Gillian Polack's Blog, page 32
May 7, 2015
gillpolack @ 2015-05-08T15:09:00
Discussion from yesterday is still happening. Some of it isn't comfortable, which is to be expected. I'm not being as gentle as usual with people who want me to explain Judaism 101 (Yiddish is a Germanic language, Jewish is not a language, Yes, Virginia, there are Jews in Australia) But I think that my post-after-next for the History Girls may well be the Esther Abrahams one. I found the book on her that
murasaki_1966
gave me, so I don't have to rack my memory for things I ought to know. My next history Girls post is by popular request and is about the Middle Ages. But first, I have to do an intro to my article for Aurealis (Aurealis the magazine, not Aurealis the award). I'll let you know when it comes out, I think, for it's about Cordwainer Smith and I'm not certain it's possible to have too much Cordwainer Smith.
What else am I doing with a virus-filled day? Having strange dreams, of course, for I have a virus. It's moving quickly and I feel a lot better now that I felt this morning. I'm sleeping it off.
I've done some paperwork, of course, for a day without paperwork is a day without hours. And I haven't lost my cool again. Once a week is enough, really.
I just got tired of being diminished by people who then congratulated themselves for being supportive. And I was doomed to a virus, and didn't know it. The last straw was seeing the look of self-congratulation on the third person's face. It wasn't about supporting me, it was about feeling good. At that point I decided that my friends can find other ways to feel good, and that putting me down (albeit through innocent error) was going to be struck off the list.
Another of the things that have struck me this week is that I've been a Medievalist too long. I'm a very surprised by the number of people who want the number of the Beast (aka its ISBN, so they can order it). This book has more advance orders, I think, than my most recent novel has sales. Maybe than any of my novels have had sales. It depends on how one counts the numbers, and I won't have precise numbers for ages. Still, the Beast has been in various top 100 categories on Amazon.uk several times and we're still weeks away from publication (though the volume has been sent to print!).
No wonder publishers keep wanting NF set in the Middle Ages!
Fiction is so much easier emotionally. If people don't like my fiction, they don't like it: no worries. If people don't like the Beast because they contest this or that element, then there is engagement. I feel this with all NF, but with something this big and with this much emotional baggage, I feel it in spades. This means my surprise that it is getting off the ground even before it's published is tempered by the fact that people will be arguing with me about it for every convention to come. Continuum in June is the end of my Beast-Free life.
Also, so many novelists are reassuring me of their eternal friendship right now. Please, continue doing so, for it amuses me.
It appears that an extraordinary number of novels using the Middle Ages are in the works. It appears that a half dozen (which is my calculation of 'so many' given it's in a twenty-four hour period) writing friends have forgotten that I've always been this person and that my door is always open for short questions and that I even have question time on this blog. It's cupboard love, but it's from people who were friends before the realisation of the Beast hit them, so it's kinda sweet.
Years ago I did some work into how writers approached specialists and I realised that there were issues. So many writers don't know what to ask or how to ask or even what specialists actually did. I'm different, because I'm both. When I ask someone "What's your PhD on?" I don't do it out of courtesy, I do it out of interest. When I talk about fiction over diner, it often includes my own. Years ago I wrote a brief article, on request, for a US writing group on how to ask the right kind of question. All this has been built into my experience and life, so I'd forgotten that I have a whole new bunch of writing friends, who don't know that this is part of me. All they know is that I am approachable and that I have a useful book coming out. That's why I'm amused. It's all come full circle.
The timing is not good, however. If I don't get that academic job within a few months, this will be one of the parts of my life that has to go. My life has always been darkly ironic, and I would like it to turn into sunshine and lollipops and rainbows, please. Irony is amusing, but I can't eat it.
murasaki_1966
gave me, so I don't have to rack my memory for things I ought to know. My next history Girls post is by popular request and is about the Middle Ages. But first, I have to do an intro to my article for Aurealis (Aurealis the magazine, not Aurealis the award). I'll let you know when it comes out, I think, for it's about Cordwainer Smith and I'm not certain it's possible to have too much Cordwainer Smith.What else am I doing with a virus-filled day? Having strange dreams, of course, for I have a virus. It's moving quickly and I feel a lot better now that I felt this morning. I'm sleeping it off.
I've done some paperwork, of course, for a day without paperwork is a day without hours. And I haven't lost my cool again. Once a week is enough, really.
I just got tired of being diminished by people who then congratulated themselves for being supportive. And I was doomed to a virus, and didn't know it. The last straw was seeing the look of self-congratulation on the third person's face. It wasn't about supporting me, it was about feeling good. At that point I decided that my friends can find other ways to feel good, and that putting me down (albeit through innocent error) was going to be struck off the list.
Another of the things that have struck me this week is that I've been a Medievalist too long. I'm a very surprised by the number of people who want the number of the Beast (aka its ISBN, so they can order it). This book has more advance orders, I think, than my most recent novel has sales. Maybe than any of my novels have had sales. It depends on how one counts the numbers, and I won't have precise numbers for ages. Still, the Beast has been in various top 100 categories on Amazon.uk several times and we're still weeks away from publication (though the volume has been sent to print!).
