Gillian Polack's Blog, page 236
August 15, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-08-16T09:53:00
I started the day with a note of FB saying that someone had spotted a copy of Life through Cellophane in a library. I was so excited. I (in my sleepiness, first thing in the morning) read 'library' in French and thought that this meant there were copies in a bookshop. Copies in the wild!
If there are any copies in the wild still, they're in a single bookshop in Canberra, and I really do need to start exploring my options for the book now I have the rights back. I have so much else to do right now, though, and most of these things have datestamps on them. Still, it was a nice bit of news to start the day with - knowing that your book is arguing with readers that they really ought to borrow it isn't such a bad thing.
For writers and re-enactors out there, let me make you a bit less unhappy with me: last night I was working on the Beast. There is definite progress in the Land of Beastliness, though it may be a few months before progress turns to reportable news.
If there are any copies in the wild still, they're in a single bookshop in Canberra, and I really do need to start exploring my options for the book now I have the rights back. I have so much else to do right now, though, and most of these things have datestamps on them. Still, it was a nice bit of news to start the day with - knowing that your book is arguing with readers that they really ought to borrow it isn't such a bad thing.
For writers and re-enactors out there, let me make you a bit less unhappy with me: last night I was working on the Beast. There is definite progress in the Land of Beastliness, though it may be a few months before progress turns to reportable news.
gillpolack @ 2011-08-15T13:42:00
Another announcement! Today is BiblioBuffet day. I wrote this before I left for Europe.
When I was in the UK I picked up another facsimile Haggadah - I think I shall have to write solely about haggadot one of these days. Today though, I've written a review essay about three volumes of Jewish history. Blanis will be mentioned in my class tomorrow, I think, and Carlebach has been informing my thinking ever since I picked her book up.
If you want to make sense of this post, you might have to read my piece. I dare you... Or you could just go and admire the very lovely covers. I want more of these kinds of books, both for content and illustrations. While you are torn about whether you want to read my review or not, I shall remain un-torn and shall go look at a pictoral Jewish zodiac from the 18th century for a minute. Then it's back to work.
When I was in the UK I picked up another facsimile Haggadah - I think I shall have to write solely about haggadot one of these days. Today though, I've written a review essay about three volumes of Jewish history. Blanis will be mentioned in my class tomorrow, I think, and Carlebach has been informing my thinking ever since I picked her book up.
If you want to make sense of this post, you might have to read my piece. I dare you... Or you could just go and admire the very lovely covers. I want more of these kinds of books, both for content and illustrations. While you are torn about whether you want to read my review or not, I shall remain un-torn and shall go look at a pictoral Jewish zodiac from the 18th century for a minute. Then it's back to work.
Australian spec fic blog carnival
This month's carnival is now ready for your delectation and perusal on Nicole Murphy's blog: http://nicolermurphy.com/
It's in two parts. Huge. Enormous. A Daikaiju of a carnival. Also, it includes a lot more than blog posts - you can find listening, reading, announcements - everything! 'Everything,' of course, includes pictures of literary daleks. From Queensland. How could it not.
(And in less important news, two more of my articles have winged their way to editors. The end may not be in sight, but the terrain is certainly less hazardous.)
It's in two parts. Huge. Enormous. A Daikaiju of a carnival. Also, it includes a lot more than blog posts - you can find listening, reading, announcements - everything! 'Everything,' of course, includes pictures of literary daleks. From Queensland. How could it not.
(And in less important news, two more of my articles have winged their way to editors. The end may not be in sight, but the terrain is certainly less hazardous.)
August 14, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-08-15T00:00:00
I'm doing exciting waiting-for-downloads. A very important part of my work life. It means I get to scatter my mind all over the place and see what it brings home, magpie-like.
Actually, these particular downloads are rather important. I'm waiting for the very last piece of my French research that will mean I can sit comfortably in my big armchair and draft novel. This last thing are my pictures, which need annotating and pondering which means paper (and it also means blowing them up big, which is exciting). Although not the castle.
