Gillian Polack's Blog, page 213
January 11, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-01-11T11:11:00
I'm listing again. What's more, I'm making progress with my list, which is a worry. What happens if I catch up with myself? Does my loungeroom implode, to follow my kitchen (which currently has only referred light from elsewhere).
I'm halfway through the final re-read of the latest swag of stuff I need to send to my long-suffering supervisor. He should get it in about an hour, which gives me time to do three more things before I run my messages (Fiat lux! In the kitchen!).
The stuff that I'm working on finally makes some sort of sense. I have ways of describing the stages that writers go through in dealing with history in their fiction, plus (to me a bonus, but apparently rather key to my work right now) what I do myself. What I do myself turns out to be not quite the same as most of the writers I know. The bottom line is that when one has a specialisation, it comes into play in one's fiction, even if one really doesn't intend it to. Where one does intend it to, it becomes a major force in the narrative.
What this means is that all those people who have expressed excitement at a time travel novel written by a Medievalist ought to be cowering in terror. My big hope right now is that the kind fellow-Medievalist who is currently reading it through for me doesn't find too many stupidities. That's the thing about the historian side of me - even if my characterisation is sublime and my story fabulous (neither of which I can be certain of, being too close to it) I shall always worry about the history.
If ever I do this again (write a wildly historical novel), I shall maintain an alternate version, annotated with sources and discussion to show how I arrived at each and every minor decision. I know that I did the work and the thinking, but I can't see it on the page. It's funny, because I do a great deal of research for all my novels, but it's only in this one that I want to be able to demonstrate it to myself.
ETA: My kitchen has light!
I'm halfway through the final re-read of the latest swag of stuff I need to send to my long-suffering supervisor. He should get it in about an hour, which gives me time to do three more things before I run my messages (Fiat lux! In the kitchen!).
The stuff that I'm working on finally makes some sort of sense. I have ways of describing the stages that writers go through in dealing with history in their fiction, plus (to me a bonus, but apparently rather key to my work right now) what I do myself. What I do myself turns out to be not quite the same as most of the writers I know. The bottom line is that when one has a specialisation, it comes into play in one's fiction, even if one really doesn't intend it to. Where one does intend it to, it becomes a major force in the narrative.
What this means is that all those people who have expressed excitement at a time travel novel written by a Medievalist ought to be cowering in terror. My big hope right now is that the kind fellow-Medievalist who is currently reading it through for me doesn't find too many stupidities. That's the thing about the historian side of me - even if my characterisation is sublime and my story fabulous (neither of which I can be certain of, being too close to it) I shall always worry about the history.
If ever I do this again (write a wildly historical novel), I shall maintain an alternate version, annotated with sources and discussion to show how I arrived at each and every minor decision. I know that I did the work and the thinking, but I can't see it on the page. It's funny, because I do a great deal of research for all my novels, but it's only in this one that I want to be able to demonstrate it to myself.
ETA: My kitchen has light!
January 10, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-01-10T13:31:00
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. So many small things keep going wrong!
I've been troubleshooting madly and a few things are solved. I have had to give up on my old email client (it would send, but not receive) and have set up Thunderbird. I can't get my main email address set up on Thunderbird and can't send from my ANU account from anywhere except the web. I've now got light in the bedroom, but the kitchen and the refrigerator lights both need replacing. I've found a temporary solution for the death of the loungeroom curtain hooks, but am not tall enough to effect it, or to change the kitchen light for that matter, but the latter is moot because I have nothing to replace it with until I next run messages*.
And this is where I give up listing. There are more things, but I can either troubleshoot or I can work or I can complain. Some of the problems (the physical ones, for instance) will pass when they're ready. I've troubleshot and now it's time to work until dinnertime. Tomorrow I'll run some messages and then see what else is possible in the way of dealing with those pesky ants. I've run out of my allocated time for complaining.
*Because I don't drive, it's not just a matter of nipping up the street for small things. It takes at least an hour, and usually two or three. Since this eats into worktime, I save things up and run a bunch of messages at once. I took a half day to run messages on Sunday, and can't do the same until I've done enough work to warrant all that time out. The price of working from home is putting work ahead of small problems. During term time I can run most small messages on the way home from teaching on Wednesdays - it dents my time much less.
