and a terrible death, so I'm not going to tell you about that. I haven't seen her since she became ill, because she was proud and didn't want anyone except Mum to see her. This means that my memories of her are always of her at her best, impeccably dressed, backing Uncle Sol to the hilt.
Now they're both gone, Uncle Sol and Auntie Zara: they were a formidable team. She was one of the sharp women in the family, who appreciated proper behaviour and was warmly supportive of those she loved. She always had time for me at family functions and I seldom saw her cutting side. I suspect this is because Uncle Sol was very much the love of her life, and he and I got on admirably. He loved seeing me do well and seeing me fight my battles, for he was different to most people (Kokoda Track veteran, one of the team that saved the Yarra - and much more - he was also, as an aside, the reason I can cook for celiacs - he was so important in our family that we can all cook for celiacs) and we both loved arguing politics. We never agreed, for he was quite right wing. Auntie Zara loved it that we could get up a spirited argument, embarrass the rest of the family, and then go about our business, best of friends. She said that he needed someone in my generation who would stand up to him, and so she approved of me. Her approval was quiet, but it got me through more than one difficult time. Knowing someone cares is sometimes enough.
Zara Rose was one of those women of her generation who did paid work for her full working life. She was a marvellous housewife and good cook (bad cooks in my family are rare and somewhat abashed) and did all the family events in style, but she worked nine to five and demanded respect for it. As I said, she was a proud woman. She was also, as I understand it, an extraordinary good secretary.
When I got my first job she explained that, even when I married, I should get a job and stick with it. Self-respect and a fine wardrobe were her official reasons*. She dressed exquisitely, and told me once that it made her happy to be able to buy the things she wanted, when she wanted them. She understood that this latter was a privilege (and it pulled snide remarks from other family members) and that she would have a comfortable life even on Uncle Sol's income alone, but she fought for that independence and that self-respect.
She's gone, and I miss her, but I'm very relieved she's no longer suffering.
*Just once, I got her unofficial reasons, which included loving her work and her life being expanded by it. The family didn't accept that, so she was silent about it around us. Mum agreed with her, which is, I suspect, one of the reasons Mum was allowed to visit right to the end.
where my thoughts on criticism become more robust
I finally remembered the missing bit of my Continuum memory. Between a panel and much conversation with very learned people (Gene Melzack and Janeen Webb, mostly, but also others) I sorted out more of why the lesser quantity of robust criticism in Australia is a problem for me. I was asked on one panel (devoted mainly to reviewing) why I didn't review friends and I explained (again) and in conversation over lunch, over dinner, at the bar, I realised (again) that this need for distance wasn't a problem in Australia a few years ago. We've become more precious about our work and about talking about the work of others. We're worried that someone will hate us if we say, "Honestly, this writer should have known better, combining a with b without finding common ground between them."
It was Gene who pointed out that I would be able to review works by friends again when it's OK for me to pull everything to pieces (no matter how genius) and to explain it and offer insights. The need for distance won't always be so. Or if I moved to the UK, where criticism *is* more robust, then I will be able to choose interesting works regardless of provenance. It's only here and now, when politeness prevails and even the mildest comment causes a flurry that it's sensible to keep that distance clear.
I'll always be a mild critic, so it all seems a bit daft. My idea of "This book totally fails at what it sets out to do" is "I think that the author could have looked more closely at such-and-such." This means I find it odd when I come over as the tough critic on a panel, as I did, on that particular panel. Also, if people are scared of my gentleness, then yes, Australian spec fic is going to be slow in rediscovering robust criticism.
I rather suspect that the wonderful burgeoning of book availability for online reviewing and the general literary and enthusiasm of many of us who review mean that the fluidity of the writing style and the love for the book is more important for most than the critical assessment. On the panel, at least one reviewer said outright "I review friends, but that's OK because I only review books I like reading anyway." It's the difference between a good appreciation of an enjoyable volume and a critique/review.
In some ways it horrifies me, because I'll always prefer a stiff criticism that shows me the work from ways I couldn't have seen it myself and that opens my eyes to the wonders of story. I do not want to be told to adore a book - I can work that much out for myself - I want to hear thoughts and be challenged and grow in my understanding of the writer and of what they do.
In other ways, it's delightful, for it means more fans read and communicate about more books. If we're all writing about the same books, then that's a problem (for it reduces the world to a few stories), but there'll always be an important place for love of books, communicated effectively and eloquently.