I have so sorted that mysterious castle. I can show anyone in great detail using the pictures I took. My little camera saw more than my eyes did and all my theories have been reinforced six times over. Why is this so important? Well, it means I don't have to change even a single plotline or add a minor character to deal with that castle. And it's pretty. Also very clever. And the whole supply thing has become moot. Lots of wonderful things make sense and work when you find out what something really, truly looks like.
I've written drafts of nearly two of my articles (on top of the one that went yesterday) but have been too busy pondering the streets of my current favourite town to finish the third. I'm 300 words into the third, though. This means, in an ideal world, I can finish all three tomorrow. Which means I can do my teaching preparation for all three sets of teaching, all at once, like an ordinary human being. And *this* means that there's a possibility of being back to normal (Gillian's normal) by Thursday. I can get back to the dissertation and finish the long list of things I promised people while I was away.
One other thing came up today. Book launches. If anyone would really, really like an invitation to the launch of the cookbook, please let me know soon. I don't know how many invites I'll be allowed to hand out (since the launch is part of Conflux) but if you would like to come, let me know and I'll put you on my list. All Conflux attendees are automatically permitted to come, so if you're coming to Conflux just turn up on the day and give me a hard time.
While I'm being useful, there are still places in my Tuesday class on magic and myths and etc. The one I shall prepare for tomorrow with seriously cool handouts.
If enough people in the class want, I will talk about how the whole witch thing developed and the relationship of the witch craze with learned magic. I had a whole new piece of that puzzle slot into place in Leeds, because of a research project someone else is doing. I also have sorted out more about the relationship of saints and epic legends and national histories, of course, just as a natural side effect of the current research. And I have some nice new pictures of the bones of dead people. I take votes on these things, so if the class would rather Arthur or Robin Hood than the bones of dead people or how heresy trials turned into witch trials, well, I will teach Arthur or Robin Hood. When I teach Robin Hood, though, my class has to sing. Always. It's a rule. It's my way of effectively communicating my favourite pastourelle.
Friends I am meeting for dinner in Sydney, I can teach you the song if you have a particular desire to sing about how Robin loves you. I may quietly edge away form the table, but I am willing to teach you.
And, in other news, I spent an hour this afternoon adding em-dashes to various things. Serves me right for promising to teach Sydneysiders punctuation. Next time I'll teach Sydneysiders how to be rude in Old French. Which is part of what I'm teaching at my Conflux workshop, just in case you were wondering.
Now that I have effectively muddied many waters, I ought to get back and write just a bit more. Every hundred words finished is a movement towards a less bizarre working day. This is my current theory.
Actually, these particular downloads are rather important. I'm waiting for the very last piece of my French research that will mean I can sit comfortably in my big armchair and draft novel. This last thing are my pictures, which need annotating and pondering which means paper (and it also means blowing them up big, which is exciting). Although not the castle.
I have so sorted that mysterious castle. I can show anyone in great detail using the pictures I took. My little camera saw more than my eyes did and all my theories have been reinforced six times over. Why is this so important? Well, it means I don't have to change even a single plotline or add a minor character to deal with that castle. And it's pretty. Also very clever. And the whole supply thing has become moot. Lots of wonderful things make sense and work when you find out what something really, truly looks like.
I've written drafts of nearly two of my articles (on top of the one that went yesterday) but have been too busy pondering the streets of my current favourite town to finish the third. I'm 300 words into the third, though. This means, in an ideal world, I can finish all three tomorrow. Which means I can do my teaching preparation for all three sets of teaching, all at once, like an ordinary human being. And *this* means that there's a possibility of being back to normal (Gillian's normal) by Thursday. I can get back to the dissertation and finish the long list of things I promised people while I was away.
One other thing came up today. Book launches. If anyone would really, really like an invitation to the launch of the cookbook, please let me know soon. I don't know how many invites I'll be allowed to hand out (since the launch is part of Conflux) but if you would like to come, let me know and I'll put you on my list. All Conflux attendees are automatically permitted to come, so if you're coming to Conflux just turn up on the day and give me a hard time.