I've been troubleshooting madly and a few things are solved. I have had to give up on my old email client (it would send, but not receive) and have set up Thunderbird. I can't get my main email address set up on Thunderbird and can't send from my ANU account from anywhere except the web. I've now got light in the bedroom, but the kitchen and the refrigerator lights both need replacing. I've found a temporary solution for the death of the loungeroom curtain hooks, but am not tall enough to effect it, or to change the kitchen light for that matter, but the latter is moot because I have nothing to replace it with until I next run messages*.
And this is where I give up listing. There are more things, but I can either troubleshoot or I can work or I can complain. Some of the problems (the physical ones, for instance) will pass when they're ready. I've troubleshot and now it's time to work until dinnertime. Tomorrow I'll run some messages and then see what else is possible in the way of dealing with those pesky ants. I've run out of my allocated time for complaining.
*Because I don't drive, it's not just a matter of nipping up the street for small things. It takes at least an hour, and usually two or three. Since this eats into worktime, I save things up and run a bunch of messages at once. I took a half day to run messages on Sunday, and can't do the same until I've done enough work to warrant all that time out. The price of working from home is putting work ahead of small problems. During term time I can run most small messages on the way home from teaching on Wednesdays - it dents my time much less.
January 9, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-01-09T16:47:00
Part two of three of favourite books that are not quite hot-off-the-press is up at BiblioBuffet. This week the works are those beloved by some of my fellow writers at BiblioBuffet, so you get to meet them, as a bonus.
My own views on the subject will appear in a fortnight. Or will they? It all depends on the state of my notes...
My own views on the subject will appear in a fortnight. Or will they? It all depends on the state of my notes...
gillpolack @ 2012-01-09T11:23:00
I'm between tasks right now and all I can think of is that the list of people whose books I won't go out of my way to get seems to be increasing. It just grew by two. I was reading blogs (what one does when one is in between tasks on a tired Monday) and ventured outside my usual haunts and found two writers who couldn't even maintain my interest for two paragraphs.
Which reminds me, I have one review book to write up and three to read and three Aurealis books to read. This is what I'm supposed to be doing in my break. Instead, I'm wondering why some writers don't see that their blogs are windows into their writing for some readers.
Which reminds me, I have one review book to write up and three to read and three Aurealis books to read. This is what I'm supposed to be doing in my break. Instead, I'm wondering why some writers don't see that their blogs are windows into their writing for some readers.
January 8, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-01-08T14:23:00
My workshop for the ASFFWA is already full. They're willing (possibly even eager) to run more, however, should there be enough interest. You can find the details here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Australian-Science-Fiction-Fantasy-Writers-Association/109691049061218
January 7, 2012
gillpolack @ 2012-01-07T23:23:00
All I can say about this is that
![[info]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1380916456i/3231018.gif)
desperance
is a bad, bad influence...
In 2012,
gillpolack
resolves to...Put fifty interstitial arts a month into my savings account.
Tell my family about fantasy books.
Give some computers to charity.
Take evening classes in religion.
Ask my boss for a feminism.
Lose ten middle ages by March.
Get your own New Year's Resolutions:
desperance
is a bad, bad influence...In 2012,
gillpolack
resolves to...Put fifty interstitial arts a month into my savings account.Tell my family about fantasy books.
Give some computers to charity.
Take evening classes in religion.
Ask my boss for a feminism.
Lose ten middle ages by March.
Get your own New Year's Resolutions:
gillpolack @ 2012-01-07T14:01:00
The body language of Lost in Space annoyed me (little girls have slightly bowed heads and big pleading eyes and little boys have intrusive cheeky 'own the world' attitudes), so I'm giving it a miss and watching bits of the Richard Green Robin Hood, instead. This means I'm back to the Middle Ages. I'm also nearly finished the editing I was supposed to be finished before things went pearshaped. I should be up to entering it on the computer tonight. (things are still pearshaped - but slowly improving.)
Robin Hood was a pleasant surprise. I watched it avidly when I was extraordinarily young. Now that I'm considerably old, my view has changed. I started comparing the fifties Robin to the twenty-first century Robin and the fifties was a lot more interesting. It's not just that there are guest parts from all sorts of actors who became part of my childhood (Patrick Troughton, for instance, and Paul Eddington as part of the band of merry men), it's more that the makers of it actually checked up the Middle Ages a bit. It's still bad history, but it's seldom zombie ancestry history. Terms like heriot are misused, but they *are* used.
