Gillian Polack's Blog, page 9

gillpolack @ 2016-06-06T21:45:00

In the rush to cancel my teaching with the operation and all, one phonecall wasn't made. I am so glad it wasn't made. It means that I have a full day's workshop to give the day after my official time out finishes. Since I will really, really need the income (things are tight, for pretty obvious reasons), I hope enrolments are high.

This workshop was supposed to be a part of a whole slab of celebratory events for the release of the History and Fiction book. It's the only surviving element. It was also my favourite of the events, so I'm glad it escaped culling.

I'll be teaching riters a practical translation of my research. It's not about perfecting factual research for fiction - it's about writing novels that use history in the way that best reflects the sort of novel they are.

Details are here: https://t.co/yZ1jMWsylQ

I'll be paid per student, so I'm hoping for a solid enrollment (it'll make a big difference to my winter finances) - if any of you know someone who might be interested, please feel free to let them know about it.

I wasn't expecting a gratuitous ad on my blog, but then, I wasn't expecting this particular facet of life to catch up with me. I'm very pleased it has, for it appears that I will be getting no government help with either living expenses or medical. And from here, most of the medical stuff will cost - I was exceptionally fortunate to have most of it free until now.

gillpolack @ 2016-06-06T14:18:00

I have good news for a change.

An engineer has just inspected my flat. This is related to the big structural problems of a few years ago. The body corporate wanted a disinterested assessment of what the situation is now, two years after the adjustments were made. And it all works. Things are stable and safe.

The cracks are my problem now (they weren't supposed to be, but fighting to get them fixed by the body corporate is beyond my energy), for they are cosmetic. Basically, I need much filler-of-cracks, a bunch of re-painting and the bathroom needs some re-tiling. I can't do any of this, but it's good to know that this is what needs to be done and it's really great to know that my unit is safe from collapse now.

gillpolack @ 2016-05-31T17:27:00

Each day I get a little better, but the things I have to do outpace them. Today I thought "If I have a really solid sleep-in, I'll be fine" but I had two phone calls. I slept in, but not quite enough. I had a nap this afternoon and am less fragile, but I keep forgetting that my body demands loads of sleep and that the everyday is hard work.

Tomorrow I have a big day (an 8 hour day, mainly of medical things) and so on Thursday I shall spend just as much time in bed as I need. If my body won't keep pace with my life, I need to have days when my life is much slower.

My big achievement for today was making a list of all the non-medical things that must be done before the end of June. Now that I'm more convalescent than death-warmed up I have to do stuff I postponed (including my tax, which I hope and pray will give me enough of a return to pay my electricity bill this winter). About 4 hours a week, I calculate. My big challenge will be completing those four hours without pushing my body beyond its limits. I promise, I won't push the body too far - if necessary I shall make phonecalls and postpone some things a bit longer. I want to do everything, however - it's important to me. I shall do them with care and auction and tick them off my lit and feel as if I'm regaining my life.

I have three lists, now: my daily one for medicine and doctor-ordered exercise and etc; my six weekly one to get me through convalescence; and my 'please let me be able to do all this one time!" one. I already have prioritised the latter, so that the tasks affecting other people will be done regardless. I still want to be able to complete it all. We'l see.

gillpolack @ 2016-05-28T12:47:00

I just realised that, ever since I came out of hospital, I've been learning how to move quickly without hurrying. Hurrying is dangerous, you see, until I'm fully healed - there's too much that might go wrong. I have mostly mastered this skill. If I don't have much time, for instance, I can now shower and dress in three minutes or less , but I do it in a considered and leisurely manner without anxiety or stress.

This is an exceptionally handy skill for everyday life and I wish I'd learned it earlier!

gillpolack @ 2016-05-27T20:24:00

Every couple of days I note to myself the return of missing parts of myself. One particularly momentous day I was given my sense of taste back.

Today, I have my own gait and I have the capacity to properly massage (only for about 20 seconds) the sites of operation. The former makes me feel as if I've been returned to my own body and the latter reassures me that I can diminish my scarring. It also helps me open doors.

If I can walk fluidly, I can build up and run fast again. I was a sprinter when I was a teenager and it would be nice to find a turn of speed again, even if I only use it for catching trains.

My energy levels are picking up, too (sporadically) so, with warning, I can see friends. Give me a ring and you may be able to visit! I need warning though, for I have strict limits on what I'm allowed to do and overtiring myself isn't one of them.

gillpolack @ 2016-05-26T23:36:00

I wrote a beautiful long entry and LJ argued with me and alas it was deleted. This is a shame for I was trying to wax poetic. This is probably not as great a shame as I think, for brain fog means that I think things I do are perfect when they're quite mistaken.

