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Aug. 15th, 2011 12:00 amI'm doing exciting waiting-for-downloads. A very important part of my work life. It means I get to scatter my mind all over the place and see what it brings home, magpie-like.
Actually, these particular downloads are rather important. I'm waiting for the very last piece of my French research that will mean I can sit comfortably in my big armchair and draft novel. This last thing are my pictures, which need annotating and pondering which means paper (and it also means blowing them up big, which is exciting). Although not the castle.
I have so sorted that mysterious castle. I can show anyone in great detail using the pictures I took. My little camera saw more than my eyes did and all my theories have been reinforced six times over. Why is this so important? Well, it means I don't have to change even a single plotline or add a minor character to deal with that castle. And it's pretty. Also very clever. And the whole supply thing has become moot. Lots of wonderful things make sense and work when you find out what something really, truly looks like.
I've written drafts of nearly two of my articles (on top of the one that went yesterday) but have been too busy pondering the streets of my current favourite town to finish the third. I'm 300 words into the third, though. This means, in an ideal world, I can finish all three tomorrow. Which means I can do my teaching preparation for all three sets of teaching, all at once, like an ordinary human being. And *this* means that there's a possibility of being back to normal (Gillian's normal) by Thursday. I can get back to the dissertation and finish the long list of things I promised people while I was away.
One other thing came up today. Book launches. If anyone would really, really like an invitation to the launch of the cookbook, please let me know soon. I don't know how many invites I'll be allowed to hand out (since the launch is part of Conflux) but if you would like to come, let me know and I'll put you on my list. All Conflux attendees are automatically permitted to come, so if you're coming to Conflux just turn up on the day and give me a hard time.
While I'm being useful, there are still places in my Tuesday class on magic and myths and etc. The one I shall prepare for tomorrow with seriously cool handouts.
If enough people in the class want, I will talk about how the whole witch thing developed and the relationship of the witch craze with learned magic. I had a whole new piece of that puzzle slot into place in Leeds, because of a research project someone else is doing. I also have sorted out more about the relationship of saints and epic legends and national histories, of course, just as a natural side effect of the current research. And I have some nice new pictures of the bones of dead people. I take votes on these things, so if the class would rather Arthur or Robin Hood than the bones of dead people or how heresy trials turned into witch trials, well, I will teach Arthur or Robin Hood. When I teach Robin Hood, though, my class has to sing. Always. It's a rule. It's my way of effectively communicating my favourite pastourelle.
Friends I am meeting for dinner in Sydney, I can teach you the song if you have a particular desire to sing about how Robin loves you. I may quietly edge away form the table, but I am willing to teach you.
And, in other news, I spent an hour this afternoon adding em-dashes to various things. Serves me right for promising to teach Sydneysiders punctuation. Next time I'll teach Sydneysiders how to be rude in Old French. Which is part of what I'm teaching at my Conflux workshop, just in case you were wondering.
Now that I have effectively muddied many waters, I ought to get back and write just a bit more. Every hundred words finished is a movement towards a less bizarre working day. This is my current theory.
Actually, these particular downloads are rather important. I'm waiting for the very last piece of my French research that will mean I can sit comfortably in my big armchair and draft novel. This last thing are my pictures, which need annotating and pondering which means paper (and it also means blowing them up big, which is exciting). Although not the castle.
I have so sorted that mysterious castle. I can show anyone in great detail using the pictures I took. My little camera saw more than my eyes did and all my theories have been reinforced six times over. Why is this so important? Well, it means I don't have to change even a single plotline or add a minor character to deal with that castle. And it's pretty. Also very clever. And the whole supply thing has become moot. Lots of wonderful things make sense and work when you find out what something really, truly looks like.
I've written drafts of nearly two of my articles (on top of the one that went yesterday) but have been too busy pondering the streets of my current favourite town to finish the third. I'm 300 words into the third, though. This means, in an ideal world, I can finish all three tomorrow. Which means I can do my teaching preparation for all three sets of teaching, all at once, like an ordinary human being. And *this* means that there's a possibility of being back to normal (Gillian's normal) by Thursday. I can get back to the dissertation and finish the long list of things I promised people while I was away.
One other thing came up today. Book launches. If anyone would really, really like an invitation to the launch of the cookbook, please let me know soon. I don't know how many invites I'll be allowed to hand out (since the launch is part of Conflux) but if you would like to come, let me know and I'll put you on my list. All Conflux attendees are automatically permitted to come, so if you're coming to Conflux just turn up on the day and give me a hard time.
While I'm being useful, there are still places in my Tuesday class on magic and myths and etc. The one I shall prepare for tomorrow with seriously cool handouts.
If enough people in the class want, I will talk about how the whole witch thing developed and the relationship of the witch craze with learned magic. I had a whole new piece of that puzzle slot into place in Leeds, because of a research project someone else is doing. I also have sorted out more about the relationship of saints and epic legends and national histories, of course, just as a natural side effect of the current research. And I have some nice new pictures of the bones of dead people. I take votes on these things, so if the class would rather Arthur or Robin Hood than the bones of dead people or how heresy trials turned into witch trials, well, I will teach Arthur or Robin Hood. When I teach Robin Hood, though, my class has to sing. Always. It's a rule. It's my way of effectively communicating my favourite pastourelle.
Friends I am meeting for dinner in Sydney, I can teach you the song if you have a particular desire to sing about how Robin loves you. I may quietly edge away form the table, but I am willing to teach you.
And, in other news, I spent an hour this afternoon adding em-dashes to various things. Serves me right for promising to teach Sydneysiders punctuation. Next time I'll teach Sydneysiders how to be rude in Old French. Which is part of what I'm teaching at my Conflux workshop, just in case you were wondering.
Now that I have effectively muddied many waters, I ought to get back and write just a bit more. Every hundred words finished is a movement towards a less bizarre working day. This is my current theory.