This means I'm conflicted, but less confused. Which is an improvement on being both conflicted and confused, I guess.
It was Gene who pointed out that I would be able to review works by friends again when it's OK for me to pull everything to pieces (no matter how genius) and to explain it and offer insights. The need for distance won't always be so. Or if I moved to the UK, where criticism *is* more robust, then I will be able to choose interesting works regardless of provenance. It's only here and now, when politeness prevails and even the mildest comment causes a flurry that it's sensible to keep that distance clear.
I'll always be a mild critic, so it all seems a bit daft. My idea of "This book totally fails at what it sets out to do" is "I think that the author could have looked more closely at such-and-such." This means I find it odd when I come over as the tough critic on a panel, as I did, on that particular panel. Also, if people are scared of my gentleness, then yes, Australian spec fic is going to be slow in rediscovering robust criticism.
I rather suspect that the wonderful burgeoning of book availability for online reviewing and the general literary and enthusiasm of many of us who review mean that the fluidity of the writing style and the love for the book is more important for most than the critical assessment. On the panel, at least one reviewer said outright "I review friends, but that's OK because I only review books I like reading anyway." It's the difference between a good appreciation of an enjoyable volume and a critique/review.
In some ways it horrifies me, because I'll always prefer a stiff criticism that shows me the work from ways I couldn't have seen it myself and that opens my eyes to the wonders of story. I do not want to be told to adore a book - I can work that much out for myself - I want to hear thoughts and be challenged and grow in my understanding of the writer and of what they do.
In other ways, it's delightful, for it means more fans read and communicate about more books. If we're all writing about the same books, then that's a problem (for it reduces the world to a few stories), but there'll always be an important place for love of books, communicated effectively and eloquently.
This means I'm conflicted, but less confused. Which is an improvement on being both conflicted and confused, I guess.
Status of my work (offically dull, but also rather essential)
It's Friday and I'm giving my progress report for the week. On the big things (except the PhD and teaching) I'm further behind than I was. I'm fine with the PhD because of that almost-all-nighter I pulled before Continuum and because I'm nearing the end of term - 3 more weeks! I shall report again tomorrow, just so that I can have finished one of the big things, for I'm close but just not quite there and a tiny bit more pressure should do the trick.
Because of the constant interventions of life (and the need to earn income and deal with health) I have cast iron excuses, but cast iron excuses aren't worth a scrap. They're scrap iron, in fact. I have to finish one article by tomorrow and get it off and I have to finish the other in two weeks. And I now have 4 BiblioBuffet pieces to finish in the next two weeks, plus the dissertation to work on. In other words, it really doesn't matter that I have had an interesting few months: life continues.
This is probably good for me, because I've had one of those weeks where no-one wants me. The writer's life is full of rejections, but that doesn't make them comfortable. All rejections this week left doors open (as mine generally do) but an open door is not the same as a project with income. Sometimes this doesn't matter, but right now, obviously, it does. On the other hand, there is a possibility of a bit more paid work over my non-teaching, post-PhD dry period, which may help see me through some of it.
And this is less a report-in than a witter, isn't it? With the essay-to-be-done-today-and-emailed-tomorrow, I have about 600 words to write and then I must edit it cleanly. That's all. With the BiblioBuffet (today) I have one more book to read and 2 paragraphs to write on said book, plus some emails to send.
By this time tomorrow, then, my goals are to have sent those emails including the one with the whacking great attachment, to have read three or four more books (for my to-write-about pile was definitely scary when I sorted it today) and to have written them up and to plan my attack on the next two weeks (ie the book chapter for which half the research is done and the introduction to the idiot doctorate, for which all the research is done but which seems formless in my brain).
![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380938211i/3404272.gif)
la_marquise_de_
, I shall report in again tomorrow, just to make myself do all of this. If I don't, the backlog will just get worst and I am (as of about an hour ago) over the worst of the virus. Then I'll leave reporting in until today week. I expected time out for the con, but I honestly didn't expect such a mess of things following.
Because of the constant interventions of life (and the need to earn income and deal with health) I have cast iron excuses, but cast iron excuses aren't worth a scrap. They're scrap iron, in fact. I have to finish one article by tomorrow and get it off and I have to finish the other in two weeks. And I now have 4 BiblioBuffet pieces to finish in the next two weeks, plus the dissertation to work on. In other words, it really doesn't matter that I have had an interesting few months: life continues.
