Gillian Polack's Blog, page 63
June 15, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-16T11:23:00
I keep underestimating the mount of time Loncon will take. This means I didn't do a great deal of useful things last night, but I have a dozen books to pick up from the library tomorrow. This is because I received my draft programme last night (I'll post here when the final programme is out, given my recent change in circumstance). Any reading for panels must be done before Aurealis reading begins - and I'm on a lot more panels than I expected and I'm on panels with people whose work I haven't read at all or whose work I haven't read recently, and it's a respect thing, to read sometime by them if I can, plus there's a YA panel and I always love an excuse to read more YA books.
The downside is that I have so many choices of cool things to do, that I don't know where to start. Where I actually began this morning was in setting up files for a cookbook. A fan cookbook, to raise money for GUFF. Now all I have to do is ask for recipes as I see people (and if any of you have favourite recipes you'd like to share, I'd love to receive them - the more SF bods in the cookbook, the happier I will be) and spend a moment or two formatting as I put them in. It won't write itself, but the bulk of the work will be done in dribs and drabs alongside other things, which is one of the reasons I wanted this cookbook. The main reason was I'm Gillian and I'm meeting all sorts of heroes and it would be very cool to own recipes by them. If I think this, then maybe others will, and we can raise money for someone else to go to a World Convention.
I've already been asked if I'm doing a trip report, and yes, I am. I set that up last night and did the first entry, for I'm doing a journal, and thought I'd chronicle the cool and funny stuff before as well as Loncon and Eurocon and the rest of the trip Like the cookbook, then, I'll work on it in dribs and drabs and it won't interfere with Life, but it will be substantial at the end and hopefully a lot of fun. There will be bad jokes in it. There are already bad jokes in it. And if I write it up as I go, it can be available as soon as I've persuaded someone to do final formatting and etc.
This is my day for quietly working at home, and I've got to much to trip over to get a lot done, so my first aim is to arrange to have less to trip over. This means getting rid of egregious and simple issues (like paper) and it means doing housework, and it means finishing things for tomorrow's library visit, so that I don't have any outstanding loans when I get the new batch. That will clear the decks enough so that at least some of tonight will be spent in the Middle Ages. The exciting part of the day, therefore, begins in the evening.
The downside is that I have so many choices of cool things to do, that I don't know where to start. Where I actually began this morning was in setting up files for a cookbook. A fan cookbook, to raise money for GUFF. Now all I have to do is ask for recipes as I see people (and if any of you have favourite recipes you'd like to share, I'd love to receive them - the more SF bods in the cookbook, the happier I will be) and spend a moment or two formatting as I put them in. It won't write itself, but the bulk of the work will be done in dribs and drabs alongside other things, which is one of the reasons I wanted this cookbook. The main reason was I'm Gillian and I'm meeting all sorts of heroes and it would be very cool to own recipes by them. If I think this, then maybe others will, and we can raise money for someone else to go to a World Convention.
I've already been asked if I'm doing a trip report, and yes, I am. I set that up last night and did the first entry, for I'm doing a journal, and thought I'd chronicle the cool and funny stuff before as well as Loncon and Eurocon and the rest of the trip Like the cookbook, then, I'll work on it in dribs and drabs and it won't interfere with Life, but it will be substantial at the end and hopefully a lot of fun. There will be bad jokes in it. There are already bad jokes in it. And if I write it up as I go, it can be available as soon as I've persuaded someone to do final formatting and etc.
This is my day for quietly working at home, and I've got to much to trip over to get a lot done, so my first aim is to arrange to have less to trip over. This means getting rid of egregious and simple issues (like paper) and it means doing housework, and it means finishing things for tomorrow's library visit, so that I don't have any outstanding loans when I get the new batch. That will clear the decks enough so that at least some of tonight will be spent in the Middle Ages. The exciting part of the day, therefore, begins in the evening.
