(no subject)

This morning I achieved Great Things. I've written the opening to chapter six and work out how to fit the 4,000 words I'd already written with the ten stacks of notes remaining. All that remains is for me to finish the writing, so that the entire chapter is 3,000 words. I can go to 4,000 if I must, but 3,000 words would be ideal.

Donna and I went shopping for clothes for the Aurealis Awards. She has a lovely outfit. I am tossing up going naked; in t-shirt and leggings; or maybe finding something old that works. I put on lost weight with all the crises and new clothes are not a wise option. They would be a wiser option if I were a size 14, but, as I explained to Donna, I haven't been a size 14 since I was twelve. I'm overweight and I have big bones (both - I know - it's pure greed to want big bones and fat together) and I just don't have the money to buy something new and glitzy, especially as the minute I lose the recent weight again (which I must, for health reasons) it will be consigned to the dungeons of unwearability. The clothes I was saving for just such a problem-time were, in fact in the bags of stolen clothes. This doesn't mean I have no options. It just means that the options will come from the depths of my clothes cupboard and I won't be as dressy as others. Since I very seldom *am* as dressy as others* this is not unexpected. And spending time with friends is never time wasted.

The real news, of course, is that the DVD I shall use as background to my writing today is The Bob and Son of Blob. If blobs don't go the distance, I have Invaders from Mars.




*price of shape and health issues - eczema leaves scars, it seems, even when it's been mostly clear for years.

(no subject)

I might have solved my clothes problem. I do, however, need some advice.

What I noticed when we were shopping is that sixties short dress styles are now considered quite smart. Some of these dresses are worn with leggings or pants and some are worn as dresses.

I had entirely forgotten (until I raided the depths of my wardrobe) but I have a black lace dress from my grandmother. It was actually the long dress she wore to my uncle's barmtizvah, but she had it reshaped into a dress in the 1960s. It's purely, purely sixties, because it's a lace dress from the sixties. So - do I wear it with smart black pants (I have a pair) or as a minidress? It will need something under it, because I lack the courage to wear see-through lace sans something under. (I'm assuming that leggings will look very wrong with lace and so am not even considering that option.)

If this doesn't work, I have other options, maybe. But to have something that actually fits current fashion has a kind of absurdity about it that appeals to me.

(no subject)

I was in work avoidance mode. Now I'm in "I'm going to get a bit more done, or else" mode. My next section is on whether we need scholarly apparatus. Or why we need it. Or what on earth novelists are doing when they use scholarly apparatus in fiction. Especially footnotes. I mean, what fiction writer would be daft enough to write a novel with more than ninety footnotes? Except they aren't scholarly apparatus. They just mimic it. And apparently they were murder to typeset and... no more footnotes in novels. I promise. Although I am seriously writing about the relationship of scholarly apparatus to fiction. Not in general, however, and I suspect I shall carefully avoid mentioning footnotes. Just in case someone wants to make a point about what I did with them once. Even though I'm time travelling quite happily without footnotes. Really. It's "Look, no hands" and I'm careering downhill with no brakes.

In other words, I find it rather ironic that I'm writing these particular words. Someone else ought to write them. Someone who has never mocked the apparatus of scholars in their fiction. Someone nicer than me.