While I'm being useful, there are still places in my Tuesday class on magic and myths and etc. The one I shall prepare for tomorrow with seriously cool handouts.
If enough people in the class want, I will talk about how the whole witch thing developed and the relationship of the witch craze with learned magic. I had a whole new piece of that puzzle slot into place in Leeds, because of a research project someone else is doing. I also have sorted out more about the relationship of saints and epic legends and national histories, of course, just as a natural side effect of the current research. And I have some nice new pictures of the bones of dead people. I take votes on these things, so if the class would rather Arthur or Robin Hood than the bones of dead people or how heresy trials turned into witch trials, well, I will teach Arthur or Robin Hood. When I teach Robin Hood, though, my class has to sing. Always. It's a rule. It's my way of effectively communicating my favourite pastourelle.
Friends I am meeting for dinner in Sydney, I can teach you the song if you have a particular desire to sing about how Robin loves you. I may quietly edge away form the table, but I am willing to teach you.
And, in other news, I spent an hour this afternoon adding em-dashes to various things. Serves me right for promising to teach Sydneysiders punctuation. Next time I'll teach Sydneysiders how to be rude in Old French. Which is part of what I'm teaching at my Conflux workshop, just in case you were wondering.
Now that I have effectively muddied many waters, I ought to get back and write just a bit more. Every hundred words finished is a movement towards a less bizarre working day. This is my current theory.
gillpolack @ 2011-08-14T15:22:00
My internet is getting shakier and shakier today, so of course I am posting. I am logical in that very particular backwards fashion.
What's prompted this post is something Monissa said, which fitted closely in with related things other people have said to me recently.
How do you know what a character knows? How do you then depict it? It's the same question I get asked when people want to set novels in, say, the Middle Ages. The first thing you do is find out who this character is. The absolute basics. Where were they born, and when? Then you can move to the next stage: what education did they get? What shared knowledge does everyone have from that place and time?
Asking someone in the US what a character born in 1931 France would know at age 45 about Jews is only useful if your informant is an expert on the subject of French knowledge of Jews, or the French education system, or something related (eg pop culture, key headline stories from that character's adulthood). Start with when and where the person was born, and then find people who are likely to have the right knowledge set to answer your question.
It's the same as researching a setting because "the Middle Ages" isn't nearly as handy as a starting place for knowing what people eat, what the ground is like underfoot, whether there is a local pollution problem for, say "Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert in 1305." Pollution in Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert is one of the things I'm looking at tomorrow, in fact, all going well. Or all going better than today, at the least.
Start with the precise person and build up from there. Start with the precise place and time and build up from there. It makes writing history into fiction a great deal easier! If you don't have a person and if you don't have a place and if you don't have a time, then you need a reason for not having those things and that reason should carry some of your answers. If it doesn't, what are you writing? It may be that you're not writing something that needs history or personal history or memory at all*.
*This is a worry for me, personally, but I'm like Alice in her need of pictures and conversations in books - I need memories and people. it's not a worry for all books, just if you want me as a reader.
What's prompted this post is something Monissa said, which fitted closely in with related things other people have said to me recently.
How do you know what a character knows? How do you then depict it? It's the same question I get asked when people want to set novels in, say, the Middle Ages. The first thing you do is find out who this character is. The absolute basics. Where were they born, and when? Then you can move to the next stage: what education did they get? What shared knowledge does everyone have from that place and time?
Asking someone in the US what a character born in 1931 France would know at age 45 about Jews is only useful if your informant is an expert on the subject of French knowledge of Jews, or the French education system, or something related (eg pop culture, key headline stories from that character's adulthood). Start with when and where the person was born, and then find people who are likely to have the right knowledge set to answer your question.
It's the same as researching a setting because "the Middle Ages" isn't nearly as handy as a starting place for knowing what people eat, what the ground is like underfoot, whether there is a local pollution problem for, say "Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert in 1305." Pollution in Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert is one of the things I'm looking at tomorrow, in fact, all going well. Or all going better than today, at the least.
