(no subject)

It's Sunday morning and I've been sorting papers. This is because I did actually get eight books in a state where they could be put away.

The sudden loss of eight books from my desk area meant that a tussle of papers revealed itself. I've now sorted those papers. Some were blank. Some were finished with. A few need to be checked against various things. One, however, says, "Retrofit scribble loneliness." This was a mystery to me at first, but it's from the book-in-a-day. I don't remember if the others retrofitted Scribble's loneliness or not, but the paper can go into the recycling.

My recycling will soon need a room of its own. Last time I put it out, I re-damaged my finger, so this time I'm letting it grow into something Blobbish.

I think the rule of this virus is to sleep whenever one can, for when one actually wakes up for an hour, stuff can be achieved. I'll be happy when it's gone, however. I'm tired of being tired, but even more tired of the breathing being shaky.

Today's achievements will include the last checks for that second bibliography, so it can wend its way to the next stage. I shall also put more books away, which means, of course, reading more books. And I can work on getting well.

(no subject)

I'm done with bibliographies for days. Days, I tell you! I might have small lists of books during those days, but nothing longer than a half page and nothing quite as complex. Also, nothing that will have such ramifications if I muck it up.

This afternoon is going to be either dedicated to BiblioBuffet or lost in the land of the DVD. I'm assuming I shall stay awake the whole afternoon and that the virus is in abeyance, for I am a worker of miracles today, having finally done all the impossible bits of the most annoying bibliography this year*.

Anyhow, my brain is returning to its usual state and I shall soon be much less boring as a result.

All my Canberra friends have socialised without me this weekend. I guess it's just as well, but if any of them** complain that I never have a social life, ask me when we last went to movies together***.

I'm adding a line, just because****




* My biggest problem of the moment is that I think it's too short: no doubt I will hear back if it is and face it all again.

** Of whom some are you and reading this

***I would very much like to go to a movie today, but can't, or on Tuesday, which might be possible. It is a very, very long time since I've done anything as radical as see a new movie. Mind you, it's even longer since I've gone to a concert, because they're at night and not easily accessible by public transport in Canberra, which makes them almost impossible for me. One day, my concert-going habits will return.

****The 'because' is quite simply that I have the perfect opportunity to write a post where the footnotes are longer and contain more content than the post itself. All I needed was one more footnote and to adjust the space a little. If I could do things like this in dissertations, the bibliography wouldn't be nearly as much of a pain. In fact, it would be rather fun, for I could use Comic Sans 13 point and annoy people. Right now it's Times New Roman 12 point and sadly serious.*****

*****I think quite a few people will be relieved when I'm writing fiction again.

(no subject)

I have to wonder why "high concept" is sometimes used as a term for "Far too little integration of ideas into narrative." I have a book with too many ideas and not enough understanding. The big stuff is well delineated. The book is dull.

I kinda expect the info dumping for a certain kind of historical fiction (not the kind I read or recommend, let me add, explanatorily), because the writer tries to inform me from the word go and really, if I want to be informed, I'll go elsewhere. I give the writer a hundred pages to demonstrate they can tell a story and, if they don't succeed, then I find something else to read. It's not as if I have too few books to choose from, after all.

That's what I'm doing with this book, but it's really become difficult. Each time an info-dumping sequence stops, I heave a sigh of relief and say "Now we have the understanding, the story can start properly." But no, there is a new scene and a slightly different method, but a whole new sequence of infodumping. So far, only one character is halfway to human, and he is the kind of person who bores me to mischief at dinner parties.

So this is not my dream book. It does remind me, however, that I promised quite a few people that I would write up what I have spent the last few years sorting while I wrote that dissertation. That whole acquiring-knowledge-and-transmuting-it-into-understanding-and-then-into-respectable-narrative thing. Just facing this almost-novel that I can't review, I can see why my students and ex-students are interested in seeing my approach in print. We'll see.

(no subject)

I think I may finally be leaving the eight week virus behind. My signal is neither being any more awake or less in pain: it is, in fact, that I feel miserable. I have no reason to feel miserable, given that I'm on target for completing my PhD on the right date and am financial right until that date and have met all my deadlines despite this virus. This means that the slough of despond must be signalling the virus nearly being over.

Another reason for it being the end of virus is that I have chocolate and am not tempted to have even a nibble. It's nice chocolate - it ought to tempt me. Nothing does, however.

I have to admit, it would be rather nice to be able to be out of bed a whole day and to not fall over my own feet after a mere two hours of teaching. The week with the migraine as well as the virus as well as new classes was a bit interesting, looking back. I don't know how my students dealt with me, but they were gentle.

I was going to have a cuppa, but I shall have an early night instead. I've slept so much recently that I ought to have a wakefulness deficit. Apparently not yet.

If I have extra energy tomorrow (and I live in hopes) I shall go to a movie when I'm out doing my essential messages. I don't know where all these messages come from, but every three days there's a host of things that need doing. The movie I want to see is The Sapphires. That'll help me get through the slough stage. It might even help me find my mysteriously absent proficiency in the English language.