No wonder publishers keep wanting NF set in the Middle Ages!
Fiction is so much easier emotionally. If people don't like my fiction, they don't like it: no worries. If people don't like the Beast because they contest this or that element, then there is engagement. I feel this with all NF, but with something this big and with this much emotional baggage, I feel it in spades. This means my surprise that it is getting off the ground even before it's published is tempered by the fact that people will be arguing with me about it for every convention to come. Continuum in June is the end of my Beast-Free life.
Also, so many novelists are reassuring me of their eternal friendship right now. Please, continue doing so, for it amuses me.
It appears that an extraordinary number of novels using the Middle Ages are in the works. It appears that a half dozen (which is my calculation of 'so many' given it's in a twenty-four hour period) writing friends have forgotten that I've always been this person and that my door is always open for short questions and that I even have question time on this blog. It's cupboard love, but it's from people who were friends before the realisation of the Beast hit them, so it's kinda sweet.
Years ago I did some work into how writers approached specialists and I realised that there were issues. So many writers don't know what to ask or how to ask or even what specialists actually did. I'm different, because I'm both. When I ask someone "What's your PhD on?" I don't do it out of courtesy, I do it out of interest. When I talk about fiction over diner, it often includes my own. Years ago I wrote a brief article, on request, for a US writing group on how to ask the right kind of question. All this has been built into my experience and life, so I'd forgotten that I have a whole new bunch of writing friends, who don't know that this is part of me. All they know is that I am approachable and that I have a useful book coming out. That's why I'm amused. It's all come full circle.
The timing is not good, however. If I don't get that academic job within a few months, this will be one of the parts of my life that has to go. My life has always been darkly ironic, and I would like it to turn into sunshine and lollipops and rainbows, please. Irony is amusing, but I can't eat it.
May 6, 2015
Where Gillian is very untactful
How do I explain to the several non-Jews who are being very supportive of my Jewishness by using much Yiddish in my presence that there are cultural differences between Jews? That Yiddishkeit is more important in Australia than my particular cultural background, and that I've had to learn some Yiddish because of this, but that it's kinda telling me "Look, your culture isn't that important to me" when you use that Yiddish for anything other than the normal way you, personally, would use Yiddish words? There's no tactful way of doing it. This means that today I'm going to be rude and untactful.
It's like the conversation I had on this very blog, some time ago, when we were talking about someone who said (as so many people do) that I'm not a native speaker of English because I speak 'Jewish." I mostly try to get them to realise that there are many Jewish languages, but now I realise that the problem is more fundamental.
For everyone who hasn't realised it (which is very few of you, but obviously I'm feeling it today), my native language is English. My second language is French. My languages-for-praying are Hebrew and Aramaic, but I do not speak them. My language-of-learning (the one that marks me as educated) is Latin. My Jewish culture (except for the cake culture and a few other remnants) is from England and chips are one of my favourite foods. The language of my Judaism is... English. Except when I pray. I do not pray in Yiddish, ever. I only discovered Yiddish women's prayers as an adult doing research into the history of books, specifically, Arthurian books, and I discovered popular Yiddish literature by chance.
If someone wants to show me how erudite they are in facets of my culture, those are the languages to fling at me and the circumstances in which they'll work. If the same someone wants to show me that I'm an inferior Jew from a minority that's dying out (the latter is true, but my branch of Judaism is neither superior nor inferior, it's just... English) then keep flinging Yiddish at me.
I learned a bit of spoken Yiddish as an adult (self-taught). I learned more because my nephews were schooled in Yiddish (and when they were being cheeky I had to know how to respond) and I'd studied German at high school. Because I pick up languages fairly easily I can follow some conversations in Yiddish and even say a few words. I can do the same in a number of languages, but I don't get them used at me as if using the words will create a special bond. Just Yiddish.
Yiddish is not a language of my childhood. Neither of my parents spoke it (and Mum still doesn't - if Dad does, I'd be surprised but I'm willing to tell you where his grave is, if you want to find out for certain) and my culturally-dominant grandparent didn't speak it. Nor did her mother, nor any of the ancestors beyond that, as far as I know.
I have Yiddish-speaking ancestors. They didn't pass that heritage down, because of the nature of Australian Jewish culture in the early 20th century, and because my family never seems to have been part of the Kadimah crowd. There is therefore cultural baggage in the fact that I'm not Yiddish-speaking, and I was made to feel that as a child.
When someone uses Yiddish at me, it doesn't bond me with that person. To use common parlance, it's not the act of an ally, but of someone who doesn't quite get what it means to be an ally. It reminds me that I didn't quite belong in most Jewish circles when I was younger, in fact, for their families had suffered the Shoah and mine escaped so early that when it married into an Anglo family, it anglicized. When someone uses miscellaneous words of Yiddish to impress me with their warmth and willingness to meet my culture halfway, it reminds me of my childhood advantages in school (look! I speak the language! look, I can read at the same level as any other kid with my intelligence and eyesight!) and my childhood disadvantages at bar-mitzvahs ("You're nice, but not one of us.").