Start with the precise person and build up from there. Start with the precise place and time and build up from there. It makes writing history into fiction a great deal easier! If you don't have a person and if you don't have a place and if you don't have a time, then you need a reason for not having those things and that reason should carry some of your answers. If it doesn't, what are you writing? It may be that you're not writing something that needs history or personal history or memory at all*.
*This is a worry for me, personally, but I'm like Alice in her need of pictures and conversations in books - I need memories and people. it's not a worry for all books, just if you want me as a reader.
gillpolack @ 2011-08-14T11:05:00
My web access is slow and my email a tad unreliable. This seems to happen to me from time to time. If you don't hear from me, this may be why.
I took two hours off last night and watched TV (ABC decided that it would actually let me see it, for a wonder) and then I thought "Let me just go to sleep." So I did. It turns out that I have a very mild version of the virus my mother has just got over, so I'm going back to bed for two more hours. Then I shall work furiously. Then I shall rest again.
I got entirely up-to-date on the really urgent stuff before my body became so insistent on rest. If I can manage eight hours of work today (maybe in several batches) then I should remain on top of the urgent stuff. Now, however, I am going back to bed.
I took two hours off last night and watched TV (ABC decided that it would actually let me see it, for a wonder) and then I thought "Let me just go to sleep." So I did. It turns out that I have a very mild version of the virus my mother has just got over, so I'm going back to bed for two more hours. Then I shall work furiously. Then I shall rest again.
I got entirely up-to-date on the really urgent stuff before my body became so insistent on rest. If I can manage eight hours of work today (maybe in several batches) then I should remain on top of the urgent stuff. Now, however, I am going back to bed.
August 13, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-08-13T12:50:00
My computer is slow today and my email is slower. I'd like to posit that this is the universe telling me something, but, in reality, it's just that systems are slow. It does, however, give me an excuse for not giving an update.
There's not much to update, anyhow. I'm steadily working my way through the things that must be worked through and I have every expectation of sorting the worst of it by mid-week. This means I get to write more entirely fluffy posts and to make bad jokes. If I were you, I would find a place to hide now, since the jokes could be very bad indeed.
There's not much to update, anyhow. I'm steadily working my way through the things that must be worked through and I have every expectation of sorting the worst of it by mid-week. This means I get to write more entirely fluffy posts and to make bad jokes. If I were you, I would find a place to hide now, since the jokes could be very bad indeed.
August 12, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-08-12T23:07:00
I will be in Canberra for Jewish NY proper this year, because of Conflux. There will be honeycake at my place for anyone who can get there, also home made liqueurs. Dietary restrictions definitely can be catered for. Pot luck dinner is possible if anyone urgently craves it.
While you dream of my special honeycake, I shall dream in reality, for I have reached the point where sleep beckons. Look! I'm almost relaxed!
While you dream of my special honeycake, I shall dream in reality, for I have reached the point where sleep beckons. Look! I'm almost relaxed!
gillpolack @ 2011-08-12T22:22:00
I have revised my evil article, sort of. I haven't entered my revisions on the computer yet, because there must be something wrong when I have only really changed about 100 words. Tomorrow I shall look at it again, and fix it to requisite citation and etc style all at the same time. Then I email it and then it's gone until the editor says "Hate it." The editor will say that because right now I think it. (Editors don't tend to say that about my work, but I really do hate that piece and wonder why I ever thought about it and why I offered and why anyone ever said they wanted to see it.)
Anyhow, it is done. What's more, I have done the first 250 words of each of two other articles. There is every possibility of finishing ALL THREE by Monday. And the cookbook has been with the typesetter (hi, Andrew!) for *days* and he hasn't yet sent evil angels after me. And one whole sheaf of dockets is ready to post to UWA to be drawn into the administrative depths for analysis. And I have eaten 60% of a bar of chocolate. And I have actually sent some of those emails I promised to send, when I got home and started the action that must needs result due to stuff wot happened in my travels. If I can finish with the three scariest segments of these by Monday plus another revision-thingie that got put aside because of going away and that I forgot about upon my return, I shall be in a much better position to enjoy next week than I was to enjoy this.
