Alisa Krasnostein is World Fantasy Award winning editor and publisher at Twelfth Planet Press and part of the Galactic Suburbia Podcast Team. She was Executive Editor of the review website Aussie Specfic in Focus!.
Currently working on a PhD in Publishing, in her spare time she is a critic, reader, reviewer, runner, environmentalist, knitter, quilter and puppy lover. She is a fulltime Mum.
Today I drove up to Karrakata for the stonelaying consecration of a dear friend. In Judaism, we bury our dead as soon as is possible but we don’t lay the headstone for a year. Karin was my mum’s closest friend but I knew her very well too and considered her a dear friend too. As I drove up, I couldn’t believe it’s really been a whole year that she’s been gone and I mulled over the idea of someone leaving a hole in the world. She’s gone and the world will never be the same without her and we miss her. But I am so very glad I got to know her and that she was here at all.
I didn’t get to go to her funeral because I was in the US. But I’ve had occasion in the past year to be in her space – in the community of people she left behind. I stood there today as we gathered around her grave to say prayers and I looked around at the people who had amassed. Most people are lucky to have family come and some friends. There were a lot of people there today and looking around, I was struck by how varied they were – younger and older, Jewish and not Jewish, professional and personal friends. In this past year I’ve been to a few occasions were her friends gathered and I’ve been introduced to many of them. She was the sort of person who was always busy but always available and there when you needed her. In exchanging notes on how we each knew her, we’ve discovered just how many people she was so close to. It’s been such a pleasure to meet all these people – so varied and interesting and so gentle and compassionate. I can see why she was such good friends with them, and we have all been brought together to share our loss. I recognised many today and was able to embrace a few and share a moment of missing her with them. But more than that, I think meeting all these people and getting to know them, reflects so much about who she was. And as I stood there, I thought about how we are the community that she brought together around her. We stood as the people left behind.
The Rabbi gave a really lovely speech – it’s not usual to have a eulogy at a consecration. Usually he might say a few words after the prayers and before he reads out the inscription on the headstone. But Karin was not someone you could go without saying at least something. And I think what he said was so truly appropriate for the moment and for her. He said “what a full and worthwhile life this was” which kinda started my tears and then he said, “no words can fully describe the impact she had in her work, in the community and in her personal life.” And he talked of all the people she had touched and cared about and fought for. It was a nice speech and even he had a cry at the end. He said that Karin, in Hebrew, translates to rays of light and that as we had all been touched by her, we should remember her and take her inspiration and make the light brighter. He said it more poetically – he’s the Rabbi so he said it better, that’s his job.
There is so much about the way Karin lived her life and the way she carried herself in this world to learn from. And I will always carry her as an example as I go forward. She was brilliant, fearless, right, capable of anything, loving, a listener, a leader, a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister and a friend. And if she was in your corner, you knew everything would be all right. She was the ultimate Super Woman, all the way to the end. And she was taken from us far too soon.
Wow, has it really been almost a week between blog posts? I’ve been wanting to blog all week but the funniest thing has been going on – I’ve been falling asleep before getting round to it. By 10/10.30 pm. Like I said, the funniest thing.
So maybe just the highlights:
I have now been caffeine free (apart from chocolate) for about a month. And oddly, loving it. It’s far enough away now to remember that I love coffee but to not quite remember just what that means. I feel great. I sleep a good 8 hours, except when I’m eating into that by reading a chapter or two before sleeping, and I feel refreshed in the morning. That thing people talk about? Rest. Refreshed. Raring to go? That’s me now! I actually get up at 6am and whilst not bouncing out of bed like C, I don’t really have to drag myself. And I’m three weeks now having started work at 7.30am. It’s pretty good.
I seem to have less time. And that might be an illusion but it feels like I need to triage my day when I get home. I have enough time to do housework or TPP before dinner but I still have energy to be able to throw at it at that hour. And then after dinner I have maybe an hour to watch TV and sew and/or an hour or so to read, catch up on the internet and so on. And then it’s bed. I’m sleeping more, so I have less time. But I feel better and I’m hoping that means I will work more efficiently (and get sick/burnout less).
I’m actually reading. For fun. One day a week at work I manage to read during lunch. And I’m reading for about an hour before bed – a lot of that is internet catching up but I am reading. I finished one book and I’m about a third of the way through another. And it feels good. I’m actually reading! And getting through a to read pile (my bedside table one) and putting books away and relaxing before sleeping.
I’m watching less TV. And I’m not missing it. I almost watch no free to air now. And then I watch a season or something of whatever I’m watching on the weekend.
I think I might be finding some kind of zen balance here.
Yet I’m still waiting for a phonecall. Maybe it will come next week. Waiting is such torture.
This year has been one helluva crazy ride. One of the things I’ve been deconstructing is the idea of what I actually like/want versus what I think I should like/want/be. It’s very irritating to realise how much I hold onto as ideas of who I think I should be but actually am totally not. I think what kickstarted the thought process was one night when I was screwing my face up whilst eating some dip that I thought was disgusting. C said to me “You don’t like it.” And I replied, “But I really want to like it” and continued to try it and he sorta yelled “But you don’t LIKE IT!” (in the way that he doesn’t actually yell.) Anyway so after that I’ve started looking at things and asking myself if I like it/want it/enjoy it or is it just something that I think is part of some me that I would like to be. Rather than am. I guess in a way it’s a process of accepting myself as I am and giving away an idea that I can change/mould myself to be something else. Cause… what’s wrong with the me I am, anyway? Like, in all the bridal magazines, the Maldives seem like where you should go for your honeymoon. I’m like looking at the picture, all that blue blue ocean, all those restful huts overlooking stunning vistas. And I’m like, that looks so dreamy and relaxing. And then I read the article to see what the people in the pictures had done on their honeymoon and I’m like, “I would *hate* that”. We’re gonna do something else. I still kinda want to be the person who would enjoy that and one day I want to see that. But you know, that’s not really me. And that’s ok. Cause then when C suggested where he thought we should go it was like a hell yes destination.
C is always teasing me because I never stop and enjoy the things that I *do* achieve in a day.
Today, we went with my parents to wedding venue choice number 1 to take a tour and try the food. Etc. We loved it. And we pencilled our names in for a date – the date that we could get. Which was a coupla months further out than we’d thought. Which means that I get extra time. For things. And stuff. And we all loved it, which is great. I wasn’t sure about the date but we popped in to see C’s parents afterwards and they were very happy with it too.
And so … we’re getting married.
Yes, yes, I know we all already knew that but … I was referred to as The Bride. I might have quietly hyperventilated about that – the reference to moments like “Announce the bride” and “We will hide you here and then present etc” – what? everyone is going to be looking at me! Anyway. It feels a lot more real now that we have a date. And my parents were there and we discussed details and and and holy crap! We’re getting married.
When I blogged a few months ago about things suddenly getting very real? This was one of them.
And I booked in for my first facial. Did you know you need to start your moisturising routine a year out from your wedding? You know, to look your best. It’s fascinating the way this industry fuels it’s own demand. All you have to do is tell a bride she needs to have been doing X by yesterday or of course she needs Y and if you haven’t had enough sleep, the crazy starts to sound like sense. And I wouldn’t have bought into the whole facial thing if my workmate who is getting married not long after me, started booking herself in for 6 weekly facials, and she is like, doing nothing at all that’s wedding train. I started to panic – do *I* need to be doing that? Don’t *I* want to look the best that I can look on the day? Meh.
Weirdfictionreview.com is a website devoted to The Weird and created by Luis Rodrigues. The project is the brainchild of editing-writing team Ann & Jeff VanderMeer. With regular and weird updates throughout the week, it’s well worth adding to your RSS feed.
CAL’s Creative Industries Fund – Applicants can apply for grants of up to $5,000 to undertake training, travel or other activities that will enhance their careers. The application deadline for the next round of funding is 5.00 pm Friday 20 January 2012. Why not apply for travel to Adelaide Writers Festival or Continuum for Natcon?
Today I’m planning on finishing Kim Westwood’s The Courier’s New Bicycle so I can talk about it on Galactic Suburbia this week.
I’m loving this book so much – it seems I’ve been starving for excellent Australian science fiction and this book is just absolutely satisfying the craving. I know I’m going to be sorry when it finishes – I’ve been carrying it around with me everywhere to grab a quick chapter whenever I have a moment. I can’t even remember the last novel I did that with.
Here’s a sneak para I just read:
… you soon come to realise that every culture has its own version of untouchable.”
She looks away, suddenly embarrassed, and belatedly I realise she’s referring to people like me. Braheem shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
I think back to my teens and early adulthood, and all the confusion I’d felt over who I was. Those who present as androgynously as I do are a walking, talking question mark for the community to feel confused about. Some even seem to think we’ve been designed deliberately to mock them.
This book is so so good! It’s a brilliant dystopian Melbourne after a hideously gone wrong vaccine program to combat a bird flu pandemic. I know Tansy already mentioned on GS how uncomfortable she is with that in relation to the current day issue of misinformation and hysteria over vaccinating children etc. But I am reminded of the stockpiling that happened in Australia of Tamiflu for the supposed impending of bird flu outbreak here several years ago – and questions over whether Tamiflu would work, if people were administering it to colds and not even flu and if in fact the stockpiling would result in tonnes of out of date product etc.
In Westwood’s post apocalypse, of sorts, Australians have lost their virility. And the religious zealot right wing has come into power to police how people live and think. Scientific engineering of nature is outlawed and there is a crack down on “perversion” ie not conforming to the gender norms.
