Gillian Polack's Blog, page 82
February 6, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-06T22:08:00
I've done all the easy articles and am taking a break til tomorrow morning. I'll do less interesting work for the rest of the evening, but I'm glad to have reached this stage. All the really fun articles (the ones I put aside last year, specifically for now) are my tomorrow's work. I need to re-read Ankersmitt and Munslow and Feuchtwanger with new eyes. The new eyes are providing themselves, for I have a very mild migraine due to a very interesting weather shift. It's warm weather again. How unexpected.
I have a list of things to do with my time, including scanning, washing dishes, answering emails and applying for a job. I do think I've earned a break, though. If I fall asleep then it might be quite a long break...
I have a list of things to do with my time, including scanning, washing dishes, answering emails and applying for a job. I do think I've earned a break, though. If I fall asleep then it might be quite a long break...
February 5, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-06T11:23:00
I spent last night mostly sorting paper. I went through all the printouts I had made for various projects and they're all in stacks that cover my furniture rather effectively. It's just as well I did this, for today I was greeted by a welcome email that says that one of my projects has been accepted for a volume. All my current research for that is sitting on one chair...waiting (with intent to lurk, of course).
Before I can start on it, though (or continue on it, as is the case) I really need to get the book proposal done. Last night was about finding out how how many articles I have to double-check (read and take notes on, but they're all articles I've read before), for I forgot three folders of papers when I did my previous sort. Those previous folders are my work for today and tomorrow, and they amount to 130 articles. Which just goes to show that one should never leave folders stacked on a bookshelf along with the papers you're using for teaching and for the next novel, for they will tap you on the shoulder and say 'surprise' and cause you an epic oopsie.
If I can finish with all these by Saturday afternoon, then I still get to go to meat-on-a-stick festival. And I'll have two full bags of recycling to go out, but the bags will be so heavy I can't pick them up. And I'll be up to date.
What this all means is that my February aim for academic prose is about 60,000 words. Since most of this is researched already and this is a low-teaching month, it is entirely achievable. We'll see how achievable 130 articles are, however. I'll report back to you on that.
Before I can start on it, though (or continue on it, as is the case) I really need to get the book proposal done. Last night was about finding out how how many articles I have to double-check (read and take notes on, but they're all articles I've read before), for I forgot three folders of papers when I did my previous sort. Those previous folders are my work for today and tomorrow, and they amount to 130 articles. Which just goes to show that one should never leave folders stacked on a bookshelf along with the papers you're using for teaching and for the next novel, for they will tap you on the shoulder and say 'surprise' and cause you an epic oopsie.
If I can finish with all these by Saturday afternoon, then I still get to go to meat-on-a-stick festival. And I'll have two full bags of recycling to go out, but the bags will be so heavy I can't pick them up. And I'll be up to date.
What this all means is that my February aim for academic prose is about 60,000 words. Since most of this is researched already and this is a low-teaching month, it is entirely achievable. We'll see how achievable 130 articles are, however. I'll report back to you on that.
February 4, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-05T08:19:00
Last night must've been lovely and cool for, despite my place being sealed against smoke, it's four degrees cooler than yesterday. And I slept for seven full hours!
Today is my first class in a new place. I'm teaching my Wednesday class in a library this term. This loses me my coffee/chai to start with, but it opens up some amazing teaching possibilities. I love teaching in libraries.
Mind you, today I intend to teach my students all about defacing stationery. A friend was writing post-it note poetry the other day and I thought "How much can one learn about form from poetry that belongs to a particular type of surface?" I've collected two sizes of post-it notes, some old cataloguing files, some manila folders and a bunch of other things. It's a good way to start the year, I think.
Right now, however, I'm putting off making coffee, for once I start with coffee, the day will be entirely non-stop until quite late. I keep thinking that if I don't have the coffee, the day will be placid, but the truth is that if I don't have the coffee, all that will happen is that I won't have had coffee.
Today is my first class in a new place. I'm teaching my Wednesday class in a library this term. This loses me my coffee/chai to start with, but it opens up some amazing teaching possibilities. I love teaching in libraries.
Mind you, today I intend to teach my students all about defacing stationery. A friend was writing post-it note poetry the other day and I thought "How much can one learn about form from poetry that belongs to a particular type of surface?" I've collected two sizes of post-it notes, some old cataloguing files, some manila folders and a bunch of other things. It's a good way to start the year, I think.