I am a culturally-literate Jew: I know Yiddish. I also read Ladino, however, and no-one flings Ladino at me. Actually, once, someone did ( a Spanish-speaker) and I so impressed her by understanding that she gave me a Sefardi cookbook (which I love and use). My experiences with Ladino therefore, are limited but very positive.
My experiences with Yiddish are of long-duration and rather complex and not always positive. And no-one has *ever* given me a cookbook in Yiddish. Some people are more impressed that I speak English than that I can understand a little Yiddish. Learning one's native language is, after all, a lot harder than picking up a foreign one.
There is a stereotype that all Jews understand Yiddish. We don't. It's a modern language (my era-of-expertise as a historian actually predates it) and the Jews who know it come from a particular background. They are most of modern Jewry, due to an evil history of persecution and etc, and, due to the same evil history of persecution and etc they're working very hard to maintain their cultures*. This is all wonderful, and one of the reasons I keep my mind open to learn about them. It and my nephews are the two reasons I have any Yiddish at all. I don't have much, though. Hardly any.
I have many friends who come from Yiddish backgrounds. I, however, do not. And my background has been safe on the "death to all Jews" front but diminishing because it's not the culturally dominant one in Australia. Before World War II when Jews married in Australia they were pressured to create children of my background. Since World War II the pressure has gone the other way.
This means that when non-Jews use Yiddish at me, they're reminding me that I'm culturally invisible.
Usually, what they're trying to do is remind me that my Jewishness is important to them. Only it's not my Jewishness that's important, it's a universal Jewishness, and that's one of those stereotypes that get us all into trouble.
It's an odd piece of baggage to carry by a compassionate person who takes the trouble to learn a word or twenty of a language and makes the effort to use it. This is why I'm writing this post, despite it being wildly offensive. It's not the action of an ally to make someone feel defensive about themselves and their background, but sometimes, when people don't realise the baggage they carry, they say things that niggle. Then they demand cookies for using the language, for they've reached out and supported me. Three times this fortnight this has happened and three times this fortnight I've had to remind myself that just because someone assumes I come from a culture, that doesn't change the very strong and very interesting culture I actually come from. I don't give the cookies. In fact, I become annoyed that they've been demanded.
My dominant culture is a mere footnote in the footnotes of Jewish history, but it's mine own and I want to hang on to it, please. I want the scones and the jam and the cream and the committees and the silver tea-set and I want my native language.
This post was brought to you in Jewish, my native language. It has not been translated. All Yiddish terms are entirely the way I would use them in my native language. Mensch, for instance, I use the Yiddish for, because this whole post has been about being a mensch.
* even Yiddish-speakers don't have a monolithic culture
It's like the conversation I had on this very blog, some time ago, when we were talking about someone who said (as so many people do) that I'm not a native speaker of English because I speak 'Jewish." I mostly try to get them to realise that there are many Jewish languages, but now I realise that the problem is more fundamental.
For everyone who hasn't realised it (which is very few of you, but obviously I'm feeling it today), my native language is English. My second language is French. My languages-for-praying are Hebrew and Aramaic, but I do not speak them. My language-of-learning (the one that marks me as educated) is Latin. My Jewish culture (except for the cake culture and a few other remnants) is from England and chips are one of my favourite foods. The language of my Judaism is... English. Except when I pray. I do not pray in Yiddish, ever. I only discovered Yiddish women's prayers as an adult doing research into the history of books, specifically, Arthurian books, and I discovered popular Yiddish literature by chance.
If someone wants to show me how erudite they are in facets of my culture, those are the languages to fling at me and the circumstances in which they'll work. If the same someone wants to show me that I'm an inferior Jew from a minority that's dying out (the latter is true, but my branch of Judaism is neither superior nor inferior, it's just... English) then keep flinging Yiddish at me.
I learned a bit of spoken Yiddish as an adult (self-taught). I learned more because my nephews were schooled in Yiddish (and when they were being cheeky I had to know how to respond) and I'd studied German at high school. Because I pick up languages fairly easily I can follow some conversations in Yiddish and even say a few words. I can do the same in a number of languages, but I don't get them used at me as if using the words will create a special bond. Just Yiddish.
Yiddish is not a language of my childhood. Neither of my parents spoke it (and Mum still doesn't - if Dad does, I'd be surprised but I'm willing to tell you where his grave is, if you want to find out for certain) and my culturally-dominant grandparent didn't speak it. Nor did her mother, nor any of the ancestors beyond that, as far as I know.
I have Yiddish-speaking ancestors. They didn't pass that heritage down, because of the nature of Australian Jewish culture in the early 20th century, and because my family never seems to have been part of the Kadimah crowd. There is therefore cultural baggage in the fact that I'm not Yiddish-speaking, and I was made to feel that as a child.