This book is a gorgeous melding of the exploration of potential impacts of engineering nature, political reactionism and gender identity and acceptance (or lack of) in society. Whilst grim in content, this book is exquisitely written and uplifting to read gritty, in depth examination of current day issues. You know, what science fiction is supposed to be.
This guy is pretty upset, I think. I tried to read the whole post but its loooong and it goes off on tangents and really, doesn’t really get much to the point. He was paid an advance of $65 000, six weeks after he signed his contract with S&S and apparently that’s not immediate enough for him – pretty standard turnaround where I work when you come on as a brand new employee but whatev. And he’s upset, I think because:
Your designer (who is good – I bet he’d have done good work if he ever saw my design brief) is not the problem.
No wait the designer is not the problem. Wait for it, cause publishers love to be told this one:
Okay, whatever. At least you spent some time implementing the three hour long design brief I wrote for the cover, giving specific recommendations and historical comps?
Alas, no. When I got the cover, they totally ignored everything about my audience, my goals, my notes I gave you guys, and whatever else. I re-wrote notes, and they were ignored. So much for “meaningful consultation”!
I’d list more, but it’s all the same sort of thing. Suffice to say, I kept coming with ideas that might or might not work, and getting back nothing or less than nothing in return.
So this dude is a debut author. And so of course, like many people who do things for the very first time, he knows everything about the industry. He knows what sells, he knows how to sell it, he knows how to run this business that he’s … oh, no, wait, that’s right. He’s never actually sold a book before.
But why I’m blogging this is not for the above or the other bunch of verbose ranting which you may or may not feel like ploughing through (oh my gosh does he not sell himself as a writer in that post! Or um, you know, someone I’d want to work with …) it’s for the UNNECESSARY use of the word “bitch” throughout it. You know, I get that he’s upset. I get that he feels like he needs to vent. I get he might feel like his back is up against the wall. But OMG! He feels like he’s being “treated like a bitch” and that that, THAT is the worst thing that could ever happen to him.
And this, just a few weeks after the mencallmethings campaign on Twitter.
No craft photo for yesterday. I did things like final dentist appointment for the year (hooray! – dentist asked me what award I won and then I think he tried to pitched me a novel!) and check my post box, visit my parents and then do a bit of work before reading before bed.
However, in the last couple of days, Amanda finished up this beautiful book and sent it the printers:
I’m very proud of this, the fourth volume in the Twelve Planets series. It’s Deborah Biancotti taking the next step on from A Book of Endings. And it’s so exciting to be able to watch a writer grow and evolve and move. Bad Power is five (she cheated a bit there but you’ll see why I let that extra story slide, you WANT it in there, I promise!) interwoven stories, five different perspectives, five different superpowers that aren’t all that awesome, really.
Here’s the back cover blurb. In the next couple of days I’ll post bits Deborah wrote for promo on each of the stories.
Hate superheroes?
Yeah. They probably hate you, too.
‘There are two kinds of people with lawyers on
tap, Mr Grey. The powerful and the corrupt.’
‘Thank you.’
‘For implying you’re powerful?’
‘For imagining those are two different groups.’
From Crawford Award nominee Deborah Biancotti
comes this sinister short story suite, a pocketbook
police procedural, set in a world where the victories are
only relative, and the defeats are absolute. Bad Power
celebrates the worst kind of powers both supernatural
and otherwise, in the interlinked tales of five people —
and how far they’ll go.
If you like Haven and Heroes, you’ll love Bad Power.
•
‘These appetisingly wicked stories give you
the perfect taste of Biancotti’s talents.’
– Ann VanderMeer
Gwyneth Jones on the Twelve Planets series:
‘These Australians give me hope for the future
of female, and even feminist, writers in sf.’
Craft table at work! Today I mostly cut out more pieces for this project. I pinned a few and sewed maybe two seams. But for the rest of the week I’ll be able to piece and sew to my heart’s content. I love this fabric and am having a lot of fun working with it.
I’m starting to think that I might not be good at the happy medium thing. I’ve been grizzling a lot to C and he keeps pointing out that I tend to focus on the negative – on what I haven’t achieved or what I am not spending time on rather than on what I have done. He has a point.
And I realised today a few things. My asthma is finally starting to come under control but I am now starting to lose my voice. And I hear myself telling people that I am really burnt out and had a really full on year so this kind of thing is to be expected (it’s by business model, as Tansy would say – work really hard, push myself beyond that, finish, then hit wall, collapse and get sick). And this year has been jam packed full. I can hardly believe what I have accomplished this year. And maybe, just maybe, the right thing to do is, for once, to be kind to myself. So yes, whilst I have given up 2.5 hours per day from non-day job activities, I am sleeping 2 hours more!! per night and I am taking lunch. And both are translating to a lower stress load and resulting in me feeling *really* good physically. I’ve hit that positive feedback loop thing where you feel good so you make better choices – like eating fresher food, drinking water, contemplating exercise – to continue to feel better. And I’ve started caring more about dressing for work, wearing accessories and so on, because I feel better about myself. And they say that people who sleep less, weigh more. I’ll keep you posted on that front.