June 14, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-15T15:36:00
Today is the day that everything caught up with me. I don't have concrud, but I do have a cold and am being perimenopausal again (the break in that was too good to last, and it hasn't). And all the news! And, of course, this was the Week of the Weather. So I went to the market and watched Orphan Black and some DS9, as is my usual (currently) on a weekend, and I cried off early and came home and put myself to bed. I was too tired even to get under the covers. So I did nothing this morning except market, eat fresh scones (some made with blue corn) with elderberry jam and cream*, eat chocolates, and sleep. I didn't even have the energy to make myself coffee! Tonight's dinner is going to be very healthy, to make up. And I bought new season's blood oranges at the market this morning, also to make up.
I suspect I was like this yesterday, but was so full of nervous energy that I did stuff. I sorted possible auction items for Loncon and put them in envelopes for carrying and I checked how much baggage I can carry. The baggage limits get tighter every year, which restrict my choices, but will be physically easier - I'm not even allowed a handbag *and* carry-on, only a carry-on. I have one the right size, by happenstance, or rather, because the thief stole my favourite backpack and the first replacement was hopeless for teaching, but is the right size for the modern airline. I'll be glad to get some use out of it.
I have seven weeks to get everything done, and the moment I have a bit less fatigue, I need to find my notes for my academic paper and then start writing it. I need to do a major rewrite of another paper, and I need to finish that monograph that got interrupted by life. There will be stuff to do on the novel, too. Daily life will intervene, of course, as will teaching and seeking that job, for we're still in a busy time of year. And I need to polish off the last modules for my teaching certificate, so that I'll have higher ed and adult ed to sell when I'm job-hunting. Boredom is my enemy and I am easily bored, so all is well.
Right now, though, I'm doing exciting paperwork. When I've sorted these papers and caught up with these papers and put these papers where they belong (which is seldom where they think they belong) my notes from Continuum will have magically appeared and I can do you a report. Or I can just type "chocolate, chocolate, chocolate" which would sum up quite a bit of my convention...
*The lady who sold C the elderberry jam threw in 8 scones. She remembered me from somewhere, but quite possibly gave us the scones because she was nice and we changed our brunch from something healthier to scones the moment C sampled her jam. It was very, very good jam. And we talked about blue corn. And the onion-seller and I decided we were both perfect (teenagers know everything, but middle-aged women are perfect), because middle-aged women *are*. And the pea-farmer gave me extra sugar snap peas. And the market people were all really chatty and generous and friendly. This might be because only the hard core customers were to be seen that early on a cold wet Sunday. Or it may be because they're nice people. It's probably both.
I suspect I was like this yesterday, but was so full of nervous energy that I did stuff. I sorted possible auction items for Loncon and put them in envelopes for carrying and I checked how much baggage I can carry. The baggage limits get tighter every year, which restrict my choices, but will be physically easier - I'm not even allowed a handbag *and* carry-on, only a carry-on. I have one the right size, by happenstance, or rather, because the thief stole my favourite backpack and the first replacement was hopeless for teaching, but is the right size for the modern airline. I'll be glad to get some use out of it.
I have seven weeks to get everything done, and the moment I have a bit less fatigue, I need to find my notes for my academic paper and then start writing it. I need to do a major rewrite of another paper, and I need to finish that monograph that got interrupted by life. There will be stuff to do on the novel, too. Daily life will intervene, of course, as will teaching and seeking that job, for we're still in a busy time of year. And I need to polish off the last modules for my teaching certificate, so that I'll have higher ed and adult ed to sell when I'm job-hunting. Boredom is my enemy and I am easily bored, so all is well.
Right now, though, I'm doing exciting paperwork. When I've sorted these papers and caught up with these papers and put these papers where they belong (which is seldom where they think they belong) my notes from Continuum will have magically appeared and I can do you a report. Or I can just type "chocolate, chocolate, chocolate" which would sum up quite a bit of my convention...
*The lady who sold C the elderberry jam threw in 8 scones. She remembered me from somewhere, but quite possibly gave us the scones because she was nice and we changed our brunch from something healthier to scones the moment C sampled her jam. It was very, very good jam. And we talked about blue corn. And the onion-seller and I decided we were both perfect (teenagers know everything, but middle-aged women are perfect), because middle-aged women *are*. And the pea-farmer gave me extra sugar snap peas. And the market people were all really chatty and generous and friendly. This might be because only the hard core customers were to be seen that early on a cold wet Sunday. Or it may be because they're nice people. It's probably both.