The big thing I love about the series is the writers (although Richard Greene is just as much fun as when I was six - he's taller and younger, though - I have no idea why my child-memory says that he was short and middle-aged): I just found out that the writers were blacklisted in the US. The wonders of the internet! Hannah Weinstein is someone I need to find more about. She took the production of Robin Hood to the UK, but employed US writers. They used false names or no names in the attributed work and so they had employment despite the blacklisting and their work reached the US despite McCarthy. What's even cooler is that this Robin was properly political - these writers knew about repression and they were wildly left-wing and it all appears in the script.
This is common knowledge. It's even in Wikipedia. It's new to me, though. I was enwrapped in the heroism of my childhood memory and had never thought about its contexts.
One day I'll find the academic writings on this. I would love to read a detailed comparison of the politics of the different Robin manifestations. In the meantime, I shall just enjoy knowing that the popular TV series of the fifties and of sixties Australia, was probably more subversive than Men in Tights.
Robin Hood was a pleasant surprise. I watched it avidly when I was extraordinarily young. Now that I'm considerably old, my view has changed. I started comparing the fifties Robin to the twenty-first century Robin and the fifties was a lot more interesting. It's not just that there are guest parts from all sorts of actors who became part of my childhood (Patrick Troughton, for instance, and Paul Eddington as part of the band of merry men), it's more that the makers of it actually checked up the Middle Ages a bit. It's still bad history, but it's seldom zombie ancestry history. Terms like heriot are misused, but they *are* used.
The big thing I love about the series is the writers (although Richard Greene is just as much fun as when I was six - he's taller and younger, though - I have no idea why my child-memory says that he was short and middle-aged): I just found out that the writers were blacklisted in the US. The wonders of the internet! Hannah Weinstein is someone I need to find more about. She took the production of Robin Hood to the UK, but employed US writers. They used false names or no names in the attributed work and so they had employment despite the blacklisting and their work reached the US despite McCarthy. What's even cooler is that this Robin was properly political - these writers knew about repression and they were wildly left-wing and it all appears in the script.
This is common knowledge. It's even in Wikipedia. It's new to me, though. I was enwrapped in the heroism of my childhood memory and had never thought about its contexts.
One day I'll find the academic writings on this. I would love to read a detailed comparison of the politics of the different Robin manifestations. In the meantime, I shall just enjoy knowing that the popular TV series of the fifties and of sixties Australia, was probably more subversive than Men in Tights.
January 6, 2012
teaching roundup
ASFFWA has begun an online progam. The first bits of it are by myself (an online Tuesday-night writing workshop) and by Jennifer Fallon (a live chat). My workshop starts in nine days and was only advertised (to members) just over a day ago and it's nearly full. This is good! What's even better is that the ASFFWA people are willing to take names for people interested in repeats of this course or for other courses. There's outstanding training for writers in some major Australian centres, but it's hard for lots of people, and they're interested in making a difference.
The particular workshop that they've chosen to to test the waters is one I've taught several times online, once to editors. It was analysed very thoroughly by the editor group and they liked my approach and technique. Technically, it's about writing using the five senses, but the focus is very closely on students' writing styles. No neat formulae of "No adjectives" or "Writing descriptions should be couched in this way."
What else am I teaching this semester? I'm so glad you asked! For a start, everything else is in Canberra. The ACT Writers' Centre courses don't have dates on them yet, but there are some and one of them will probably concern grammar for writers. Everything else is ANU.
The ANU classes are Latin for beginners (which is probably a one-off), writing novels, and, of course building your own Medieval society (for writing and playing).
And that's it for now!
The particular workshop that they've chosen to to test the waters is one I've taught several times online, once to editors. It was analysed very thoroughly by the editor group and they liked my approach and technique. Technically, it's about writing using the five senses, but the focus is very closely on students' writing styles. No neat formulae of "No adjectives" or "Writing descriptions should be couched in this way."
What else am I teaching this semester? I'm so glad you asked! For a start, everything else is in Canberra. The ACT Writers' Centre courses don't have dates on them yet, but there are some and one of them will probably concern grammar for writers. Everything else is ANU.
The ANU classes are Latin for beginners (which is probably a one-off), writing novels, and, of course building your own Medieval society (for writing and playing).
And that's it for now!
gillpolack @ 2012-01-06T17:35:00
I saw the dentist and it's going to be a challenging year dentally. We're both working out how much can be done of what needs to be done.