When someone uses Yiddish at me, it doesn't bond me with that person. To use common parlance, it's not the act of an ally, but of someone who doesn't quite get what it means to be an ally. It reminds me that I didn't quite belong in most Jewish circles when I was younger, in fact, for their families had suffered the Shoah and mine escaped so early that when it married into an Anglo family, it anglicized. When someone uses miscellaneous words of Yiddish to impress me with their warmth and willingness to meet my culture halfway, it reminds me of my childhood advantages in school (look! I speak the language! look, I can read at the same level as any other kid with my intelligence and eyesight!) and my childhood disadvantages at bar-mitzvahs ("You're nice, but not one of us.").
I am a culturally-literate Jew: I know Yiddish. I also read Ladino, however, and no-one flings Ladino at me. Actually, once, someone did ( a Spanish-speaker) and I so impressed her by understanding that she gave me a Sefardi cookbook (which I love and use). My experiences with Ladino therefore, are limited but very positive.
My experiences with Yiddish are of long-duration and rather complex and not always positive. And no-one has *ever* given me a cookbook in Yiddish. Some people are more impressed that I speak English than that I can understand a little Yiddish. Learning one's native language is, after all, a lot harder than picking up a foreign one.
There is a stereotype that all Jews understand Yiddish. We don't. It's a modern language (my era-of-expertise as a historian actually predates it) and the Jews who know it come from a particular background. They are most of modern Jewry, due to an evil history of persecution and etc, and, due to the same evil history of persecution and etc they're working very hard to maintain their cultures*. This is all wonderful, and one of the reasons I keep my mind open to learn about them. It and my nephews are the two reasons I have any Yiddish at all. I don't have much, though. Hardly any.
I have many friends who come from Yiddish backgrounds. I, however, do not. And my background has been safe on the "death to all Jews" front but diminishing because it's not the culturally dominant one in Australia. Before World War II when Jews married in Australia they were pressured to create children of my background. Since World War II the pressure has gone the other way.
This means that when non-Jews use Yiddish at me, they're reminding me that I'm culturally invisible.
Usually, what they're trying to do is remind me that my Jewishness is important to them. Only it's not my Jewishness that's important, it's a universal Jewishness, and that's one of those stereotypes that get us all into trouble.
It's an odd piece of baggage to carry by a compassionate person who takes the trouble to learn a word or twenty of a language and makes the effort to use it. This is why I'm writing this post, despite it being wildly offensive. It's not the action of an ally to make someone feel defensive about themselves and their background, but sometimes, when people don't realise the baggage they carry, they say things that niggle. Then they demand cookies for using the language, for they've reached out and supported me. Three times this fortnight this has happened and three times this fortnight I've had to remind myself that just because someone assumes I come from a culture, that doesn't change the very strong and very interesting culture I actually come from. I don't give the cookies. In fact, I become annoyed that they've been demanded.
My dominant culture is a mere footnote in the footnotes of Jewish history, but it's mine own and I want to hang on to it, please. I want the scones and the jam and the cream and the committees and the silver tea-set and I want my native language.
This post was brought to you in Jewish, my native language. It has not been translated. All Yiddish terms are entirely the way I would use them in my native language. Mensch, for instance, I use the Yiddish for, because this whole post has been about being a mensch.
* even Yiddish-speakers don't have a monolithic culture
gillpolack @ 2015-05-06T19:13:00
I'm hoping to get loads more recipes, but the ones I have been given for the cookbook already are terrific. Filkers are better represented than writers, just out of interest.
Last night in class I had my students envisage three very different views of the Middle Ages and to mind map them. Next week they get the fourth, alongside translation techniques for writing thereof.
And this morning I took a backpack full of paper and other goodies into class and my students said "We don't want tea-break - we're too busy." This was the revision of cover-design principles from last week, and how to translate mockups into the real book. Next week we finish with chapbooks and start moving to life writing. I have to admit, though, that bringing A3 paper in and having students move from A4 to A6 made it much easier for them to understand whitespace and margins. When we were working on the very tiny books (A7?) they were trying to fit their story into the page and hadn't worked out that the two could interact. They're not there yet, but we made vast amounts of progress this week, both for the artists and the non-artists.
Everyone's favourite element was the stickers. Do not ask. Please.
This afternoon Harry Hartog and I started talking about an event for the Beast. Watch this space, Canberrans and people who can get to Canberra, for it looks as if I'll be making medieval snacks for it, and the bookshop may be tempted (they're thinking about it, but with enthusiasm) into providing Hypocras. And this is my way of telling you that the Beast is at the printer. It will be released in the UK in mid-June, and here when the slow boat arrives with copies.
And now I have a crit group session. Maybe next week will slow down.
Last night in class I had my students envisage three very different views of the Middle Ages and to mind map them. Next week they get the fourth, alongside translation techniques for writing thereof.
And this morning I took a backpack full of paper and other goodies into class and my students said "We don't want tea-break - we're too busy." This was the revision of cover-design principles from last week, and how to translate mockups into the real book. Next week we finish with chapbooks and start moving to life writing. I have to admit, though, that bringing A3 paper in and having students move from A4 to A6 made it much easier for them to understand whitespace and margins. When we were working on the very tiny books (A7?) they were trying to fit their story into the page and hadn't worked out that the two could interact. They're not there yet, but we made vast amounts of progress this week, both for the artists and the non-artists.
Everyone's favourite element was the stickers. Do not ask. Please.
This afternoon Harry Hartog and I started talking about an event for the Beast. Watch this space, Canberrans and people who can get to Canberra, for it looks as if I'll be making medieval snacks for it, and the bookshop may be tempted (they're thinking about it, but with enthusiasm) into providing Hypocras. And this is my way of telling you that the Beast is at the printer. It will be released in the UK in mid-June, and here when the slow boat arrives with copies.
And now I have a crit group session. Maybe next week will slow down.
May 4, 2015
Call for recipes!
Foodie fandom: The all new e-cookbook
I collect good recipes from friends. I’ve discovered over the years that even fans who claim to be non-cooks often have one recipe, one mouth-wateringly wonderful dish that they make when asked to bring a plate. And fandom needs another cookbook. And I need to raise money for GUFF.
Send me your recipes! Ask your friends to send me their recipes! As many recipes as you like! Spread the word across world fandom!
Since this is an international endeavour, there will be many oven temperatures and spoon sizes. Tell me what country you're from (and tell me a bit about yourself if you want other fans to know) so that I can make sure that your oven temperatures are translated properly in the tables of measurements. Your recipe will be in the book as you have given it to me using this oven-of-origin system, and fans from the other side of the world will be able to make it using my magnificent translation tables.
Normally, when I put a cookbook together, I translate everything into a standard recipe format. I’ll only change or adapt recipes when the recipe provider asks me to or when there is a significant problem. Having said that, I'm happy to have "I think this is how we make it, but all I've got is a page of notes: can you make sense of it for me?" recipes.
One thing I love about SF fandom is its variety and its fascinating people, so I want to hear from as many of you as possible. I’ll correct typos and adjust ambiguities and make the internal formatting within the recipe consistent, but in most cases, that’ll be all I'll do.
Speaking of fascinating fandom, this cookbook is not just for one branch of fandom. You may be a gamer, a literary fan, a furry fan, a cosplayer, a fanfic writer, an artist or belong to any of the thousand other parts of fandom that make our lives so wonderful. This is where we all come together and enjoy food. (And while I'm thinking of art, if anyone has art they'd like to see in the book, talk to me. Also, if someone has a burning desire to typeset the book, I'd love to hear from you.)
This ebook is not just for English-language fandom (although the book will be in English). If you know people who might be interested but have no English or not quite enough English, do not despair! I read several languages and have friends who read several more. By hook or by crook we'll get your recipes translated. (My friends won't know I'm asking them until I'm faced with a language I don't have, though, so don't scare them off.)
I prefer recipes in the format:
Title of recipe (giver of recipe, country)
Ingredients
Method
Having said that, if putting something in a correct format is going to stop you sending me the recipe, then just send me the recipe. Send me any number of recipes. Spread the word to fannish cooks all over the globe. I want this to be the biggest cookbook fandom has ever seen!
How do you get me your recipes? Simply fill in the web form here and make sure that the first words say "Fan cookbook." If your recipe isn't in English, then please tell me what language it's in, just to make it easier.
Send me your recipes by 15 July 2015.
Addendum: Several people have asked me about the contact form. The contact form strips some formatting but the paragraph returns survive at my end (even though it looks as if they don't, at the sender's). Don't panic! Just send me your recipes...
I collect good recipes from friends. I’ve discovered over the years that even fans who claim to be non-cooks often have one recipe, one mouth-wateringly wonderful dish that they make when asked to bring a plate. And fandom needs another cookbook. And I need to raise money for GUFF.
Send me your recipes! Ask your friends to send me their recipes! As many recipes as you like! Spread the word across world fandom!
Since this is an international endeavour, there will be many oven temperatures and spoon sizes. Tell me what country you're from (and tell me a bit about yourself if you want other fans to know) so that I can make sure that your oven temperatures are translated properly in the tables of measurements. Your recipe will be in the book as you have given it to me using this oven-of-origin system, and fans from the other side of the world will be able to make it using my magnificent translation tables.
Normally, when I put a cookbook together, I translate everything into a standard recipe format. I’ll only change or adapt recipes when the recipe provider asks me to or when there is a significant problem. Having said that, I'm happy to have "I think this is how we make it, but all I've got is a page of notes: can you make sense of it for me?" recipes.
One thing I love about SF fandom is its variety and its fascinating people, so I want to hear from as many of you as possible. I’ll correct typos and adjust ambiguities and make the internal formatting within the recipe consistent, but in most cases, that’ll be all I'll do.