I like work. I really do like work. I just don't like quite as much work with quite that sword of Damocles feel.
If I can finish all the things in that last paragraph by Monday (plus run some messages tomorrow), then the sword of Damocles will have been taken away. Someone else will have to suffer it. I can let them have the remainder of my chocolate, if it will help.
Anyhow, it is done. What's more, I have done the first 250 words of each of two other articles. There is every possibility of finishing ALL THREE by Monday. And the cookbook has been with the typesetter (hi, Andrew!) for *days* and he hasn't yet sent evil angels after me. And one whole sheaf of dockets is ready to post to UWA to be drawn into the administrative depths for analysis. And I have eaten 60% of a bar of chocolate. And I have actually sent some of those emails I promised to send, when I got home and started the action that must needs result due to stuff wot happened in my travels. If I can finish with the three scariest segments of these by Monday plus another revision-thingie that got put aside because of going away and that I forgot about upon my return, I shall be in a much better position to enjoy next week than I was to enjoy this.
I like work. I really do like work. I just don't like quite as much work with quite that sword of Damocles feel.
If I can finish all the things in that last paragraph by Monday (plus run some messages tomorrow), then the sword of Damocles will have been taken away. Someone else will have to suffer it. I can let them have the remainder of my chocolate, if it will help.
gillpolack @ 2011-08-12T13:11:00
I'm only a bit less grouchy this afternoon than yesterday. People around me keep forgetting to do things (or forgot while I was away) and I have to solve the resultant problems. It's all urgent stuff and a lot depends on it.
This is not normally a big deal, but right now I need a couple of days off. I need to hang round and watch my French superhero series, or read my BD, or talk on the phone without work resulting. In other words, I need a weekend to sort myself out after so much very hard work while I was overseas. I also need two days in bed, but that's not going to happen until my body finally realises that Australian time is where it needs to be.
The good news is that sleep at the regular time really diminishes the pain levels. The bad news is too many people are dumping things in my lap. Discovering more and still more work that I laboured hard to get under control before I left that is now not under control because people forgot while I was gone is not helpful. I don't want to have to remind people that I was ill while I was away. In fact, I shouldn't have to. Or that I wasn't on holiday.
I have made significant inroads on some crucial tasks: I've done the minimum amount of work so that I won't be thrown out of my PhD; I've done 2/3 of the urgent follow-up paperwork from my trip. All this would be great, if more stuff didn't keep appearing and if it wasn't all stuff that I had set up to happen without too much effort from anyone while I was away. Everyone who rings or emails thinks that they're the only person who has forgotten something and that it's only the one thing. All of them are blithely unapologetic. After all, I just had a month off. Or away, which counts as off.
I didn't even get to watch TV for an hour anytime this week without a phonecall or work intervening - this meant that a friend who rang last of all and just wanted to catch up got an earful, which was so not fair on her! (although I did disappear to Woden Plaza on Tuesday - 6 glorious hours without problems!)
Anyhow, I have made a decision. A Big Decision. I am taking Annual Holiday this year. A few days. Up to a fortnight. It will be at a time convenient to me and to no-one else (except maybe my mother). I will not follow up on emails during that time. I will not organise anything. I will not remind anyone of anything promised that hasn't arrived or check the work of anyone else to make sure it's OK. I will not act as an intermediary or do paperwork.
What's more, I'm not going to tell anyone when this holiday is happening until I'm actually on leave.
When I went on my very work-filled trip I let everyone know and checked that they all knew what had to be done and that I'd done everything to make it possible, after all. And I came back to a month's work in several areas that didn't quite happen, quite a bit of which I had to do myself (that list I made the other day of work I had done was somewhat incomplete - I did 100 hours of work my first eight days back, much of it sorting out other peoples' problems). So this time no-one gets warning beyond this post. And this time I'm not working while I'm away. I will take a break.
Thank you to all the friends who told me to rest, yesterday. I have to sort out the time difference problem (and why I have it) - dcotor's orders. I can't just sleep. And I don't have much recourse for the stuff that's happening now, because it's all running late and it's all time-dependent. I am doing the best I can, honestly - I don't want to be ill again.
