(no subject)

I was writing an email the other day and I read back what I wrote. I was talking about exploring a particular boundary within a specific aspect of culture. I realised that boundaries of this sort are a bit of an obsession of mine: where does history shade to fiction, where does genre shift to other genre, what happens when cultures shift their boundaries or humans are pushed beyond their comfort zones. Some of it is intellectual, some emotional, some cultural, some have elements of any or all three, but it's always boundaries.

My question-to-self of the day is "Why?" Why do I need to question and why am I so very conservative in my observation of cultural boundaries outside this questioning?

I think that's a sign I need to take a break from proofreading and formatting and forms and checking and quadruple checking and actually do something with a strong intellectual component for an hour. I can still get the next document to Perth at a reasonable hour of the day, for Perth is not in my time zone.

I do love working across time zones. I love the extra time it gives me while someone else is having breakfast, or the extra hours it puts in the day because two people can work on tasks sequentially. I shall take advantage of it now, then, and pull together some stuff that's needed pulling together for a while.


PS It looks as if I have a chapter in a book, out next northern Spring. It's up to being copy-edited. This is what I was reading all Margo's books for, way back earlier in the year. I'm edging closer and closer to doing what I want and need to do with my life. The tricky bit now is finding a job.

(no subject)

I just got a lovely parcel of books. Seven, in fact, all young adult. My Aurealis reading is picking up! I might have to actually make a start on it next week. Right now, though, I am in booklust mode. It's wrong to lust after books when they're mine, isn't it? I should get a move on with all my piles and get to the stage where I'm not merely fondling the nicer covers of the way past (I am a book libertine, I fear). If I work extra, extra hard, maybe I could be done around the weekend?

This calls for a cuppa. I need fortification before I embark upon this attack on my piles of paper.

(no subject)

I have had an extraordinarily strange day. I've been to a book launch with much poetry read, and I've had dinner with friends (Happy Birthday, Elizabeth - for last week!) and I've met several neighbours over a local drama of which I will tell you more when I know more and I've demolished many and many of those papers.

The big thing I did was admit that I will be submitting in just over two weeks. Anyone who wants to join me for a drink or dinner (or both) to toast having sent the PhD off for examination (here it all gets examined by mail, because of distance) will find me at King O'Malley's on 26 October, from 5 pm. We have the room behind the bar for as long as we want it. The manager was delighted to hear what it was for, as he has recently submitted *his* thesis. He shook my hands and was delighted in advance and we are all written in.

If interstate friends want to come and share the vast relief of it all, I have limited space available - first come first served.

I'll repeat the invitation closer to the event. All my friends and supporters are welcome (for it is not catered, nor is it for a fixed number of people) so please think of dropping in.