Speaking of fascinating fandom, this cookbook is not just for one branch of fandom. You may be a gamer, a literary fan, a furry fan, a cosplayer, a fanfic writer, an artist or belong to any of the thousand other parts of fandom that make our lives so wonderful. This is where we all come together and enjoy food. (And while I'm thinking of art, if anyone has art they'd like to see in the book, talk to me. Also, if someone has a burning desire to typeset the book, I'd love to hear from you.)
This ebook is not just for English-language fandom (although the book will be in English). If you know people who might be interested but have no English or not quite enough English, do not despair! I read several languages and have friends who read several more. By hook or by crook we'll get your recipes translated. (My friends won't know I'm asking them until I'm faced with a language I don't have, though, so don't scare them off.)
I prefer recipes in the format:
Title of recipe (giver of recipe, country)
Ingredients
Method
Having said that, if putting something in a correct format is going to stop you sending me the recipe, then just send me the recipe. Send me any number of recipes. Spread the word to fannish cooks all over the globe. I want this to be the biggest cookbook fandom has ever seen!
How do you get me your recipes? Simply fill in the web form here and make sure that the first words say "Fan cookbook." If your recipe isn't in English, then please tell me what language it's in, just to make it easier.
Send me your recipes by 15 July 2015.
Addendum: Several people have asked me about the contact form. The contact form strips some formatting but the paragraph returns survive at my end (even though it looks as if they don't, at the sender's). Don't panic! Just send me your recipes...
gillpolack @ 2015-05-04T23:13:00
I did vast numbers of things after I posted yesterday. The weather was misbehaving and sleep was out, so I worked.
Today was less successful, though quite a bit more fun. I've done some housework and I shopped and had lunch with a friend and cuddled his baby, all of which was good. The GUFF report is now with James (for he's doing the formatting) and all my preparation is done for Wednesday's class for the next 2 weeks (plus I have work stationery for that class, for which I'll be reimbursed).
I've used up many stray ingredients and there is much chocolate in my place, some of which is for Wednesday night (when I host crit group) and some of which is for stray passers-by (if there be any) over the next fortnight. By this I know that I'm a lot better than I have been, for I am assuming that after Wednesday afternoon my place will be less unrepresentable and that I won't be inundated with deadlines. Still, I only had fourteen things to do today, and I've done precisely seven of them.
In theory I should work furiously until one am. In practice, I want to return a book to the library on Wednesday, so I'm going to read for a bit and then go to bed. Except... maybe I can do one or two more things first. Jut so's the list I wake up to isn't so worrying. Just so's I can answer the new emails and do the rest of my teaching prep without looking over my shoulder. I think I've talked myself into crossing three more things off my list before bed. If I don't, I'll never get back to research and writing and you'll never get any interesting posts again. Ever.
For those who want to know (and are tempted to taste it) the non-crit group chocolate is pebbles. I made truffles in the shape of pebbles (intentionally) using dark Belgian chocolate, dessicated coconut, home made cherry liqueur and drunken cherries, and the richest cream I could find. They're eat-one-and-feel-full-for-hours chocolates, but very nice, and if no-one drops in for a few weeks then I shall eat one a day until they're gone. The crit group is getting coconut roughs made with Belgian chocolate, because I needed to finish the coconut. And it's really lovely to have a little bit of energy to make chocolates. It's been too long.
Today was less successful, though quite a bit more fun. I've done some housework and I shopped and had lunch with a friend and cuddled his baby, all of which was good. The GUFF report is now with James (for he's doing the formatting) and all my preparation is done for Wednesday's class for the next 2 weeks (plus I have work stationery for that class, for which I'll be reimbursed).
I've used up many stray ingredients and there is much chocolate in my place, some of which is for Wednesday night (when I host crit group) and some of which is for stray passers-by (if there be any) over the next fortnight. By this I know that I'm a lot better than I have been, for I am assuming that after Wednesday afternoon my place will be less unrepresentable and that I won't be inundated with deadlines. Still, I only had fourteen things to do today, and I've done precisely seven of them.
In theory I should work furiously until one am. In practice, I want to return a book to the library on Wednesday, so I'm going to read for a bit and then go to bed. Except... maybe I can do one or two more things first. Jut so's the list I wake up to isn't so worrying. Just so's I can answer the new emails and do the rest of my teaching prep without looking over my shoulder. I think I've talked myself into crossing three more things off my list before bed. If I don't, I'll never get back to research and writing and you'll never get any interesting posts again. Ever.
For those who want to know (and are tempted to taste it) the non-crit group chocolate is pebbles. I made truffles in the shape of pebbles (intentionally) using dark Belgian chocolate, dessicated coconut, home made cherry liqueur and drunken cherries, and the richest cream I could find. They're eat-one-and-feel-full-for-hours chocolates, but very nice, and if no-one drops in for a few weeks then I shall eat one a day until they're gone. The crit group is getting coconut roughs made with Belgian chocolate, because I needed to finish the coconut. And it's really lovely to have a little bit of energy to make chocolates. It's been too long.