June 13, 2014
On unbecoming Schroedinger's Gillian
Satalyte (the publisher) has just made a quiet announcement. They've taken on (poor souls) my novel, Langue[dot]doc 1305, and all going well, there will be an uncorrected proof available at Loncon. This is the light I was speaking about the other day. It's a very fine light indeed.
The book is the one I swore I would never write (straight SF, using the Middle Ages) and those of you who are reviewers who would like advance copies can send me email addresses if they so desire, for e-copies (it will be out in both electronic and print form) will be available soon.
I'm being very dignified about this externally, but inside is a giant bubble of joy. It's been a very tough six months, but these two things redeem it.
For readers who want to know if it's like my other books, it is and it isn't. The focus is on the people, but the canvas is a bit bigger than the single household in Cellophane and a lot more historically proper (it's a time travel novel, not a fantasy one) than in Illuminations. The voice is there, for certain, and the bad jokes. My zombie ancestry joke makes an appearance. So does cave karaoke, because a time travel novel is simply not complete without cave karaoke. I think you should grab a copy when it appears and make up your own mind if you like it.
The book is the one I swore I would never write (straight SF, using the Middle Ages) and those of you who are reviewers who would like advance copies can send me email addresses if they so desire, for e-copies (it will be out in both electronic and print form) will be available soon.
I'm being very dignified about this externally, but inside is a giant bubble of joy. It's been a very tough six months, but these two things redeem it.
For readers who want to know if it's like my other books, it is and it isn't. The focus is on the people, but the canvas is a bit bigger than the single household in Cellophane and a lot more historically proper (it's a time travel novel, not a fantasy one) than in Illuminations. The voice is there, for certain, and the bad jokes. My zombie ancestry joke makes an appearance. So does cave karaoke, because a time travel novel is simply not complete without cave karaoke. I think you should grab a copy when it appears and make up your own mind if you like it.
GUFF
I haven't yet started on my academic stuff today because GUFF intervened. I totally wasn't expecting to win, and so I hadn't allowed any time for the processing that follows winning. But it's so very cool, and I'm so very happy. And so very surprised.
This means my Continuum report must wait.
GUFF wasn't the light I spoke about the other day. That is to say, this week is passing strange in a number of ways.
And I have much to write and it's all been delayed. It's been delayed for the very best of reasons, but even the most patient of editors ought not be kept waiting beyond a certain point.
My mind keeps forgetting work and thinking "One day, soon, I get to write a ""How to avoid Gillian at Loncon" blogpost. This is so very cool. So very, very cool.
This means my Continuum report must wait.
GUFF wasn't the light I spoke about the other day. That is to say, this week is passing strange in a number of ways.
And I have much to write and it's all been delayed. It's been delayed for the very best of reasons, but even the most patient of editors ought not be kept waiting beyond a certain point.
My mind keeps forgetting work and thinking "One day, soon, I get to write a ""How to avoid Gillian at Loncon" blogpost. This is so very cool. So very, very cool.
June 12, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-12T23:50:00
I didn't progress today, I microprogressed. Still, I microprogressed charmingly, and charm is important. And I've done the handouts and prep for tomorrow's class, so tomorrow has less admin in it, so there's less chance of inducing additional microprogression.
There's a formula in there, somewhere, about the relationship between admin work and progression. I haven't worked out the precise point where progression becomes microprogression, though. I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out.
Another notable element of today was other peoples' delays. I have stuff to do. Much stuff to do. And I'm waiting on information from three different directions before I can act. Two of the bits of information were happening earlier in the week and one was happening today and all of them are delayed. Not with any malice or even any aforethought. Just delayed. Simply delayed. Merely delayed.