This is probably good for me, because I've had one of those weeks where no-one wants me. The writer's life is full of rejections, but that doesn't make them comfortable. All rejections this week left doors open (as mine generally do) but an open door is not the same as a project with income. Sometimes this doesn't matter, but right now, obviously, it does. On the other hand, there is a possibility of a bit more paid work over my non-teaching, post-PhD dry period, which may help see me through some of it.
And this is less a report-in than a witter, isn't it? With the essay-to-be-done-today-and-emailed-tomorrow, I have about 600 words to write and then I must edit it cleanly. That's all. With the BiblioBuffet (today) I have one more book to read and 2 paragraphs to write on said book, plus some emails to send.
By this time tomorrow, then, my goals are to have sent those emails including the one with the whacking great attachment, to have read three or four more books (for my to-write-about pile was definitely scary when I sorted it today) and to have written them up and to plan my attack on the next two weeks (ie the book chapter for which half the research is done and the introduction to the idiot doctorate, for which all the research is done but which seems formless in my brain).
la_marquise_de_
, I shall report in again tomorrow, just to make myself do all of this. If I don't, the backlog will just get worst and I am (as of about an hour ago) over the worst of the virus. Then I'll leave reporting in until today week. I expected time out for the con, but I honestly didn't expect such a mess of things following.
June 14, 2012
Tidbits of news
Today is I-need-a-new-body day. Yesterday I slept most of the day and so being sick was fine. Today things just hurt, so being sick is less fine. I have a list for today, though, and it includes reporting in on having finished an article. I haven't actually finished yet, but I'm not reporting in for six hours and it really only has 3 hours work left on it. That leaves 3 hours for feeling ill and 3 hours for working: no worries.
My main email address sends but doesn't receive at the moment. I've set LJ up for my other address, though, so if anyone wants to contact me, you can do so through LJ, or Facebook, or twitter, or use my uni address. This means that the only emails I'll be missing are the work ones, and I can't email everyone I do work for and say "Did you email me this week?" What's a very real nuisance is that I'm in the middle of two round table interviews for BiblioBuffet. I need to send out new emails explaining that anything the respondents have sent this week has landed somewhere mysterious and giving them an address to add to the 'copy to' list.
And, in other news, my microwave is only half dead. I'm developing a whole new pile of books for Aurealis and my review piles are getting out of control (again - but having lots of good books to read is not actually a problem, just an interior decoration challenge) and tomorrow I have a libary visit. The library visit takes me to exotic places (Woden) and I've told my body it will be well by then, so if anyone is near Woden Plaza tomorrow, give me a ring today (don't trust the email!) and we can meet up.
And my television now shows all the regular channels, but only when the weather is right. The weather was right last night and I saw half of MasterChef which convinces me I really haven't missed much, in not getting most channels and having such slow download I can't do the online viewing. I would have liked to have seen Once Upon a Time, though - it's the only current TV I'm regretting not seeing. For everything else, books appear to be much better. And of books I have many.
I'm still counting down, and it's just over two weeks before the mirror appears on iTunes.
My main email address sends but doesn't receive at the moment. I've set LJ up for my other address, though, so if anyone wants to contact me, you can do so through LJ, or Facebook, or twitter, or use my uni address. This means that the only emails I'll be missing are the work ones, and I can't email everyone I do work for and say "Did you email me this week?" What's a very real nuisance is that I'm in the middle of two round table interviews for BiblioBuffet. I need to send out new emails explaining that anything the respondents have sent this week has landed somewhere mysterious and giving them an address to add to the 'copy to' list.
And, in other news, my microwave is only half dead. I'm developing a whole new pile of books for Aurealis and my review piles are getting out of control (again - but having lots of good books to read is not actually a problem, just an interior decoration challenge) and tomorrow I have a libary visit. The library visit takes me to exotic places (Woden) and I've told my body it will be well by then, so if anyone is near Woden Plaza tomorrow, give me a ring today (don't trust the email!) and we can meet up.
And my television now shows all the regular channels, but only when the weather is right. The weather was right last night and I saw half of MasterChef which convinces me I really haven't missed much, in not getting most channels and having such slow download I can't do the online viewing. I would have liked to have seen Once Upon a Time, though - it's the only current TV I'm regretting not seeing. For everything else, books appear to be much better. And of books I have many.
I'm still counting down, and it's just over two weeks before the mirror appears on iTunes.
June 13, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-14T15:01:00
The big thing I brought home from Continuum* was much thought about many subjects. That was the sort of convention it was.