For those who missed the news, I had an asthma attack on 5 April and ended up with a quadruple bypass on 15 April. That asthma attack and an exceptionally clever emergency team at the hospital saved my life. Now my mother and some of my friends are saving my sanity. I stayed with one friend for two weeks, others for a week and have been home (but watched over by Mum) since then. Mum has gone and I am independent. Still on sick leave, but able to do many things. I've been very well cared for and I love my friends (and my mother!) very much.

my progress has marked stages. I was so proud when I could stand up to shower and then even more so when I opened my own front door (which is quite heavy) but now I can do laundry and make salads. For a bit longer (a few weeks, I suspect) I'll be reheating main meals (cooked by more awesomely supportive friends, for I haven't yet been approved of for financial help from the government) and then I'll be able to cook and catch buses and teach and all.

I'll be able to do a few hours work weekly from my desk at home from Monday, but it has to be timed to not coincide with brain fog. I shall build up gradually and by mid July I will theoretically be back to normal. The theoreticality in that statement is partly me being cautious and partly the suspicion that I will gradually return to my old normal over the next few months.

What is my old normal? I'm so glad you asked, but I can't explain it. All I can say is that every friend who has known me for long enough bursts into uncontrollable laughter when they realise that none of my newer friends have met my normal self. Two have described me as scary. I am not at all terrifying (if I were, they wouldn't be my friends!) but I am possibly hard to keep up with. It means I can be on committees and do my own work and help others and write novels and do folk dance and stuff all at once. I get a lot of joy out of life. I make many, many most excellent jokes. I get excited about the colours of autumn leaves and about shards of opal.

I miss the old me and I really hope that I return. And the fact that there was an old me and a heart-problem me certainly explains the slowness of the last few years.

Healing is fulltime work, so don't expect anything astonishing of me immediately. It's as hard work as the last three months of a doctorate and has far more emotional impact.

For those people (who are many in number) who want to give me advice, can I ask you to think first? My condition is hereditary and is now under control. I'm attending a lecture program as a part of my rehab and being given a lot of very handy background (this week was basic anatomy and we got to play with stents). Any advice you give needs to take both of those into account. And it should not relate to my weight or my eating habits, for both of those have been cleared as culprits.

My friends are just amazing. I came out of hospital just 3 days before my 55th birthday, and presents appear every few days, for I missed both Passover and the planned birthday party. Best thing possible for the moral of someone like me. I become very moody (it's apparently normal) and being reassured that one is loved by those who one cannot see (as well as the friends taking care of me) lifts the moods and makes me smile. When I retrieve the rest of my get well cards from the friend who was minding them, I plan to have a splendid line up and use it whenever despondency strikes.

And that's my update! If I can't give updates often (and I really can't) then you need a solid one when I am able.

Update

Hi

This is me, myself. I'm not home yet and I don't have normal computer use yet, but the friend taking care of me have dropped by my place, since I am finally well enough to do a proper post. I'll keep doing quick updates on Facebook when I can, and, just by the way things are going, it may be a bit longer before I'm healed.

I did indeed have an asthma attack, but my asthma is still of the mild variety (apart from that one night) and I also had the virus that everyone else got from natCon and I had PMT. being Gillian, this was not enough for me and they kept me in hospital until they had a full diagnosis. This took several days. At this time they were pleased with everything else (for it had all cleared) but told me I might get a stent or something. Then the angiogram was done and a bunch of excited surgeons crowded round my bed and said "We're doing a bypass or three!" It turned out to be four. I call it the Gillian ring road system.

Friends are taking care of me (for it was a rather big operation) and it will be 9 1/2 weeks before I"m fully recovered. Fully recovered, however, will mean I'm better than almost all of you have ever seen me.

Passover was a bowl of rice at a friend's place for I was released from hospital in time but was too sick to arrange anything and I actually had my birthday with friends. It was quiet, but at least I was out of hospital.

And this is as far as my energy levels will take me.

I'm working on getting better but it's slow and sore. I'll let you know when I'm home nad you can ask me all the questions then.

I'm missing you all!

gillpolack @ 2016-04-03T15:21:00

I'm here and I've a lot to catch up with. I had a fabulous National SF convention and meant to report on it, but came back to the release of my History and Fiction book and to bushfire smoke and to teaching and the world suddenly contracted. So there is much good news and just a bit of bad news.