And of course, the theory goes that you do better and more efficient work when you feel better and are less stressed. Being someone who performs well under pressure, I dunno about that one. Of course I still have several more deadlines to reach by the end of the year and have reduced the time available to work on them so maybe the pressure is still on.
But the other thing I’m always complaining about – working so much on TPP that I don’t have time to read or craft. Tonight I spent maybe two hours sewing (minus cooking for dinner and some admin stuff). And then I’m going to read for an hour, maybe, before bed. So that would mean that today I did day job, TPP admin, TPP editing, crafting and reading as well as some housework. That’s actually a better scenario – and one I’ve been trying to work towards for a long time. I am such a whinger!
At the recent World Fantasy Convention in San Diego, we sat down with Alan Beatts from San Francisco’s Borderlands Books to discuss his article Amazon is Nobody’s Friend. What followed was a fascinating and disturbing conversation about the future of books and bookstores, and the value of every reader’s vote.
We’d like to thank Alan, and hope you enjoy the podcast. We also promise to try to get a little closer to a regular schedule, now we’re both back from the US (where Alisa won a World Fantasy Award!).
Following on from the last post, here is my photo from today. I did get a couple of pieces cut out ready for sewing. And stitched about two seams and did some pinning. I would love to do more tonight but my eyelids are getting very heavy.
I’m deep into the wedding research, or I should say deep into the flailing about trying to figure out what’s important and what I want. And balancing that against what I can have. The way C deals with living with this is one of the reasons I’m marrying him. He has downloaded two wedding planning apps now. The first was free and gave a “comprehensively detailed list” of everything that needs to be done. The second he came across through research as the best reviewed and he liked that one because it enabled the user to be the groom (rather than the bride) and for the groom to have a groom. I’m a pencil and paper person myself. Still, the other day he says to me: “We’ll work through the list, and colour all the boxes, you’ll use a colour that’s different to everyone else in the world, because you’re you, and we’ll have a wedding. Oh and you have to start your moisturising routine, now!”
And that is why I am marrying him.
Still, I always knew those mags were rage inducing and that’s why I’d never read a bridal magazine before. And now I am trying to read them with a sense of irony or at least to get some ideas or jog some and because there are some good snippets of information. And that’s fine as long as I can hold strong against the industry brainwashing for wanting all kinds of things that are totally over the top. But every now and then, they catch you in a weak moment and you can’t set apart the sensible from the ridiculous.
You know, I really do love this early morning start thing. For a bunch of extra reasons that I didn’t mention in yesterday’s post – I can take my full lunch half hour now instead of needing it to make up time. I don’t get the mid afternoon slump. I get a chance to do a few things in the morning before my phone starts ringing etc. (Half my team starts at 7.30 so it’s not silent but it is peaceful). I can order my lunch early and have best pick of the muffins. And I really do feel better, within myself. I’m sleeping more. I’m eating less junk food at night. And I’m making the small random changes I want to make, because I feel like I can. Like … finally taking my mug down to the canteen instead of getting a takeaway cup. The kind of stuff you worry about later when you have less “concerns”.
But.
And there is always a but.
My answer when people ask me how I juggle so much stuff? Yeah, it used to be “I sleep less.” And now I am sleeping up to two hours more a day. I kinda needed that time to get stuff done. I’m really starting to feel it – the less time in the evening after work to do both sewing and also editing etc. It’s a struggle. Yes, I had an hour massage (crick in the neck came back whilst travelling) today and I am probably blowing it out of proportion. But still. I will say that sticking to this routine over the weekend meant we’d accomplishing A LOT by lunchtime each day. And it might be that I just need to be stricter about TPP working hours on the weekend from now on. Something tells me that feeling better physically *should* eventually translate to better quality, more efficient work. Right? Right?
ETA: I remembered too that I am now reading for an hour before bed. I used to work right up until falling asleep, whilst watching TV. Now I am getting much wanted reading done – yay – at the expense of work – not yay and much less television watching – both yay and not yay.
I promised Deb that I would think about taking all of December off from Twelfth Planet Press. I still have a lot to get done before January and that idea is looking less likely. But, I am intending to have off the leave days I take from work as complete days off and am already planning the TV I’m gonna watch and the crafting I’m gonna finish whilst watching it. But I miss crafting – I’ve barely had time for it the last two months or so. So I’m going to try and post a pic every day of something that I’ve done that day – it might not be anything special, it might be cutting out pieces to be sewn another day but every journey begins with the first step, right?