One thing that I have drawn from panels and conversations was that when most writers write people-like-us (ie people whose background they understand deeply) they can nuance their depictions even when writing fairly formulaic tales. They have their own lives and the lives of people close to them. They have such a deep understanding of these lives that they may not even articulate that they are nuancing their characters - some writers tell me in class "This is the character forming itself naturally, telling its story." Those stories have been building up inside us, from people we know well.
When writers write people-not-like-us the vast majority of us seem to say "I need this kind of person in my story" and then nudge the person into the shape of the story. Much of this nudging comes from marrying popular stereotypes with the story needs, rather than developing the character from the same complex basis that people-like-us are developed. I heard several writers mention this at Continuum: the plot needed this gender or this sexuality or this skin colour and so a character was formed to fit it. I'm pretty sure that only minor characters were discussed in this context. It wasn't one writer or one panel - it was quite widespread. And not all writers work that way. I was concentrating on those that were talking about it, is all.
My half-realisation of the other day is that for some characters, this nudging isn't necessary. We have perfect character arcs for them. They're often the ones occupied by people-like-us, which is one of the many facets of this I need to ponder some more. But instead of choosing a minor sidekick to be the character that has thought deeply about gender identity and fought societal expectations to win through, why not make them the shepherd who becomes prince/princess?
There are so many classic fantasy plot arcs that would be enriched by making gender and sexuality core issues for the main character**. It adds to the richness of the novel to have a character arc reflected on more than one level. And it means that we can work with stories we know. We just have to learn to see and understand people who are different to us, which - to be very blunt - is something we ought to be doing anyway, as human beings.
*The little thing was the con lurgie. The in-between things were chocolate and books. Donna and Matthew don't know quite how much chocolate was packed into their car...
**This is what was staring me in the face and making me feel stupid. Angela Carter and others have written fairy tales along these lines, so why didn't I see it earlier?
One thing that I have drawn from panels and conversations was that when most writers write people-like-us (ie people whose background they understand deeply) they can nuance their depictions even when writing fairly formulaic tales. They have their own lives and the lives of people close to them. They have such a deep understanding of these lives that they may not even articulate that they are nuancing their characters - some writers tell me in class "This is the character forming itself naturally, telling its story." Those stories have been building up inside us, from people we know well.
When writers write people-not-like-us the vast majority of us seem to say "I need this kind of person in my story" and then nudge the person into the shape of the story. Much of this nudging comes from marrying popular stereotypes with the story needs, rather than developing the character from the same complex basis that people-like-us are developed. I heard several writers mention this at Continuum: the plot needed this gender or this sexuality or this skin colour and so a character was formed to fit it. I'm pretty sure that only minor characters were discussed in this context. It wasn't one writer or one panel - it was quite widespread. And not all writers work that way. I was concentrating on those that were talking about it, is all.
My half-realisation of the other day is that for some characters, this nudging isn't necessary. We have perfect character arcs for them. They're often the ones occupied by people-like-us, which is one of the many facets of this I need to ponder some more. But instead of choosing a minor sidekick to be the character that has thought deeply about gender identity and fought societal expectations to win through, why not make them the shepherd who becomes prince/princess?
There are so many classic fantasy plot arcs that would be enriched by making gender and sexuality core issues for the main character**. It adds to the richness of the novel to have a character arc reflected on more than one level. And it means that we can work with stories we know. We just have to learn to see and understand people who are different to us, which - to be very blunt - is something we ought to be doing anyway, as human beings.
*The little thing was the con lurgie. The in-between things were chocolate and books. Donna and Matthew don't know quite how much chocolate was packed into their car...
**This is what was staring me in the face and making me feel stupid. Angela Carter and others have written fairy tales along these lines, so why didn't I see it earlier?
gillpolack @ 2012-06-14T12:18:00
I've been a bit quiet because I developed the post-con-itis. Not a dramatic one - just some breathing issues and a slight loss of voice and a lovely fever and the need to sleep. I would've had the need to sleep in any case, just, possibly, not quite as overwhelmingly. And the voice didn't go until my teaching was finished for the week.
I am finding about myself that I don't like being called 'Ms Polack'. Con reports, in particular, seem to have 'Ms Polack' a lot and I wonder strange thoughts about the reporters. I like 'Ms' even less than I like my surname acquiring an extra 'l', which is good, because right now my surname acquires that extra letter 50% of the time. I would be in so much misery if I worried about that spelling, still!* But I do worry about 'Ms.' My totally favourite form of address is without a title at all ('Gillian Polack' - it really isn't hard) but if one must use a title, then 'Dr Polack' is preferable to the alternatives. Sometime in the undefined future, you may address me as 'Time Lord' if these choices are unsatisfactory, but I'd rather not be called 'Ms Polack.'