I still have WHM posts and will put them up over the coming days, until I run out. Just this year, it will be March-April celebration.

Today I spent a few minutes discovering some very interstate things about the Misses Polack, who were much more important than I had thought, given the family chatter. I should remember that the family is still a bit uncomfortable about internal positions of spinsters. We're not unloved (by any means) but I'm not sure traditional Jewish families now what to do with us. I was all geared to tell you about them here, when I realised that there's a novel coming out son (there were delays, that's one of my bits of news) and that it would make a really nice guest blog post for anyone who wants. The first person to ask me about the Misses Polack and their luxury lifestyle will get an illustrated blogpost (I have no pictures of them, alas), and I will entirely enjoy writing it. Because they were public figures, I can find about them from Trove, which is very nice. I even have descriptions of their clothes and when they travelled. They were very much part of Miss Fisher's Melbourne until they went into receivership in 1932.

Expect me as you see me this week. I'm doing a big catch up.

Over the weekend I have the new GUFF delegate staying, so I won't be online much at all. Fortunately for me, the people he needs to meet just happens to be my friends. I anticipate next weekend being very good indeed.

Women's History Month - Vashti Farrer

Vashti Farrer is an Australian historical fiction writer.

There has never been a time when I haven’t been conscious of writing - as a woman, even if it has only meant having to think like a man or a little boy when my protagonist was male. Clearly, they have a different outlook on life and that needs to be reflected in their speech and behaviour. Germaine Greer may have urged us to give our sons dolls instead footballs to bring out their more sensitive side, but mine was adamant he would have preferred a football.

I first encountered an obstacle in trying to write as a woman, when I married. Before that I’d had adult short stories broadcast on the ABC and published under my maiden name / pseudonym of Vashti Farrer. Having married, however, we moved to Canberra where I approached The Canberra Times seeking to become a book reviewer. Yes, but they said, not as Farrer. It was newspaper policy apparently to pay married by-lines, so any work I’d produced in the past had to stay there, because even with an unusual Christian name, the average reader would now regard me as two different people.

Needless to say I swallowed my pride and accepted cheques addressed to Mrs.

Years later we moved back to Sydney and I contacted The Sydney Morning Herald and was again accepted as a reviewer. “I suppose you pay a married by-line?” I asked. “Whatever for?” said the editor. I explained, thinking the newspapers were co-owned, but she said, “I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous!” So I went back to being Farrer. When the Society of Women Writers NSW Inc was asked to appear before a Parliamentary Inquiry into restrictions placed on married women I gave evidence explaining what had happened to me only to find, on returning to Canberra, that things had changed. Now, the Times would allow my Farrer by-line which then caused several raised eyebrows in our former babysitting club because the gossip was that we must have divorced!

Children presented another challenge to writing. I’d foolishly thought that a career writing from home with small children would be easy. After all, I only had to wait till they were asleep. Haha! I hadn’t envisaged the days when I would finally manage to get the eldest to take a nap while I juggled breastfeeding the baby and typing up the final draft of a story with one hand. Tricky.

We couldn’t afford a nanny to allow me the luxury to write in peace and by the time I had three children and needed to undertake research I would end up taking all three to the Australian War Memorial where the library section in those days was divided into small glassed offices. This allowed me to hand the older two their colouring books and pencils and settle the toddler with his toys on the floor. It only happened a few times and luckily they seemed to sense that this was not the sort of place where you made any noise.


Deadlines were always a problem. Children have the strange habit of demanding that their needs be met first. This of course meant having to wait till they were in bed to sit up, sometimes till 2 am to finish a review or story. On one occasion my husband was away and it was 9 pm before all the bedtime stories had been read and the lights out. Then, and only then, did I sit down to write a short story I had to post to a competition the following morning. Fortunately it was all in my head, so to speak, so it flowed onto the page and I finished it at midnight. I was delighted when it came second, but couldn’t help thinking that the young man who won it, probably didn’t have to contend with the obstacles I’d had to get it written.

Motherhood, by definition, carries with it a certain amount of guilt, like a permanent shawl around the shoulders. Another time I told the kids I had to get a story in to The Canberra Times by 5 pm, (it was then 4.55). I charged into the office, thinking, “All systems go!” only to hear the 2 year old say to his siblings, “Shut up, darling, mummy busy!” and I felt terrible. No doubt I’d committed my kids to years of psychiatrists’ couches for my neglect - because of being a mother trying to write.