Right now, however, I'm putting off making coffee, for once I start with coffee, the day will be entirely non-stop until quite late. I keep thinking that if I don't have the coffee, the day will be placid, but the truth is that if I don't have the coffee, all that will happen is that I won't have had coffee.
February 3, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-04T11:13:00
Today started with readers' reports and will probably end with them. In the middle will be much of everything, including bushfire smoke. Right now, in fact, it's lovely outside and hot and sticky inside because of smoke. I like to think that readers' reports reflect this. They're important, but not my favourite aspect of academia.
My plans today are, as ever, wildly exciting. I intend to finish with all endnotes in the universe by 2 pm at the very latest. Then I plan to draft a chapter of something. Or I may reverse the proceedings, or interlace them. Either way, I have until 3 pm to have done some drafting and got rid of all my vast notes (which now amount to about 6 pages of references listed on the computer and just two piles of random notes).
Today is the day for getting stuff through this stage, for tomorrow teaching begins. The more I get done today, the easier the rest of the week will be. This is why I have an enormous pot of coffee, of course. There is no other reason...
My plans today are, as ever, wildly exciting. I intend to finish with all endnotes in the universe by 2 pm at the very latest. Then I plan to draft a chapter of something. Or I may reverse the proceedings, or interlace them. Either way, I have until 3 pm to have done some drafting and got rid of all my vast notes (which now amount to about 6 pages of references listed on the computer and just two piles of random notes).
Today is the day for getting stuff through this stage, for tomorrow teaching begins. The more I get done today, the easier the rest of the week will be. This is why I have an enormous pot of coffee, of course. There is no other reason...
February 2, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-03T12:45:00
I woke up today and my eyes decided to develop their own little side-brain. I saw piles of unfinished work, rather than seeing the innards of a project. My goal until dinnertime will be to denude my desk and its surrounds of at least six of those piles (one is done!) and to demolish 148 pages of holding file on the computer. Imagine, being able to see my projects beyond the litter their offshoots leave behind...
February 1, 2014
Why I read who I read
I like to think that I read a lot, but really, I only get through about 200 short stories a year (at most, some years it’s more like 80) and about 150 novels.* This means I need to be selective in my reading.
There are some writers of reasonable renown who have selected themselves out of my reading,** and there is a tendency among quite a few emerging writers to join their ranks.
I have lists of authors I watch out for. They won’t be invited into my anthologies, and they will have to produce a near-perfect manuscript for me to accept something from them. I won’t beta read for them anymore, because they’re not learning from what I say and so they’re wasting my time: they don’t have to do what I suggest if they ask for my input, but they do have to improve their work following the beta read. Worst of all, I don’t race out to read their work when I see it in print.
All these things fall out of one simple reason – I’ve seen too much material from them that is half-baked. If someone asks me privately for an opinion of their work, then the answer I give could be “A bunch of talent, but dead lazy,” or “Needs lots of editing,” or “Doesn’t world build credibly,” or “Gets basic understandings wrong and grossly insults their readership,” or “Wrong market,” or “They’re writing the way most other people do – the story is very trendy, but derivative and will date” – and other things. The underlying reason is, however, that they're playing with me in not giving me consistently good reading.
I have other lists of authors I watch out for. I read every word, avidly. I will buy a magazine because their name is in it. I will want them in my books (see the table of contents of Baggage – all those writers were invited). I will be happy to beta read even when I’m busy (and have done so, twice this week) and I don’t care if they’re famous, infamous or completely unknown. All I know is that I love their writing.
Sometimes they send me a less-than-good piece to look at, and when they do, I’m afraid I scold them. I tell them about punctuation and run-on sentences and poverty of the built world and I say “This isn’t your best work.” Each and every one of them then picks up and turns the not-so-good into something worth reading. And none of them sends me anything less than interesting twice. They show me that they appreciate me as a reader through the way they treat me as a beta reader and as an editor. This is crucial. All editors are readers first. So I can, as a reader, trust them and hunt out their work. I can tell people “Read so-and-so” because even their worst writing will be worth the time.
It’s not how many times one submits a story, it’s who one submits that story to. It’s not how many words we write, it’s how well we write those words. It’s not all about the splash of entry into the writing world, it’s about maintaining a reputation as a good writer so that readers will seek us out over and over again.