If the stuff I need to know had come through yesterday or today, then a whole raft of frenzied activity would have been quite straightforward, for everything was set up for yesterday or today, which is, of course, why it wasn't going to happen that way. If it comes through by Saturday, then it will be quite difficult, but achievable in a reasonable space of time. If it all runs to next week, things will be quite fraught here for a few days. Which means it will all happen this time next week (which is about the time it all becomes nearly impossible). And no, you really, really don't want to know the details.
Aurealis judging has officially begun and publishers have officially started nominating works, but nothing has arrived on my doorstep yet. I've finished most of the Hugo reading, though. Not the retro, nor the last tweaks to the Hugo package, nor bits of Campbell, nor two of the movies but everything else - when one considers the quantity of reading this year for the Hugos, I should stop feeling guilty about the list of not-yet-dones. Or I could do it in the delay before the inevitable chaos strikes (for I do no think I will get any of the three bits of data I need before Saturday). I am, instead, contemplating the cold outside and the proximity of midnight and the fact that so many roads in my life right now return to time travel.
I've decided: what I really want to do for the rest of June is to write a comic novel. Instead, I need to finish all kinds of non-fiction. Some of July will be dedicated to non-fiction, too. Possibly all of July. By the time my NF has run out, so will my sense of humour and you will be forced to read a dour and philosophically burdened fictional treatise on the concept of wit.
There's a formula in there, somewhere, about the relationship between admin work and progression. I haven't worked out the precise point where progression becomes microprogression, though. I'm pretty sure I don't want to find out.
Another notable element of today was other peoples' delays. I have stuff to do. Much stuff to do. And I'm waiting on information from three different directions before I can act. Two of the bits of information were happening earlier in the week and one was happening today and all of them are delayed. Not with any malice or even any aforethought. Just delayed. Simply delayed. Merely delayed.
If the stuff I need to know had come through yesterday or today, then a whole raft of frenzied activity would have been quite straightforward, for everything was set up for yesterday or today, which is, of course, why it wasn't going to happen that way. If it comes through by Saturday, then it will be quite difficult, but achievable in a reasonable space of time. If it all runs to next week, things will be quite fraught here for a few days. Which means it will all happen this time next week (which is about the time it all becomes nearly impossible). And no, you really, really don't want to know the details.
Aurealis judging has officially begun and publishers have officially started nominating works, but nothing has arrived on my doorstep yet. I've finished most of the Hugo reading, though. Not the retro, nor the last tweaks to the Hugo package, nor bits of Campbell, nor two of the movies but everything else - when one considers the quantity of reading this year for the Hugos, I should stop feeling guilty about the list of not-yet-dones. Or I could do it in the delay before the inevitable chaos strikes (for I do no think I will get any of the three bits of data I need before Saturday). I am, instead, contemplating the cold outside and the proximity of midnight and the fact that so many roads in my life right now return to time travel.
I've decided: what I really want to do for the rest of June is to write a comic novel. Instead, I need to finish all kinds of non-fiction. Some of July will be dedicated to non-fiction, too. Possibly all of July. By the time my NF has run out, so will my sense of humour and you will be forced to read a dour and philosophically burdened fictional treatise on the concept of wit.
June 11, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-12T13:26:00
All the things that have to happen today haven't quite happened yet. They've been swamped by administrivia, mainly. I do have a list. I just crossed one thing off that list, which means I'm progressing.
I've not progressed as far as writing up Continuum, but I've done my teaching planning for the semester (unless it changes - because of funding changes, everything is up and down and around and there's a lot more work for everyone and many more delays). What this means is that I have two courses to deliver in July/August (as well as my Wednesday group, naturally). Yay! Now all I need is enough students. One is on Saturday afternoons at the ANU and is all about Medieval London. It's an oldie and a goodie and there is the potential for vast amounts of fun for students. The other is a one-day workshop at the ACT Writers' Center, on 3 August.
I'll post more about both of them in a week or so. Right now, I need to knuckle down and work through my list. Everything on it has deadlines and most of those deadlines are tomorrow. I think that last sentence sums up my 2014 so far.