But all three grew up realising that writing was important to me. So when they were teenagers, and I said I had a story to finish for a competition, and if they could get their own lunch and not worry about me, I’d make it up to them by taking them out for a slap-up afternoon tea. Okay so it was bribery and I thought no more about it as I tapped away at the keyboard. Then suddenly the door of my study opened and a disembodied arm came round and deposited a mug of coffee on my desk. Then another arm, equally disembodied, came round and lowered a plate with a sandwich on it onto the desk. This was the point at which I realised that maybe they wouldn’t end up on shrinks’ couches.

Now I’ve come full circle. My kids are proud of what I’ve written, but even more so, my grandchildren are. They tell their school mates and teachers. I’ve managed to dedicate a book to all but one of them (and I’m working on that) and they are inspired to write stories of their own. They ask for tips and regularly report on plots and ideas. So, writing as a woman, may have had its problems in the past, but no longer.

Women's History Month - Y.S. Lee

Y. S. Lee is the author of the award-winning Agency novels (Walker Books/Candlewick Press), a quartet of mysteries featuring a mixed-race girl detective in Victorian London. After earning a Ph.D. in English literature, Ying realized that her true love was gritty historical detail – something she tries to make the most of in her fiction. She lives with her family in Kingston, Ontario. Visit her at www.yslee.com or on Twitter @yinglee


“I’m stuck.”

Hello, friends. This week, I felt tired. I was easily irritated. I slept poorly, drank too much coffee, and didn’t get enough fresh air. It follows that I also didn’t write as much of my novel as I’d hoped – and not for lack of honest effort.

In the past, I’d have been angry with myself. I’d have decided that I was a slacker and an impostor, and found ways to punish myself. It would not have occurred to me that a) I don’t treat others this way, and 2) I would not tolerate this treatment from someone else.

However, in a small but encouraging sign that change is always possible, I didn’t fall for the own-worst-enemy routine. Instead, I decided to be gentle with myself. I gave myself an hour off. And when that hour was over, I went to my writing shed and happily fixed a scene that had been troubling me for 2 days. It really works, not being a jerk to oneself.

In an effort to step back and protect myself in future rough weeks, I’ve made a checklist called, “I’m stuck/tired/lethargic/don’t feel up to writing, WAAAAAH.” As its name so subtly suggests, I’m aiming to train myself to refer to this list every time I feel stuck, etc.

When I mentioned my checklist on Twitter, I got an immediate response and fell into a really interesting private conversation with another writer, which made me think that I should share my list here. It’s geared to me as a self-employed writer, of course, but I think it’s much more broadly applicable.

So, on days or in moments when I feel stuck, etc., my goal is to step back and consider: why do I feel this way? Is it a) low mood, 2) mental fatigue, 3) physical fatigue, or 4) a combination (or something else entirely)?

Then, I have a list of strategies for each type of problem.

Low mood

Focus on self-care: go for a walk, practise yoga, or make a cup of tea and drink it while looking at the garden.
Do a couple of small tasks that cost little energy and are satisfying to check off on a list (viva the bullet journal!).
Organize something small; choose something that gives positive concrete results.
Think about another aspect of my life that I could change, with satisfying results, and make a plan to take care of it.
After an period of self-care, try slipping into a writing session. Even a couple of hundred words can be a triumph.

Mental fatigue

Take a short break from work.
Focus on something concrete and personal (NOT for the children!).
Maybe do something domestic: garden, bake, tidy.
After a break, turn towards the WIP: where am I in this project? What tweaks do I need to make? Make notes towards the next writing session. Maybe slip into that writing session, or maybe not.

Physical fatigue

Rest, already!
Read (secondary sources or go over the existing WIP).
Think about an aspect of the WIP and where it’s going. Once the brain is humming, slip into a writing session.

If progress on the WIP remains elusive

Work on a secondary project (mine is currently a picture book)
Make a list of scenes, flesh out in the historical detail in the existing WIP
Read secondary sources
Figure out how to start the next writing session with a sense of momentum, inevitability – map out where I need to go

That’s my checklist-in-progress. It’s far from exhaustive, though, and I hope to build on it. What do you do, friends? How do you manage work slumps and protect yourself from your harshest critic?



Today's post first appeared on Wednesday, May 27th, 2015, at http://yslee.com/2015/05/im-stuck/ It is re-eprinted with the author's permission.