I’ve been thinking as an editor this week, for a number of reasons, but the place I’m in right now reminds me always, that the editor is first and foremost a reader. If writers don’t see this, then they’re wasting an editor’s time. It may cost them sales or reputation. It will certainly cost them the grail of finding more and more readers who must read our work, who can’t live a day without buying our latest, and who read all night because the story gives them no way out until it’s finished.
* For those keeping track of the numbers, everything else is non-fiction.
**If I’ve said nice things about you here, you are not in that number. There are lots of writers about whom I haven’t said nice things who are also not in that number. I trust and even love the work of many writers. I'm just annoyed right now at other writers. I want to love their work. I truly do. And I want to support them. And I find it becomes harder and harder and I look more and more like someone born to be mean.
There are some writers of reasonable renown who have selected themselves out of my reading,** and there is a tendency among quite a few emerging writers to join their ranks.
I have lists of authors I watch out for. They won’t be invited into my anthologies, and they will have to produce a near-perfect manuscript for me to accept something from them. I won’t beta read for them anymore, because they’re not learning from what I say and so they’re wasting my time: they don’t have to do what I suggest if they ask for my input, but they do have to improve their work following the beta read. Worst of all, I don’t race out to read their work when I see it in print.
All these things fall out of one simple reason – I’ve seen too much material from them that is half-baked. If someone asks me privately for an opinion of their work, then the answer I give could be “A bunch of talent, but dead lazy,” or “Needs lots of editing,” or “Doesn’t world build credibly,” or “Gets basic understandings wrong and grossly insults their readership,” or “Wrong market,” or “They’re writing the way most other people do – the story is very trendy, but derivative and will date” – and other things. The underlying reason is, however, that they're playing with me in not giving me consistently good reading.
I have other lists of authors I watch out for. I read every word, avidly. I will buy a magazine because their name is in it. I will want them in my books (see the table of contents of Baggage – all those writers were invited). I will be happy to beta read even when I’m busy (and have done so, twice this week) and I don’t care if they’re famous, infamous or completely unknown. All I know is that I love their writing.
Sometimes they send me a less-than-good piece to look at, and when they do, I’m afraid I scold them. I tell them about punctuation and run-on sentences and poverty of the built world and I say “This isn’t your best work.” Each and every one of them then picks up and turns the not-so-good into something worth reading. And none of them sends me anything less than interesting twice. They show me that they appreciate me as a reader through the way they treat me as a beta reader and as an editor. This is crucial. All editors are readers first. So I can, as a reader, trust them and hunt out their work. I can tell people “Read so-and-so” because even their worst writing will be worth the time.
It’s not how many times one submits a story, it’s who one submits that story to. It’s not how many words we write, it’s how well we write those words. It’s not all about the splash of entry into the writing world, it’s about maintaining a reputation as a good writer so that readers will seek us out over and over again.
I’ve been thinking as an editor this week, for a number of reasons, but the place I’m in right now reminds me always, that the editor is first and foremost a reader. If writers don’t see this, then they’re wasting an editor’s time. It may cost them sales or reputation. It will certainly cost them the grail of finding more and more readers who must read our work, who can’t live a day without buying our latest, and who read all night because the story gives them no way out until it’s finished.
* For those keeping track of the numbers, everything else is non-fiction.
**If I’ve said nice things about you here, you are not in that number. There are lots of writers about whom I haven’t said nice things who are also not in that number. I trust and even love the work of many writers. I'm just annoyed right now at other writers. I want to love their work. I truly do. And I want to support them. And I find it becomes harder and harder and I look more and more like someone born to be mean.
gillpolack @ 2014-02-02T11:20:00
Between waking up and getting home from the market the temperature rose by fifteen degrees. This means that, currently, garlic chives is the dominant scent in my day.
My marketing today included iced coffee (sans icecream), garlic chives, snake beans, shallots, clingstone peaches, nectarines, Stanley plums, cucumber, tiny mushrooms, two types of capsicum, two types of onion and some really good heritage carrots for baking. I told the lady who sold me her last bunch of knobbly carrots that I thought I would roast these with duck fat when the weather cools and the guy standing next to me wanted to invite himself to dinner.
After the market, we watched the pilot episode of DS9 and drank kopi jawa. We worked out that if we start earlier, we can do market and Star Trek and still have most of Sunday for other things. And we were right. I'm home and happy and ready to get into work.
