July 26th, 2016

(no subject)

I'm still catching up with things from March. I have just one or two urgent things to go and they get harder and harder as time passes. It also gets harder to do the straightforward paperwork, because I've got this sense of never being quite caught up. There's one particular article that's causing me too many problems, but until it's done, I can't turn to the others (the stuff that was beginning to be due around August).

I'm doing some rethinking, along with the catching up. The seventeenth century novel has to wait. It's high intensity in terms of work and I can't do it yet. It's that simple. If I wrote it now, I'd write it badly. Next year or the year after I'll be able to write a good novel on that theme, for all the different parts of my brain will be able to work together. This means that my writing is turning to another contemporary novel. I had two begun (barely) and have decided to focus on the gendered one, for I really need to sort out those issues. Also, this is the perfect year for writing in the voice of an angry alien who is frustrated by the limitations of human bodies and human lives. (Most of the novel won't be in that voice - just enough to annoy people.) I'm nearly 5,000 words in and will take a break at 15,000 for that will be most of that voice. This is the novel that was speaking to me the night before surgery. I was supposed to be launching my Wizardry novel (news of which is definitely forthcoming soon) and instead I was listening to an old woman dying and was being shaved in interesting places. I wasn't allowed to wear off my nerves by walking, for I was hooked up to various things and besides, the hospital was worried about me and didn't want me to go away even for a second, so I lay there, looking up at the television (this was the only ward I had a television), listening to my neighbour try valiantly to hang on, being interrupted by various preparations, realising that some of the weirdness was PMT and that the hallucinations were from medication and wondering just how strange life can become. At that moment this novel (which was had already taken some shape in the weeks before) announced a bunch of things to me. These are the things I'm dealing with now. The rest of the novel isn't even a small part of the way there, because I was focussing on the other novel. Life does this.

I think this novel might contain a deal of bleakness. This is why I have to write it. being grateful to be alive and able to live life fully is one thing, but the path I took to get here is also a bit of who I am.

It's not just my papers I'm catching up with.

(no subject)

A telephisher rang me when I was working and thus got me in teacher mode.

"I'm ringing concerning an accident."

"What organisation are you ringing from? Can you tell me more?"

I'm ringing from Common Law Firm in Sydney. I am ringing concerning an accident you had in the last two years."

"Can you tell me more? Who are you ringing?"

"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."

"Are you sure you have the right person?"

"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."

"Yes, but I'm Dr Polack, not Mrs Polack. I haven't had an accident in the last two years. Maybe you have the wrong number. What kind of accident are you referring to?"

"A car accident."

"Now I know you have the wrong person. I'm not Mrs Polack and I do not own a car. I'm very sorry."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time." And she politely hung up.

Now, what was I in the middle of before I was interrupted? And have I ever said how handy a PhD can be when one doesn't want to get into arguments about marital status and common courtesies? Also when one wants to be certain the call is not genuine. For it could be. I do not know why it's harder to lie to Dr Polack than to Mrs Polack, but for some reason scammers find it so.

I do wonder, however, what I would have said if I'd been in writing mode, especially since I'm working on a very grumpy alien character right now. All suggestions for how the dialogue might have occurred will be accepted, though some may be accepted with less grace than others.