I've not progressed as far as writing up Continuum, but I've done my teaching planning for the semester (unless it changes - because of funding changes, everything is up and down and around and there's a lot more work for everyone and many more delays). What this means is that I have two courses to deliver in July/August (as well as my Wednesday group, naturally). Yay! Now all I need is enough students. One is on Saturday afternoons at the ANU and is all about Medieval London. It's an oldie and a goodie and there is the potential for vast amounts of fun for students. The other is a one-day workshop at the ACT Writers' Center, on 3 August.
I'll post more about both of them in a week or so. Right now, I need to knuckle down and work through my list. Everything on it has deadlines and most of those deadlines are tomorrow. I think that last sentence sums up my 2014 so far.
June 9, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-10T16:13:00
I'm home! Melbourne was cool, but the people were wonderful and the food was good and the news is good and I took notes of things you needed to know, but they're buried under much chocolate and I'm too tired to unbury them I may do a report or I may not. It all depends on that chocolate...
The really good news is that there's a skerrick of light in the box. Not enough to declare what Gillian is entirely, or her state (or if she's going to get that job she wants), but enough for a partial declaration, sometime soon. Watch this space...
Mostly, right now, I have deadlines to catch up on and sleep to do. I'll do a better report later. Possibly tomorrow. I took two early nights at Continuum, but I spent them working, so I'm just a little bit bedraggled.
The really good news is that there's a skerrick of light in the box. Not enough to declare what Gillian is entirely, or her state (or if she's going to get that job she wants), but enough for a partial declaration, sometime soon. Watch this space...
Mostly, right now, I have deadlines to catch up on and sleep to do. I'll do a better report later. Possibly tomorrow. I took two early nights at Continuum, but I spent them working, so I'm just a little bit bedraggled.
June 4, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-04T19:08:00
I'm in that interzone between teaching and dinner. I'm nibbling the last of the chestnuts, and I've just finished with some administratrivia.
I'm trying to clear the decks for serious doings later tonight. I want to polish off the last bit of the last article, and the last bit of my teaching email and maybe, daringly, finish preparing my longer talk for Continuum. If I don't finish it tonight, I'll accumulate all my thoughts and then make sense of them tomorrow, in between doing much Hugo reading. All this deck-clearing is because I shall be much crowded for a few days and, straight after that, the Aurealis books should start arriving (if I'm lucky).
I keep forgetting to say that I won't be on LJ for a few days. I'm trying to make a very complicated week a bit less tangled. I'll report in on FB if I have anything important or urgent - otherwise, expect me when I emerge. If anyone needs me urgently, try my mobile or email me. See you on the other side!
I'm trying to clear the decks for serious doings later tonight. I want to polish off the last bit of the last article, and the last bit of my teaching email and maybe, daringly, finish preparing my longer talk for Continuum. If I don't finish it tonight, I'll accumulate all my thoughts and then make sense of them tomorrow, in between doing much Hugo reading. All this deck-clearing is because I shall be much crowded for a few days and, straight after that, the Aurealis books should start arriving (if I'm lucky).
I keep forgetting to say that I won't be on LJ for a few days. I'm trying to make a very complicated week a bit less tangled. I'll report in on FB if I have anything important or urgent - otherwise, expect me when I emerge. If anyone needs me urgently, try my mobile or email me. See you on the other side!
June 3, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-03T22:27:00
People keep stopping and staring at me, or smiling at me, or, tonight, rolling down their car window at me. The car was red and my wonderful vision was not up to seeing the faces inside in the deepening dusk*, so if the faces inside the car belonged to friends, you really should have said "Yes, Gillian, we are secret Government agents, and we are tracking your every movement" - you missed a real opportunity there.
I don't always recognise people without hints or context. My father had this talent for knowing people but not remembering faces at all, and I've inherited some of it. Voices are good for years, though, and I remember people, but it sometimes takes me a bit to link the person or their voice to their current face. Not always, but sometimes. This doesn't help, for some of these people seem to know me and others recognise me from somewhere and I don't know where and they seldom say. It's as if there's a secret bar-hopping Gillian who I have yet to meet. Right now, it feels a bit strange, so, if you're someone I know and I don't respond to your smile or grimace or rolling-down-of-car-window, please do me a favour and say "Hi, Gillian." That way I'll know that I know you and my wonderful brain will start working.