Today’s photo is the first block for some Xmas presents. I’m feeling very in the kitschy Xmas mood this year. And this material is just perfect. I just cut out a bunch more and the material (assorted trees and reindeer and baubles) makes me smile.
In other news, I can report I managed a 7.30am start at work every day this week. I loved it so much I made C set the alarm over the weekend to make sure that I didn’t fall out of the routine. I’m so terrified this is all just jetlag and that I’ll flip back to my old ways. Thing is, I’ve been doing a few other things that are uncharacteristic for me too, which has people around me feeling discombobulated.
I’ve given up coffee. And don’t even miss it. Ok maybe I miss it a bit but I’ve also been falling asleep between 9pm and 10pm and am wondering if that’s as a result of giving up the caffeine. Plus my guts are still not up to coffee again. A friend at work freaked out when I made a herbal tea in the afternoon. She was like, “I’ve never seen you drink tea before!” – we’ve worked together for about 4 years now. And I actually *do* like tea. I just, I fall into routines and I don’t come out of them, I guess.
I feel better. Like a lot better. I like the getting a jump start on the day. I like getting to go home by 3.30 – no mid afternoon slump. I feel like I’m sleeping better and I’m getting 8 hours a night now. I’m eating better. And I feel more cheerful. I think I worked better at my day job last week than I have in a while (though have also had a bit of a break, with the US trip). I like the new routine. And trust me, I never ever thought I would say that. I’ve not been a morning person for at least the last twenty years.
From my con bag I kept The Last Unicorn by Peter Beagle and Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey. The top four books are from Charles Tan and are Philippine SF for me to bring home. I did some secondhand bookshopping with S, D and V and walked away with the Agatha Christie and the Andre Nortons. And the rest, I’m afraid, was dealer room shopping. I love the kind of bookshopping you do with friends. I’d told Jonathan and Ellen that I’m looking for old books written by women (the few I bought are the ones wrapped in plastic) and they both kept popping out at me from behind bookstacks to read me out crazy blurbs or first pages. And then when Ellen had been unsuccessful at nabbing Jonathan a copy of Delia’s book because they were quickly sold out at her book launch, we rushed off to the dealer’s room where rumour had it there were a few left. So I joined in and bought a copy too and then as the three of us were heading out of the centre in search of the bar or something, we bumped straight into Delia so we all promptly thrust our copies at her for signing. Much fun.
And then, *even though* I am starting to stress about things like “how will we afford children?” and “what if this is my very last year of fulltime paid work (and can no longer impulse buy yarn/fabric/books on the internet)?” I seem to be dealing with that by doing things like this, the books I have acquired *since* coming home from WFC:
And my to read bookcase, before the addition of the above:
And the worst of it? Those are all OLD books. The 2012 publishing year has already begun and I can be sure that on the next episode of Galactic Suburbia, Tansy is going to tell me about a bunch of books I should have read.
I *was* happy to leave work at 3.30 home time but the traffic was horrendous. It was my worst run home for the week, taking me an hour and a half office carpark to home.
So you can imagine the kind of mood I was in as I drove down Warnbro Sound Avenue very nearly finally home, when a young teenager (maybe 15?) standing at a bus stop, pulled his schmekel out of his pants and waved it in my direction as a passed him. It not being the first time that’s ever happened to me, I basically just gave a shake of my head that I hope indicated “nothing impressive” or “no thanks, need more than that to impress.”
And yeah whatever, as I said, not the first time in my life that’s happened and being a woman, and having been a woman in engineering school, you have to develop a way of dealing with that kind of stuff. Young boys like to shock and they like to make you uncomfortable, they’re looking for a reaction. So the only way to respond is to not respond. Or to be unimpressed or unsurprised. Look, he might have had something to wave about, but really if he needed to pull it out and show me unasked, well … that’s probably *all* he has to work with, if you know what I mean.
The funny thing is, I had been thinking about a post I wanted to make whilst driving home before that. It was going to be titled, “White Male Privilege”, and was going to tell this story:
All week, Triple J have been playing soundbytes from a Hack episode that must have discussed two sides of whether men are cool with dating ambitious, intelligent women. And one of the grabs is a guy who says of the equal opportunity initiatives in the workplace: “I think equality says more about the lack of skills inabilities in women in the workplace.” It wasn’t til this morning that I actually listened to it properly and got a really good laugh on my commute in to work.
Aside from the fact that he inadvertently, and through his own clumsy English, basically argued the feminist line, I’m blown away by the white male privilege of this guy who genuinely believes that he would be better at my job than I would be, simply because he was born with a penis. Which he also beautifully demonstrates to be false, given both my day job and my small business both heavily rely on a fluency and in depth understanding of the English language. And more importantly, I did not graduate at the bottom of my class in Engineering. And those I graduated ahead of where both men and women.