May 2, 2015
gillpolack @ 2015-05-02T22:52:00
I had great aims for today, but they didn't happen. Except for my History Girls blogpost, which did happen. It's here: http://the-history-girls.blogspot.com.au/2015/05/on-history-and-medieval-cosmetics.html
I also got my email down by about 50 items and I've done the prep for one of my classes. All the important emails are to do, however, and the rest of my classes, for life intervened. Tonight I'll have an early night and see if a marathon tomorrow can get me through all my admin for next week.
I also got my email down by about 50 items and I've done the prep for one of my classes. All the important emails are to do, however, and the rest of my classes, for life intervened. Tonight I'll have an early night and see if a marathon tomorrow can get me through all my admin for next week.
April 30, 2015
gillpolack @ 2015-05-01T15:51:00
I've wondered for a while what would happen if everything happened. This has been coming a while. Last year, I had all the writing and editing, but piles of teaching was cancelled because Canberra was caught up in worries about government. The year before, I had teaching, but writing and editing were cancelled because publishers and editors did what publishers and editors do. I've had short work due on last week of term, but not (usually) on first week.
So... this week. Two new classes. An excursion for my Wednesday class (so extra hours, and many things going wrong, but not even close to the most things going wrong in an excursion or the worst things going wrong - this was not the week for breaking records - and the week was still only 14 hours teaching and prep and etc, all up). A rather nice migraine. More smoke, and the new (since last year) bus timetable so that I ended up having to breathe it and walk through it for swags of time (the bus timetable was so unpopular that they're changing again on 18 May) and I didn't get a day without smoke until today. Four short-piece deadlines, one short story deadline, the last of the Beast. I forget the rest. It would all have been straightforward (just busy) without the smoke, but with the smoke it was challenging. Today I hurt so much I wondered how long I could put off getting up out of bed. It's mostly residual ache from the week, and it will pass with much water and coffee and gentle exercise and sleep, sleep, sleep.
I have to mop up much today. I have invoices to send out for work complete, and have 2 more short pieces to write and one to web. The only thing I've done so far, though, is my finances. My finances are (not surprisingly) better than they've been for three years. I am not rich (no glamorous trips to exciting places) but I will be able to eat with friends when I get to Continuum and I will be able to use my heater this winter. In fact, once I'm paid for all this work (not yet) I will be fine for all the basics and some occasional luxuries right through until spring. I'll earn that money over the next few weeks.
My next nine weeks are going to be challenging, for it's more of everything on top of everything (but hopefully less smoke, for I spent a large chunk of yesterday sorting out how to have smaller swags of smoke to breathe) and I have a book to finish, to boot, but knowing there will be money in the bank makes it all worthwhile.
The problem with semi-freelance and low teaching pay rates is that I have to do a lot more work to achieve the same income. Still, when I achieve it, I may bask in the warmth of that heater. And today, I can work in my PJs and have a hot bath in a little, for it's a non-teaching day and I will catch up on *all* that back admin and life will be a joy and a delight. In the meantime, water and vitamin C are my best friends.
So... this week. Two new classes. An excursion for my Wednesday class (so extra hours, and many things going wrong, but not even close to the most things going wrong in an excursion or the worst things going wrong - this was not the week for breaking records - and the week was still only 14 hours teaching and prep and etc, all up). A rather nice migraine. More smoke, and the new (since last year) bus timetable so that I ended up having to breathe it and walk through it for swags of time (the bus timetable was so unpopular that they're changing again on 18 May) and I didn't get a day without smoke until today. Four short-piece deadlines, one short story deadline, the last of the Beast. I forget the rest. It would all have been straightforward (just busy) without the smoke, but with the smoke it was challenging. Today I hurt so much I wondered how long I could put off getting up out of bed. It's mostly residual ache from the week, and it will pass with much water and coffee and gentle exercise and sleep, sleep, sleep.
I have to mop up much today. I have invoices to send out for work complete, and have 2 more short pieces to write and one to web. The only thing I've done so far, though, is my finances. My finances are (not surprisingly) better than they've been for three years. I am not rich (no glamorous trips to exciting places) but I will be able to eat with friends when I get to Continuum and I will be able to use my heater this winter. In fact, once I'm paid for all this work (not yet) I will be fine for all the basics and some occasional luxuries right through until spring. I'll earn that money over the next few weeks.
My next nine weeks are going to be challenging, for it's more of everything on top of everything (but hopefully less smoke, for I spent a large chunk of yesterday sorting out how to have smaller swags of smoke to breathe) and I have a book to finish, to boot, but knowing there will be money in the bank makes it all worthwhile.
The problem with semi-freelance and low teaching pay rates is that I have to do a lot more work to achieve the same income. Still, when I achieve it, I may bask in the warmth of that heater. And today, I can work in my PJs and have a hot bath in a little, for it's a non-teaching day and I will catch up on *all* that back admin and life will be a joy and a delight. In the meantime, water and vitamin C are my best friends.