This is the grumpiness of a mild virus speaking.
I am grumpy about many things: not buying enough containers to store all my spices so my rearrangement has to wait until I get back to the shops in three weeks; my microwave dying and all the relevant shops forgetting to restock convection microwaves ("We have them, and yes, we'll take your insurance money for them - what, aren't there any on the shelves? Come back in a couple of weeks."); there being not much on TV (I'm sick - I'm allowed to watch TV! Where's my non-repeat SF?! - the only station that has something today doesn't reach my flat because of the shadow) and more. I have so much to whinge about and I'm so grumpy, but all you really need is a sample. The full list will leave you screaming. Anyway, it's all everyday stuff, and the only reason I'm whingeing is my virus, for one of it's symptoms is wild grump**.
My stuff of cheer*** can be found here: http://momentumbooks.com.au/authors/ This means we're into serious countdown! And I will do a giveaway, open anywhere in the world for anyone who buys Ms Cellophane in July who can show her in embarrassing positions****. The package will include a copy of the original Life through Cellophane and other items. I'll wait until Ms Cellophane is actually available before I announce it though.
*I should worry. It's hard to find my books if you look up the wrong name, as many people have discovered. In fact, one person said a little while ago "You don't even have a blog!" And indeed he was half-right for gillpollack does not have a blog.
**Another, obviously, is misplaced apostrophes.
***For yes, there is stuff of cheer.
****This is mainly because Momentum is so very innovative with e-books that it would be a really good idea to find out what can be done with them with evil intent.
I am finding about myself that I don't like being called 'Ms Polack'. Con reports, in particular, seem to have 'Ms Polack' a lot and I wonder strange thoughts about the reporters. I like 'Ms' even less than I like my surname acquiring an extra 'l', which is good, because right now my surname acquires that extra letter 50% of the time. I would be in so much misery if I worried about that spelling, still!* But I do worry about 'Ms.' My totally favourite form of address is without a title at all ('Gillian Polack' - it really isn't hard) but if one must use a title, then 'Dr Polack' is preferable to the alternatives. Sometime in the undefined future, you may address me as 'Time Lord' if these choices are unsatisfactory, but I'd rather not be called 'Ms Polack.'
This is the grumpiness of a mild virus speaking.
I am grumpy about many things: not buying enough containers to store all my spices so my rearrangement has to wait until I get back to the shops in three weeks; my microwave dying and all the relevant shops forgetting to restock convection microwaves ("We have them, and yes, we'll take your insurance money for them - what, aren't there any on the shelves? Come back in a couple of weeks."); there being not much on TV (I'm sick - I'm allowed to watch TV! Where's my non-repeat SF?! - the only station that has something today doesn't reach my flat because of the shadow) and more. I have so much to whinge about and I'm so grumpy, but all you really need is a sample. The full list will leave you screaming. Anyway, it's all everyday stuff, and the only reason I'm whingeing is my virus, for one of it's symptoms is wild grump**.
My stuff of cheer*** can be found here: http://momentumbooks.com.au/authors/ This means we're into serious countdown! And I will do a giveaway, open anywhere in the world for anyone who buys Ms Cellophane in July who can show her in embarrassing positions****. The package will include a copy of the original Life through Cellophane and other items. I'll wait until Ms Cellophane is actually available before I announce it though.
*I should worry. It's hard to find my books if you look up the wrong name, as many people have discovered. In fact, one person said a little while ago "You don't even have a blog!" And indeed he was half-right for gillpollack does not have a blog.
**Another, obviously, is misplaced apostrophes.
***For yes, there is stuff of cheer.
****This is mainly because Momentum is so very innovative with e-books that it would be a really good idea to find out what can be done with them with evil intent.
June 12, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-06-13T15:13:00
I thought you might like a picture of Melbourne, taken on the way home from Continuum on Sunday night. My niece persuaded me to get off the tram and investigate. (There are more pictures in Facebook, if you're curious.)
gillpolack @ 2012-06-12T22:35:00
One last quick post for the day: my BiblioBuffet column went up while I was away. This fortnight it's a little different. I interviewed a single writer (Mike Shevdon) with not-quite-my-usual idea. And now I must sleep. Everything else can wait til tomorrow.