I got edits back on something and the editor and I may not agree on things. What I do in that case is read and re-read the edits until I've worked out what we both think we're doing. 99% of the time I can find out ways of improving the piece that will work for both of us. In this case, it's my interpretation he doesn't like, which may be more problematic, but we'll see.
I'm running a solid fever and plan for a quiet weekend. There will be work, because Monday is the start of my deadlines, but I won't push beyond my comfort zones. If the fever is still round on Monday, I'll take me and it and a load of work to the doctor.
In the meantime, I'm watching a few episodes of The Avengers (Diana Rigg episodes). I knew the watching was going to be fun when Peter Cushing and Nicholas Courtenay turned up. The library couldn't give me a complete series, but ten episodes is just enough.
I got edits back on something and the editor and I may not agree on things. What I do in that case is read and re-read the edits until I've worked out what we both think we're doing. 99% of the time I can find out ways of improving the piece that will work for both of us. In this case, it's my interpretation he doesn't like, which may be more problematic, but we'll see.
I'm running a solid fever and plan for a quiet weekend. There will be work, because Monday is the start of my deadlines, but I won't push beyond my comfort zones. If the fever is still round on Monday, I'll take me and it and a load of work to the doctor.
In the meantime, I'm watching a few episodes of The Avengers (Diana Rigg episodes). I knew the watching was going to be fun when Peter Cushing and Nicholas Courtenay turned up. The library couldn't give me a complete series, but ten episodes is just enough.
January 5, 2012
Vale Jimmy
In a couple of years, many more of you reading this would have known Jimmy Goodrum. He was just approaching that point in his writing career where stories are published and novels are noticed and where one moves from being very private to being somewhat public.
He was working hard (very hard) at the invisible paddling we all have to do to make writing happen and stories grow. He was almost ready to show us his novel. His words and thoughts reflected his work. I noticed the changes in crit groups. He was thinking about writing in a different way, and his comments on books were more analytical and profound.
Jimmy was a very good critic. It was bugging me that his criticisms were made verbally, to friends. I suggested to him at the CSFG end of year party that he should think about moving into doing some written criticism. I loved his approach to texts. He saw nuances and subtleties. He enjoyed fine prose and understood rhythm.
He was already a writer. He was published, but not yet known.
It's always a tragedy when someone dies young. It's worse for their friends when the death is unexpected, and life is left so very incomplete. Jimmy drowned on Christmas Eve. His funeral is this afternoon. None of the breakthroughs we were expecting for him will happen.
Jimmy didn't waste his short time. He had a gift for living. Also for clothes. He certainly didn't see the world through rose-coloured glasses - he was critical, but positive.
There's so much more I want to say about him, but I can't. All the small idiocies of this week come back to the fact that he's no longer with us. I want to tell you more about him - his many kindnesses, his gorgeous wife, the books we exchanged ("We need to ransom each others' books," was our last conversation. "It's a good excuse to talk about them.") He was a huge fan of Paul McAuley and was desperately jealous that I met McAuley, last July.
Jimmy was one of those people whose presence made a room a better place to be in. I don't want to go to his funeral.
He was working hard (very hard) at the invisible paddling we all have to do to make writing happen and stories grow. He was almost ready to show us his novel. His words and thoughts reflected his work. I noticed the changes in crit groups. He was thinking about writing in a different way, and his comments on books were more analytical and profound.
Jimmy was a very good critic. It was bugging me that his criticisms were made verbally, to friends. I suggested to him at the CSFG end of year party that he should think about moving into doing some written criticism. I loved his approach to texts. He saw nuances and subtleties. He enjoyed fine prose and understood rhythm.
He was already a writer. He was published, but not yet known.
It's always a tragedy when someone dies young. It's worse for their friends when the death is unexpected, and life is left so very incomplete. Jimmy drowned on Christmas Eve. His funeral is this afternoon. None of the breakthroughs we were expecting for him will happen.
Jimmy didn't waste his short time. He had a gift for living. Also for clothes. He certainly didn't see the world through rose-coloured glasses - he was critical, but positive.
There's so much more I want to say about him, but I can't. All the small idiocies of this week come back to the fact that he's no longer with us. I want to tell you more about him - his many kindnesses, his gorgeous wife, the books we exchanged ("We need to ransom each others' books," was our last conversation. "It's a good excuse to talk about them.") He was a huge fan of Paul McAuley and was desperately jealous that I met McAuley, last July.
Jimmy was one of those people whose presence made a room a better place to be in. I don't want to go to his funeral.