The trouble is, partly, that Canberra is a small town and I've been around for a fair while and done a heap of teaching and public stuff (and there's that Women's History Month video online from March - I haven't actually watched it yet, but the camera was pointing in my direction from time to time), so there is quite a high likelihood of people looking across because they think they know me from somewhere, when, really, they don't. Twice this last fortnight I've had that conversation with women who actually stopped to chat. We worked out we couldn't possibly know each other, both times, and both times the women said "I was so sure I knew you." I think she knew me from Adelaide University, which was a challenge, even with my interesting life history.
The other possibility is that I have a double somewhere. Maybe many duplicates. If it's a real-life Orphan Black situation, then all I can say is that they should have chosen a better subject to clone and they should never have let me live in a city as small as this.
This phenomenon has only become regular for last month or so, but it's quite disconcerting. I no longer wear my most ragged clothes to go to the shops, because there's always someone who looks across at me as if they recognise me. If I were famous, it would make more sense, but I'm not, so I'm going with the clone theory. The world needs more Gillians.
*Which is the closest you're going to get to me waxing lyrical tonight.
I don't always recognise people without hints or context. My father had this talent for knowing people but not remembering faces at all, and I've inherited some of it. Voices are good for years, though, and I remember people, but it sometimes takes me a bit to link the person or their voice to their current face. Not always, but sometimes. This doesn't help, for some of these people seem to know me and others recognise me from somewhere and I don't know where and they seldom say. It's as if there's a secret bar-hopping Gillian who I have yet to meet. Right now, it feels a bit strange, so, if you're someone I know and I don't respond to your smile or grimace or rolling-down-of-car-window, please do me a favour and say "Hi, Gillian." That way I'll know that I know you and my wonderful brain will start working.
The trouble is, partly, that Canberra is a small town and I've been around for a fair while and done a heap of teaching and public stuff (and there's that Women's History Month video online from March - I haven't actually watched it yet, but the camera was pointing in my direction from time to time), so there is quite a high likelihood of people looking across because they think they know me from somewhere, when, really, they don't. Twice this last fortnight I've had that conversation with women who actually stopped to chat. We worked out we couldn't possibly know each other, both times, and both times the women said "I was so sure I knew you." I think she knew me from Adelaide University, which was a challenge, even with my interesting life history.
The other possibility is that I have a double somewhere. Maybe many duplicates. If it's a real-life Orphan Black situation, then all I can say is that they should have chosen a better subject to clone and they should never have let me live in a city as small as this.
This phenomenon has only become regular for last month or so, but it's quite disconcerting. I no longer wear my most ragged clothes to go to the shops, because there's always someone who looks across at me as if they recognise me. If I were famous, it would make more sense, but I'm not, so I'm going with the clone theory. The world needs more Gillians.
*Which is the closest you're going to get to me waxing lyrical tonight.
June 2, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-06-03T13:59:00
I really ought to say that there is no change in the unknown state of Schrodinger's Superstitious Gillian-like Duck. Maybe one day.
Also, my reading group has been brought forward to tomorrow (just for this week) and we'll be looking at Paul McAuley's Gene Wars, Oodgeroo Noonuccal's We Are Going, and William Shakespeare's The Wind and the Rain. I'm a bit nervous about what kind of discussion these three pieces will provoke, but at least it won't be dull. And all my teaching prep is done for tomorrow and I have only 9 things left on my list.
Also, my reading group has been brought forward to tomorrow (just for this week) and we'll be looking at Paul McAuley's Gene Wars, Oodgeroo Noonuccal's We Are Going, and William Shakespeare's The Wind and the Rain. I'm a bit nervous about what kind of discussion these three pieces will provoke, but at least it won't be dull. And all my teaching prep is done for tomorrow and I have only 9 things left on my list.
