Feb. 11th, 2006

gillpolack: (Default)
From Nicole

My husband invested in a wireless connection for our computer network today. I am now able to sit in my writing room and connect to the internet and send emails and everything! Yes, we have a network, and I have my own writing room. The network is courtesy of my computer-geek husband Tim (who surprisingly isn't that into sci fi, although he loves The X Files). In his office (which I'm still part using for a couple of weeks), there is no less than six computers. His computer, my computer (which I've used for internet and email access up til now), a server for the network, a mail server and an internet server (we host our own websites and email) and the firewall. There are also two laptops in the house: the old laptop that I was using (it would take five minutes to upload my novel) and the new laptop, which is still old but much less old than the old one :)

I'm taking over the new laptop. I do all my writing in a spare room at the back of the house. The reason for this was really necessity: this office is in another room of the house and it's just too small for us both to be in here for any extended length of time together. Since his work (which makes money) was more important than mine, it would have meant I had to wait for the times when he wasn't in the room. Even now, there are only certain times I can come in to answer emails or surf. But now, I'll be able to do the whole thing from the other end of the hall, and without any gastly wires that I have to somehow vacuum around. My writing room is an absolute joy. I can lock myself away and not be disturbed. I surrounded by my things: my books, my toys, my music. It's a haven and the moment I walk in there, the mood to write starts to grow. Everyone should have a writing room. Unfortunately, I'll probably lose it in the move to Canberra. But I'll never forget it.

The best thing about this all is that I never have to go into the office again. That means I never have to look at the growing piles of paper and the general disorganisation. I'm not quite sure what's happened to me; when we met I was even more of a slob than Tim. But the older I get, the more I care about having things neat and tidy and organised. It's as though age is robbing me of the ability to ignore it, and I'm not even that old. What will I be like when I'm forty, or fifty, or sixty? Could I turn into a fussy old woman who won't let anyone wear shoes in the house and covers the floor and furniture with plastic? Could I go from someone who can stand having dirty dishes in the sink for a day to someone who can't stand to have dirty dishes in the sink and hour after breakfast? And how will my still laid-back husband deal with all this?

In fact, I think one of the most dreadful things in the world is happening to me. I think I'm turning into my mother. Help!

Although, nice thought, my mother has never sold a copy of an anthology that she's edited, but I have! The first pre-order of The Outcast has occurred, through Donna Hanson's Australian Speculative Fiction site. Yay! Maybe I'm not turning into my mother after all. Just to be on the safe side, however, I think I'll go and put a couple of pieces of paper in the middle of the loungeroom floor and leave them there, all night! Go me!

May 2013

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
1213141516 1718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

  • Style: Midnight for Heads Up by momijizuakmori

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 29th, 2025 08:14 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios