(no subject)

I heard from my supervisor today and know what to do next. It's a tricky business, submitting from 3000+ km away.* I'm at the stage where I read his note about formatting and promptly felt a terrible urge to tidy a corner of my desk. My rates are now paid (just in time!) and my mess of paper has migrated from that corner of my desk unto the Secondary Recycling Pile (which gives me a second reason why no-one except me should enter my flat for the next fortnight) and I am out of excuses.

I'm taking the evening off in style (thanks to a wonderfully kind kitzen_kat - I don't often get evenings off and very seldom in style, which is the price of being a middle-aged woman living alone without much money) so I shall finish my PhDness for today by mid afternoon and then accomplish six other things before evening. It's totally amazing what a bit of positive incentive can do!

My positive incentive for the PhD itself is a moneybank which gets emptied and which I can spend on drinks and food at the pub the official day of submission. I live a wild life - yes. The moneybox is Cleopatra the Duck, looking more Jazz-Age than Ancient Egyptian.

And now I know I'm procrastinating. Let us not format tomorrow what we know we can format today!



*my student commute, should I be foolish enough to try it: http://www.travelmath.com/drive-distance/from/Canberra,+Australia/to/Perth,+Australia

On the readability of pages

I'm taking a forced break from Aurealis reading because the print is so small that my eyes were hurting and I need a break. My break consists of a cuppa and some work at the computer.

I don't know why some publishers decide on tiny type, for each cent they save in printing they lose a reader who reads in dim light, or with dim eyes, or with other issues. I was going to read my books in a rational order, but now the rationality consists of one book in reasonable print and one book in far-too-small print, for otherwise I shall never reach the more difficult ones and those novels are worth reading, even if it hurts. The physical pain won't affect my thoughts about the books themselves, but it certainly lessens my opinion of book design at that publishing house.

In this world of ebooks, paper books that are so difficult to access ought to start disappearing. Instead, they're becoming increasingly common. I don't know whether it's to keep the costs down, or whether they're using the same typeset version for both paper and electronic and haven't considered the consequences of the size of the type (although it isn't type anymore, is it, for it's all done electronically? - my descriptions used to be so precise and now they're a bit tangled).

It's arguable, I guess, that YA books have smaller print because YA eyes are better than older eyes. Except they're not always better. My correction was this drastic when I was a teenager: I would have had just as much trouble then as I have now.

For the record, my favourite typefaces for modern printed books are Minion or Garamond, but I'm open to persuasion on that. I'm not open to persuasion concerning the accessibility of books that need a magnifying glass to read.

I still have the magnifying glass (with light!) I bought for examining medieval manuscripts (the curator at Chantilly was so impressed with my earlier version, but this newer one is way superior). I might haul it out and do 50% of my reading with its assistance. It'll be a pain, not not nearly as much of a pain as my eyes if I don't.

(no subject)

I've finished cavorting (alas) and even done a half hour's work. In the meantime, I spent four happy hours with Rachel and Naomi, drinking hot chocolate and discussing writing with Naomi and then with both of them at the G&S production that's touring Australia.

Pirates is usually one of my least-favourite G&S operettas (for Mabel bugs me), but this production redeemed it. The director brought out all the narrative values, made Ruth more rounded (and more scene stealing), unshrilled Mabel, and paid full attention to what Gilbert was doing with the words. This latter is exceptionally important, for it meant that all the modernisation (and modernisation is inevitable in these things) strengthened the narrative and made sense of what characters did at various stages. It wasn't just a set of stage pieces. It was integrated and made emotional sense at every point. I loved it.

The Anthony Warlow version was a lot of fun, but this was better drama in so many ways. Also, the production respected old pronunciation where it was essential to rhyme and reason. The 'orphan' joke wasn't orphaned the way it often is.

Count me very happy - and grateful to friends with good taste. I feel replenished and much more enthusiastic about work. I have missed musical theatre, which used to be a wild addiction of mine, and two performances in a month have gone a long way to making me happy.

Actually, I was missing all theatre. I used to go to a play one week and a concert the next, for student tickets in Melbourne and Sydney were very cheap. Tickets in Canberra are not cheap and transport is an issue and so I've been leaning heavily on DVDs. They aren't the same. The Sergeant doesn't startle audience members by unexpectedly shining torches in their faces in DVDs. You don't hear the audience's silent sorrow as Frederic and Mabel sing their parting duet when you see it on DVD.

And now I can get another hour and a half's work in before bed. This is a good place to be.