The good news is that the inflammation from the flights went down considerably yesterday. I slept much better last night. I'm much slimmer than I was the whole time I was travelling. It all hurt as it went down (of course, this is a week when things hurt) but in an hour I lost two inches around the waist and a whole shoesize. This means that in a day or two I will be through the painful part of my own body cycle (remember that one day a month when everything hurts beyond bearing? that was yesterday) and it will be easier to deal with what life throws at me.
In fact, (since I rather like hard work) life will be significantly better from tomorrow. Just as long as other peoples' crises stop happening and I can get the eight hours remaining on my own urgent thingie (due tomorrow) I will be able to stop whingeing and start getting on with living.
This is not normally a big deal, but right now I need a couple of days off. I need to hang round and watch my French superhero series, or read my BD, or talk on the phone without work resulting. In other words, I need a weekend to sort myself out after so much very hard work while I was overseas. I also need two days in bed, but that's not going to happen until my body finally realises that Australian time is where it needs to be.
The good news is that sleep at the regular time really diminishes the pain levels. The bad news is too many people are dumping things in my lap. Discovering more and still more work that I laboured hard to get under control before I left that is now not under control because people forgot while I was gone is not helpful. I don't want to have to remind people that I was ill while I was away. In fact, I shouldn't have to. Or that I wasn't on holiday.
I have made significant inroads on some crucial tasks: I've done the minimum amount of work so that I won't be thrown out of my PhD; I've done 2/3 of the urgent follow-up paperwork from my trip. All this would be great, if more stuff didn't keep appearing and if it wasn't all stuff that I had set up to happen without too much effort from anyone while I was away. Everyone who rings or emails thinks that they're the only person who has forgotten something and that it's only the one thing. All of them are blithely unapologetic. After all, I just had a month off. Or away, which counts as off.
I didn't even get to watch TV for an hour anytime this week without a phonecall or work intervening - this meant that a friend who rang last of all and just wanted to catch up got an earful, which was so not fair on her! (although I did disappear to Woden Plaza on Tuesday - 6 glorious hours without problems!)
Anyhow, I have made a decision. A Big Decision. I am taking Annual Holiday this year. A few days. Up to a fortnight. It will be at a time convenient to me and to no-one else (except maybe my mother). I will not follow up on emails during that time. I will not organise anything. I will not remind anyone of anything promised that hasn't arrived or check the work of anyone else to make sure it's OK. I will not act as an intermediary or do paperwork.
What's more, I'm not going to tell anyone when this holiday is happening until I'm actually on leave.
When I went on my very work-filled trip I let everyone know and checked that they all knew what had to be done and that I'd done everything to make it possible, after all. And I came back to a month's work in several areas that didn't quite happen, quite a bit of which I had to do myself (that list I made the other day of work I had done was somewhat incomplete - I did 100 hours of work my first eight days back, much of it sorting out other peoples' problems). So this time no-one gets warning beyond this post. And this time I'm not working while I'm away. I will take a break.
Thank you to all the friends who told me to rest, yesterday. I have to sort out the time difference problem (and why I have it) - dcotor's orders. I can't just sleep. And I don't have much recourse for the stuff that's happening now, because it's all running late and it's all time-dependent. I am doing the best I can, honestly - I don't want to be ill again.
The good news is that the inflammation from the flights went down considerably yesterday. I slept much better last night. I'm much slimmer than I was the whole time I was travelling. It all hurt as it went down (of course, this is a week when things hurt) but in an hour I lost two inches around the waist and a whole shoesize. This means that in a day or two I will be through the painful part of my own body cycle (remember that one day a month when everything hurts beyond bearing? that was yesterday) and it will be easier to deal with what life throws at me.
In fact, (since I rather like hard work) life will be significantly better from tomorrow. Just as long as other peoples' crises stop happening and I can get the eight hours remaining on my own urgent thingie (due tomorrow) I will be able to stop whingeing and start getting on with living.