Because today is still heatwavery, I've already cooked dinner and it's particularly spicy chilli. Late tonight I intend to use the mushrooms and some of the capsicum to make another dish that's all vegies and just a bit of meat and full of spices. That will see me through what looks as if it might be a busy week. If I have solid food to come home to the first week of teaching, I must be less tempted by junk food. I've already prepared my teaching bag, too, since my first class is my favourite one and I have plans to imbue sticky notes and other stationery with poetry.
My marketing today included iced coffee (sans icecream), garlic chives, snake beans, shallots, clingstone peaches, nectarines, Stanley plums, cucumber, tiny mushrooms, two types of capsicum, two types of onion and some really good heritage carrots for baking. I told the lady who sold me her last bunch of knobbly carrots that I thought I would roast these with duck fat when the weather cools and the guy standing next to me wanted to invite himself to dinner.
After the market, we watched the pilot episode of DS9 and drank kopi jawa. We worked out that if we start earlier, we can do market and Star Trek and still have most of Sunday for other things. And we were right. I'm home and happy and ready to get into work.
Because today is still heatwavery, I've already cooked dinner and it's particularly spicy chilli. Late tonight I intend to use the mushrooms and some of the capsicum to make another dish that's all vegies and just a bit of meat and full of spices. That will see me through what looks as if it might be a busy week. If I have solid food to come home to the first week of teaching, I must be less tempted by junk food. I've already prepared my teaching bag, too, since my first class is my favourite one and I have plans to imbue sticky notes and other stationery with poetry.
January 31, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-02-01T17:32:00
We're possibly up to peak heat (38 degrees or thereabouts) and so I'm up to peak I-don't-wanna-work. In a perfect world, this is when I'd get the missing four hours sleep from my night, but this world is not perfect.
This heat wave isn't as impossible as the last, but I'm most definitely lazier. I have seven types of work interrupted around my living area. I am becoming a Master of Procrastination. I'm even tempted to wash my dishes.
Other people keep telling me how much work I'm doing. This amuses me. I look at stacks of paper and will them to write themselves into intelligent thoughts and erudite paragraphs. This is what my friends and family mistake for labour.
Right now would be a good time to see a movie with a friend, I suspect, except I shan't ask around, for those seven types of work need to be diminished, somehow, sometime, somewhere...
This heat wave isn't as impossible as the last, but I'm most definitely lazier. I have seven types of work interrupted around my living area. I am becoming a Master of Procrastination. I'm even tempted to wash my dishes.
Other people keep telling me how much work I'm doing. This amuses me. I look at stacks of paper and will them to write themselves into intelligent thoughts and erudite paragraphs. This is what my friends and family mistake for labour.
Right now would be a good time to see a movie with a friend, I suspect, except I shan't ask around, for those seven types of work need to be diminished, somehow, sometime, somewhere...
gillpolack @ 2014-02-01T13:12:00
Late last night, I decided to be virtuous and accept the hints thrown my way (about recipes for ice cream). I got distracted, so instead of an ancient recipe for ice cream, you have this:
A Cordial Water of Sir Walter Raleigh
Take a gallon of Strawberries, and put them into a pint of Aqua vitæ, let them stand for four or five days, strain them gently out, and sweeten the water as you please with fine Sugar; or else with perfume.
Strawberries are rather nice at the moment, but the quantity this makes is too much for a single person, so I'm offering to come round and help drink it.
This morning I was terribly virtuous. I got up early (3 times, in fact, due to neighbourly cars pulling in and out in front of my bedroom) and began my messages by 8 am. I finished around 11 am and am now enmired in the heat of the day. I can't sleep it out, because those-who-do-not-close-doors are in a quiet battle with everyone else, and front doors keep being slammed. There's only been one pointed comment: everything's being done in silence.
The frowning silence makes me think how terribly British Australia is sometimes.
I was part of four very courteous queues today. We're not as nice as the Brits, and didn't chat or swap life stories (I learn so much about people's private lives whenever I queue in Britain), but we did line up politely. I wasn't the only one getting messages done before the heat of the day. We were all friendly and opened doors for each other and smiled and waited and waited and waited. None of the waiting was as bad as the other day, for I only got 1/3 of a book read, instead of 3 books. My book-du-matin was Mark Lawrence' Prince of Thorns, as part of my current grimdarkness. I need to find more non-Abercrombie grimdarkness, I suspect. All recommendations gratefully accepted.