So, you could say that both my start and end of the day were bookended with penises being thrust in my face. The second was of course, mostly harmless. But still, I was forced to look at some guys genitals in the middle of my day. And … you know. Why? Why should I have to, just because I’m female? Why should I not be able to choose when my day becomes sexual and be able to choose when it is not.
There’s no use fighting it, my wedding train has left the station.
I realised this on the weekend when I looked up at C after I’d had a deep conversation with my mother on the phone about main course options and I discovered I had strong feelings against one, and C looked back and said, “That took two weeks.”
As soon as you tell people you’re getting married, and we told our parents literally 5 minutes after I said yes, everyone thinks you should know the date and the theme and who you’re inviting and what you want. I’ve found it really overwhelming. And I realised the other day why.
A year, or a bit more than a year, before I met C (and we were friends for a solid year before we starting dating), I finally realised that it was very possible that I might never meet my special someone, and I might not get married and have children and in fact that I might live as a single person for the rest of my life. I must have been about 32 at the time. Sure, it’s nice to look back at Past!Me and know she was wrong, but it was a really important moment in my life that I don’t regret. Because I seriously confronted myself with that possibility and I made myself think through what that actually meant. I made a list of the dreams that 6 year old me had made and that I might possibly never realise (I already have not delivered on the awesome scientist who heads up her own company making cool sciencey/medical things). And I then spent a year doing two very important things. 1) I grieved for the Jewish wedding I’d never have and the family I would not create and the life that would all become. 2) I asked myself if I could be happy on my own for the rest of my life, and then I worked on myself til the answer was yes. And I really did mourn for Life Path A and became happy to be the person with Live Path B. By the end of that year, whilst I’d been sad about giving up A, I had mourned honestly so that the sadness was behind me and I was genuinely happy with the possibilities that B had to offer.
But what that means now is, I genuinely threw out any emotional attachment, ideas, wishes, preferences or thoughts about a wedding of my own, cause I had begun to think that was just one thing I was never meant to have. And now, I genuinely have no thoughts whenever someone asks me about theme, ring, food, music whatever. And I’m beginning to wonder how much of all that stuff is the industry, and the industry cultivating young girls to want or expect or require certain things from the day (like matching napkin ring holders etc).
Because here’s the other half of all of this. I keep hearing myself apologise/explain “this is not a Jewish wedding.” See what I did there? *Even* though I do get to have a wedding after all, I still have to feel like I’m missing out or it won’t be as good as or it won’t be as important or meaningful as … The words coming out of my mouth are starting to piss me off. Because it feels and sounds like I’m robbing myself of this experience, or part of it. So here’s the thing, C isn’t Jewish, he’s not converting and a Rabbi won’t marry us. And when you tell people in the community that you are “marrying out” sometimes/often that is met with disappointment or pity. And it’s very possible/likely that people who are invited to this wedding won’t attend for that reason, and could you know, excommunicate (Jews don’t actually do that, so it’s more like just never talk to you or consider you alive) me. So there’s a bit of that in the air, let’s say.
I don’t really want to go into it here and I don’t really want to buy into it in my everyday life either. If someone can’t be happy for me because I am happy, then, you know, their being there is just not in the spirit of it. And I’m getting old and grumpy and would just prefer not to be judged. I’ve lived life. In some ways mine has been privileged. Within that, being a bit of an exception, or a non conformist and just plain different, meant I never really fit in. That makes it hard when you live in a small community. And long term readers of my older blog were there for the ride that was my 6 years of dysfunctional relationship with that Jewish guy. I guess I just want to be happy that I finally found my other half. And I just want people who are happy for me, and for us, to be there to celebrate that with us on the day. And I want the day to be about that, and our family and friends who have loved us and supported us all along the way. And the rest? I’m tired.
I’ve been there though, being the disappointed person refusing to be happy at someone else’s union. The general thinking goes that you’re lost from the tribe when you marry out. But when I think about the times that I’ve been disappointed, those people were never really much of the practising within the tribe kind of people to begin with. Can you lose something you never had? I have no doubt how strong my own Jewish identity is. And I know it’s pretty loud and clear every day of my life. My Jewish identity colours everything I do. And when I think about it, there’s no reason to think I’m suddenly going to lose it – I’ve been essentially living with C for almost a year now and if anything, he has picked up way more Yiddish and has learned elements of kashrut that I do practice (eg checking the eggs before he made omelettes for our fried rice last night).
So I’m struggling with determinedly not wanting to become a bridezilla. Not wanting to buy into really caring about tiny, stupid window dressing things that aren’t actually related to the point of it all. But also, wanting to be able to really enjoy this whole thing because we’re only getting married once and this is it! I finally get to have my turn! (See how dangerous that slippery slope is?!)
