(no subject)

I've always been prone to adjectivalise myself. From late primary school I'd look at the other students in despair and know, deep down and utterly miserable, that I was stodgy. All the books I read and all the TV and all the classroom comments and all the teachers' footnotes on behaviour applauded my character as dull but worthy, my looks and presence as fitting someone who was dull but worthy and got good marks and, in short, summarised me as stodgy. My school reports underlined this. All my life expectations were framed around this.

Today I realised that something has gone somewhat wrong in that. My environment might have pigeonholed me, and I might have accepted the adjective and assumed that it was forever part of my life, but gently, life has shifted*.

Today I got to see the final of the book trailer for the Conflux cookbook** and, ten minutes later, I received one of those "we need money" phonecalls from one of my previous universities. I explained why money is a bit of a thing right now and the student caller and I had a huge conversation, covering everything from cooking tips to effects of recessions on academic futures. Plus we argued about the friendliness of passers-by in Toronto. He roped me in (very willingly) to be a mentor in lieu of donating.

I don't know what adjective applies to me, but it's nice to know that the universe that was mine during primary school and early high school didn't produce the right one. I never actually wanted to be stodgy, you see. I was round and out of breath and was such a good little girl and had such big glasses and was of no interest to other kids, so I *was* stodgy. Now I'm not.

In celebration of not being stodgy (though I'm still the right shape for stodgy and still have big glasses and am still stunningly well-behaved) I marinated much feta with some very strange spices. I made myself extra-rich hot chocolate*** and found the three most escapist books from my stack for the rest of the day's reading. That and Norbert Ohler on travelling in the Middle Ages. Also, I shall write some novel. Everything about this is work - except the hot chocolate.

I wonder what the more interesting kids from back then do with their Saturday afternoons?





*note elegant understatement. Applause is really not necessary.

** WATCH THIS SPACE!!!!!!

***to fight the evil wind outside

(no subject)

The universe is not quite behaving today. That's why I've turned to cooking, I suspect. It's just as fast to make something for eating on a day when I have no time to cook than to find a file that's mysteriously absented itself from the three different places it ought to have been. And telling my computer that has caused the file to appear, which just goes to show that it's one of those days.

It's an important file, because it contains a bunch of notes on the relationship between history as an historian sees it and the internalised history a good novelist works with and possible ways of achieving one from the other. The trick is that most writers simply don't see the past in most of the ways historians see the past. When they do, it really shows in their writing. (When they do but haven't internalised it, it also shows in their writing - the most common way it shows is through info-dump.) Sometimes it shows in their writing even when they're not using history - James Enge has some of those characteristics. His writing is a lovely example of how a particular way of thinking can make a world come to life. One day I shall analyse his work into little shreds and demonstrate how his mind works with both his professions to create a very special kind of Enge universe and he shall hate me forever. That's what internalisation is, really - gaining a particular way of thinking.

Also in my once-were-missing notes are reminders that I need to do some reading on what other writers and thinkers have said about the techniques spec fic writers use to persuade readers that this particular novel they are reading is the one they should be referencing, and not some other novel. if anyone has any ideas, I'd be happy to hear them. Today I was thinking that writers of LOTR-derivates of all varieties (epic battle as much as small person in big landscape) especially need to use techniques to remind us that they are themselves and not JRRT. This is maybe where I will look if I need to look somewhere.

I don't know if I do need to look somewhere, yet. I do know that I want to, even if I don't need to for this project. I would love to analyse the way genre writers persuade readers to read their particular work in a particular way. What codes, what techniques are used to encourage readers to believe that this belongs to one part of the genre rather than another? This question came out of the masterclass, but it also came out of seeing what techniques editors and publishers use to persuade the wider public that this is where their work belongs (and how much we should value it). I don't know yet if it relates closely enough to my current work, though. And my mind is going in circles trying to work it out the lazy way. What I shall do in a few minutes is sit down and analyse where it fits into my argument, and then I'll know for certain. The non-lazy-way. Still, it's something I need to understand, for me, as a writer, so I'll be reading up on it and doing an analysis sometime, for someone, since that's how I think most effectively.

I've also been thinking (quite evilly) of scholarly apparatus as an aspect of rhetoric. It's there to convince more often than it's there to present an evidentiary path. This is definitely related to my dissertation. Scholarly apparatus is one of the big dividing lines between history and fiction, after all. (Mind you, having said that , without scholarly apparatus, revisiting the Beast is a real pain - work has to be re-done when there is a query of substance because I can't demonstrate I did it properly the first time - there is a definite value in footnotes and sourcing.)

All this and more is in my day (along with the reading, which is moving along nicely) largely because next weekend I have to revisit the whole Medieval Masculinities area of my dissertation and novel and prepare my presentation for the seminar at Monash. I'm somewhat behind because of the cookbook, but if I actually sit and do steady work, I'll catch up. If my files decide to allow themselves to be found, that is.

(no subject)

I promised several people information on the Conflux workshops when it came out. You can find out more information here.

UPDATE: Workshops now open for booking. If the form isn't on the Conflux website, it will be very, very shortly. I want to say in a darkly looming voice "Conflux is coming" - Winter is, I think, still here, after all, and so that needs not be said.

The trailer!!!!!

The Conflux cookbook trailer: the work of the most wonderful Nicole Murphy. The first person (other than myself, any of the Conflux chairs, or Cat Sparks) to correctly identify all the people in all the photographs will win an oversized postcard* with a recipe from the cookbook. (one postcard for LJ and one for FB - the card can travel anywhere Australia Post delivers)

*Barb, this is your chance to get one, since I decided against a reprint. These are nearly the last of them.