Last night I beta read, but I also worked on a different type of grimdarkness: chansons de geste. There is a grimdark branch or two of them - mostly untranslated into English, very sadly. All this grimdarkness is by request and a chapter will appear in a book one day, all going well. To make people happy, I've chosen to talk about one of the few chansons de geste of this nature that has been translated into English. I suspect the original was written by Joe Abercrombie in a prior life.
If anyone has encountered work written by me in a prior life, I want to know!
ETA: The Great War of the Front Door was just lost. I was on the phone to Mum and commented how hot it had become inside. I sneaked my door a little open and saw that the front door was gaping wide and that all the cool from all the flats had escaped. It's 35 degrees outside. My turn to check every fifteen minutes and to gently close that door. We're not at the warmest part of the day yet...
ETA2: "It's not fair," said the youngest from next door. "They close it." The signs saying "Keep door shut" support the unfairness of us all. The older from next door firmly shut the door despite his brother's complaints. Obviously someone is learning.
A Cordial Water of Sir Walter Raleigh
Take a gallon of Strawberries, and put them into a pint of Aqua vitæ, let them stand for four or five days, strain them gently out, and sweeten the water as you please with fine Sugar; or else with perfume.
Strawberries are rather nice at the moment, but the quantity this makes is too much for a single person, so I'm offering to come round and help drink it.
This morning I was terribly virtuous. I got up early (3 times, in fact, due to neighbourly cars pulling in and out in front of my bedroom) and began my messages by 8 am. I finished around 11 am and am now enmired in the heat of the day. I can't sleep it out, because those-who-do-not-close-doors are in a quiet battle with everyone else, and front doors keep being slammed. There's only been one pointed comment: everything's being done in silence.
The frowning silence makes me think how terribly British Australia is sometimes.
I was part of four very courteous queues today. We're not as nice as the Brits, and didn't chat or swap life stories (I learn so much about people's private lives whenever I queue in Britain), but we did line up politely. I wasn't the only one getting messages done before the heat of the day. We were all friendly and opened doors for each other and smiled and waited and waited and waited. None of the waiting was as bad as the other day, for I only got 1/3 of a book read, instead of 3 books. My book-du-matin was Mark Lawrence' Prince of Thorns, as part of my current grimdarkness. I need to find more non-Abercrombie grimdarkness, I suspect. All recommendations gratefully accepted.
Last night I beta read, but I also worked on a different type of grimdarkness: chansons de geste. There is a grimdark branch or two of them - mostly untranslated into English, very sadly. All this grimdarkness is by request and a chapter will appear in a book one day, all going well. To make people happy, I've chosen to talk about one of the few chansons de geste of this nature that has been translated into English. I suspect the original was written by Joe Abercrombie in a prior life.
If anyone has encountered work written by me in a prior life, I want to know!
ETA: The Great War of the Front Door was just lost. I was on the phone to Mum and commented how hot it had become inside. I sneaked my door a little open and saw that the front door was gaping wide and that all the cool from all the flats had escaped. It's 35 degrees outside. My turn to check every fifteen minutes and to gently close that door. We're not at the warmest part of the day yet...
ETA2: "It's not fair," said the youngest from next door. "They close it." The signs saying "Keep door shut" support the unfairness of us all. The older from next door firmly shut the door despite his brother's complaints. Obviously someone is learning.
January 29, 2014
gillpolack @ 2014-01-30T17:32:00
It really is a bit warm today.
I looked in my freezer and realised I have just enough of my 17th century-style sugarless homemade blackberry icecream to for today, tomorrow and, if I'm clever, Saturday. It goes into very good cold coffee and turns it into a rich and cooling afternoon treat. It's interesting how the richness means that the sugar and other additives are unnecessary. And with so much less sugar than regular iced coffee, it really does the trick in cooling me down.
I looked in my freezer and realised I have just enough of my 17th century-style sugarless homemade blackberry icecream to for today, tomorrow and, if I'm clever, Saturday. It goes into very good cold coffee and turns it into a rich and cooling afternoon treat. It's interesting how the richness means that the sugar and other additives are unnecessary. And with so much less sugar than regular iced coffee, it really does the trick in cooling me down.