I really want it to be a celebration of who we are, individually and coming together. And for the ceremony to reflect that – because, *since* it’s not a Jewish wedding, all bets are off. We can baulk all and any traditions we like and make it all up as we go.
As soon as I figure out what our theme colours are.
and freaking out about workload. And planning a wedding on top. I’m finally starting to get it, that every year there is more to do in less time.
I’m wanting to post about some wedding thoughts but that will need to wait til tomorrow now. My new thing, it seems, is falling asleep early and getting up uber early. It’s my version of jetlag, I guess. And so I’ve been waking and getting up at 6.30 am since I arrived in San Diego. So yesterday and today, I left for work at 6.30 and started at 7.30. And I gotta say, I’m really loving it. I’m hoping I can keep it up. There is something about the getting a jump start on the day that kickstarts my productivity. I’m doing so much more and at better quality first thing in the morning than I ever was when I’d get in by my regular clock. And there is no mid afternoon slump because I’ve already left for the day by then. I hate that it’s me that’s changed, but it means getting up in the morning at the same time as C and no longer having an interrupted sleep (I usually fall back asleep for two more hours after he leaves).
The only thing that’s not really in the groove yet is my TPP work. I’m still sick as a dog (on a nebuliser and off caffeine and anything but simple foods) and am fading by the time I’m home in the evenings. I’m hoping it’s just a matter of not being able to rev all the engines at once because I did have a pretty heavy workload for November and every day I’m not getting part done means there will be harder work to be done later.
My November tally (starting from today) for slushing, editing, copyediting and proofing:
Well I’ve been home 4 days now. My lack of posting I will blame on being sick as a dog. The Crohn’s flare up continues and my cold was unpleasant and then worked its way to my chest where it now sits, giving me a cough and playing havoc with my asthma. Throw on top of that hormone funness and I can say, I’ve been feeling quite miserable. I’m glad to be home but I’m not moving very fast or achieving very much. I had intended to have Thursday and Friday off work for Twelfth Planet Press work days. Instead I’ve had them as sick, mopey bout the house, days.
I don’t get jetlag. It’s my superpower. Instead my body clock shifts so that I’ve been waking up and getting up at 6.30am since I arrived in San Diego. That continues. Thursday I therefore ran errands, did shopping and popped into Tehani’s before doing general house pottering like my laundry. I basically felt off, on and off all day, with a fever and the coughing etc. C had asked me whilst I was away if I thought I would still be up for a dinner he’d planned for us for Thursday night. I really didn’t feel like going out at all but he’d booked, so he said, and had checked that they would make me steamed veggies, so I dressed and went along. On the drive I felt really ill, faint and nauseous, and then I noticed C took a turn that was surprisingly on the way to Tehani’s house. I thought, “Oh good, if we’re going there for dinner, that’s much better than a restaurant.” And then he pulled up at her house and I thought, “Weird.” And then as we entered, there seemed to be other people there. And there were! A bunch of my friends got together and threw me a surprise welcome home party! I always wanted a surprise party and I finally got one! And I was speechless, they totally got me! And Tehani had made me bland, inoffensive soup! And there was gluten free bread. And sushi! And none of it hurt! And I got to catch up with everyone, and talk and it was fantastic!
Friday I moped again about the house – the moping was for the lack of work I was getting done as well as for being sick. I did get out in the afternoon with C and bought me a copy of The Courier’s New Bicycle and also some decaf T2 tea. And Saturday I took Howie up to the parents to show him off as well as checking my post office box and other random chores.
Today we had lunch with C’s parents. And there are lots of conversations about wedding dates and arrangements. The first thing I did Thursday morning was sort my bridesmaids. It just felt like a very pressing and important thing and I was much relieved when they were all asked and said yes. Beyond that, I have no idea about anything but all of a sudden, the train has left the station!
I go back to work tomorrow. And I supposed reality will set back in with a thwack. Christmas is around the corner though. And in looking forward to that, that means it’s almost 2012. I have much to do before the end of the year. I’d better get cracking.
All good things come to an end. And after the World Fantasy Awards, World Fantasy Con starts to feel like at the end of Dirty Dancing – the summer is over, everyone is packing up and saying goodbye and heading home. There’s the final photos taken of the winners and the final congratulations and then everyone heads off, basically. Here’s one of the photos (via the Tor website), hopefully the Locus one does not feature me pulling my “Schoolmarm” face:
Important things about this photo. 1) I and Peter Beagle, on the far right, are the only winners, all the rest were acceptors. Heh. 2) Yes that’s me in a photo with my favourite SF author, Ted Chiang. Oh and there’s Neil Gaiman. Yes.
Also, Scott Edelman recorded the entire ceremony and uploaded it to Youtube. I recommend watching Connie Willis’ speech which is charming and hilarious. The Special Award Non Professional category is at the 35 minute mark, I believe.