April 29, 2015
gillpolack @ 2015-04-30T12:43:00
Watch me race against deadlines today! I was OK until the last Beast proofs happened unexpectedly and then all my teaching got approved (which is great - I get to teach! also to breathe much smoke) and then.. loads of stuff. So I have four hours to reach my next deadline, and then I teach, and then I come home and wonder (at 9.30 pm for buses have pluses, but the speedy achieving of my journey home is not one of them when I have to walk through smoke-laden air) which of the various things I haven't yet done today I can finish before midnight.
I'm very, very happy about the teaching, but I'm almost equally happy that maybe tomorrow I can sleep in a bit. Tomorrow will all be about encounters in my in-box and discovering things I should have done days ago.
This year is very busy. I am saying it aloud so that I can't avoid admitting it!
I'm very, very happy about the teaching, but I'm almost equally happy that maybe tomorrow I can sleep in a bit. Tomorrow will all be about encounters in my in-box and discovering things I should have done days ago.
This year is very busy. I am saying it aloud so that I can't avoid admitting it!
gillpolack @ 2015-04-29T19:29:00
Today was a class excursion. An artist at the National Gallery sat us down in the pop art area and gave us the basics of book cover design using iPods. While we were waiting for the iPods, I explained Warhol. I pointed to the Elvis picture and used it to illustrate, but didn't realise that many tins of soup were right behind me. I'm pretty convinced that my students mostly don't get pop art. I'll have to work on culture and zeitgeist and how we think about what we do.
My big learning was that I'm going to have to re-teach everything using paper and a whiteboard. A couple of my students understood basic design principles and the rest were a bit overwhelmed. The artist (whose name is John) gave me some handy pointers for this (coloured paper! scissors!) so next week's class is already designed. I'll have to do a bit of shopping, is all. My students will have covers for their chapbooks, and they will design them, and they will be able to look at book covers and understand what messages they're giving. It may, however, take a bit longer to achieve this than we thought. The upside is that John really knows his stuff, and I have a clear path for teaching (and some hotshot new techniques).
There aren't many fires around now and they're all under control, but they're giving us an amazing amount of smoke. I was out last night for teaching and out today and am somewhat vulnerable as a result. This is my excuse for eating half a pomegranate just now.
And everything else about my day is me whingeing, so I shan't report on it!
My big learning was that I'm going to have to re-teach everything using paper and a whiteboard. A couple of my students understood basic design principles and the rest were a bit overwhelmed. The artist (whose name is John) gave me some handy pointers for this (coloured paper! scissors!) so next week's class is already designed. I'll have to do a bit of shopping, is all. My students will have covers for their chapbooks, and they will design them, and they will be able to look at book covers and understand what messages they're giving. It may, however, take a bit longer to achieve this than we thought. The upside is that John really knows his stuff, and I have a clear path for teaching (and some hotshot new techniques).
There aren't many fires around now and they're all under control, but they're giving us an amazing amount of smoke. I was out last night for teaching and out today and am somewhat vulnerable as a result. This is my excuse for eating half a pomegranate just now.
And everything else about my day is me whingeing, so I shan't report on it!
April 27, 2015
gillpolack @ 2015-04-27T21:40:00
Today is half back to normal. I ought to do a thousand things (workishly) but am slow in starting. I've knocked down a few skittles, which is something. Tomorrow and Wednesday are going to be vast and huge days, and I think I'm hanging off in anticipation.
Also, last night was the first below zero night of the year. This is purely for the increase in your knowledge about my local weather, for local friends experienced it and everyone else is really relieved they live elsewhere. I keep telling myself that I'm going to Sydney during the evil month. Just for a teaching weekend. But Sydney, in July.
And that reminds me I have a course outline to approve for elsewhere-than-Sydney and it has to eb done tonight. Tomorrow my Game of Thrones course begins and I teach my Wednesday class again this Wednesday, but I still don't know if I'm teaching on Thursday. Life is exciting again, for second half semester is upon me. Since my writing deadline is Wednesday night, my suspicion is strong that Thursday will be a work-from-home-in-jammies day, when I achieve much and am also tired muchly.
Also, last night was the first below zero night of the year. This is purely for the increase in your knowledge about my local weather, for local friends experienced it and everyone else is really relieved they live elsewhere. I keep telling myself that I'm going to Sydney during the evil month. Just for a teaching weekend. But Sydney, in July.
And that reminds me I have a course outline to approve for elsewhere-than-Sydney and it has to eb done tonight. Tomorrow my Game of Thrones course begins and I teach my Wednesday class again this Wednesday, but I still don't know if I'm teaching on Thursday. Life is exciting again, for second half semester is upon me. Since my writing deadline is Wednesday night, my suspicion is strong that Thursday will be a work-from-home-in-jammies day, when I achieve much and am also tired muchly.