Of course the “main bar” at the hotel was closed and so after the official photos, we headed to Charlie’s (the sportsbar) for final drinks. Our group kept on growing as we all had the last drinks, the last teasing of each other and the last moments of seeing friends in person. It was a lot of fun. There was a dalmatian statue lurking in the garden behind Jonathan. And in the foreground is my giant head! He was scaring Tessa so we had to face him away. I’m not sure what the puppy is going to make of it.
A bunch of us headed off for dinner at the Farmhouse Cafe, I believe it was called. French food. They had one vegetarian dish – mushroom ravioli which was delicious. I watched the others enjoy two different bottles of wine and various delicious desserts. I would have ordered the butterscotch mousse or whatever it was, had I remotely thought I could have eaten it. Instead I enjoyed watching Holly eat hers and she was most amused that I honestly wouldn’t try a bite. I just kept asking for detailed descriptions. And that’s how you can evaluate the Crohn’s.
We had much fun and lots of laughs and it was a lovely way to say goodbye to WFC. When we headed back, we couldn’t find many people in the bar so I headed to bed. I actually was really good about getting enough sleep this con. Didn’t help the Crohns but I must say, I much prefer not feeling like death warmed up constantly whilst trying to have meaningful conversations.
Jonathan, Charles, Ellen and I scraped in one final breakfast on Monday morning and then it really was the last goodbye. I packed and checked out. I wrapped Lovecraft in some bubble wrap and then my heavy coat and placed him in my suitcase and am still hoping for the best.
I hung out in the hotel lobby using my internet til my cousin came to pick me up noonish. And then we headed off to lunch to meet D and V for another last goodbye. So sad! We went to hang out in Normal Heights:
Specifically to check out this fabric store that is in an old movie cinema:
And to drink coffee in a coffee shop called Lestat’s. It’s a very funky neighbourhood and Lestat’s had the obligatory red velvet couches and so on. There were lots of tables with people working at them. Looked like a nice hangout to come and write. And there were lots of artworks all over the walls.
I ordered a coffee called the Hammer Head. I think that was supposed to mean it was very strong. It was two espresso shots, which is what I drink normally every morning as my first coffee. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with that but when I got back to the table, D told me I was then supposed to top that up with more coffee. I went back to do that – the thermoses of coffee ready made and sitting there, hot – and drank it. I’m officially giving up on coffee in America. I’m now declaring it “another beverage” and removing my expectations. But it was good to try. And we also split a very rich, very delicious cupcake – eaten too fast to photograph.
After we headed out the coffee shop, we found pups dressed up for Halloween. Not sure if I caught the fairy wings properly but – puppies as a lobster and a fairy!
And a cheongsam!
We had a wander around for a bit and V decided to grab Batwoman from this comic store after listening to Tansy on Galactic Suburbia. I checked out the New 52 in real life. And the comic store had a guinea pig, a chihuahua puppy and adults dressed up for Halloween.
And then? Then a bookstore. I bought books. I knew I was already overweight with my luggage and yet I bought more books.
From here V and D took me to the airport. I didn’t do very well from this point. I began to feel unwell in the car and was getting a bit anxious about the whole thing – the seating thing, the checking my baggage through to Perth, the luggage being overweight, the very long flight. V and D really kindly came in and I’m not sure I would have been sorted, had they not. My bag was overweight, we knew that. But Cathay allow two pieces, neither can be over 50 pounds. So D helped me pull apart my suitcase – I showed them the head – and we used my con bag to pack full of books, pull some of my stuff from carry on and then checked two pieces, no extra cost and checked through to Perth. Still to see how they arrive and whether TSA opened my case to look at the head.
That sorted, they held my bags and I used the bathroom. And then the very last and very saddest goodbye. I shall miss hanging out with them very much. D and I are very alike. And I think we formed a strong bond this trip. I hope to stay in contact with her for life now. What an outstanding extra from this WFC!
I went to go through security and encountered my very first XRay machine. I actually hadn’t seen one before and it took me a while to understand what the TSA dude wanted me to do. And when I realised, I immediately opted out. I guess I’d decided that some time ago when this was all on the internet because I didn’t think about it. I looked at this enormous machine and just went, “no the hell way.” And that meant I was a “lock out” and a female TSA guard had to come get me, pick all my stuff out of the security screening and take me to the side and then feel me up. I thought she was as professional as she could be. She told me what she was going to do before she did it and she did it efficiently and quickly. But she also touched me pretty much all over my body.
Then I sat and waited for the plane. And started shivering or shaking. It was quite unpleasant and I still don’t know if it was because I was cold or scared. It got worse when we had to stand on the tarmac waiting to be walked over to the plane and it basically lasted the whole plane ride. I had a low blood sugar moment during the next leg too. I will be so glad to finally be home.
I am writing this in the Hong Kong lounge, waiting for my last plane. I’ve run the errands I had to do here. I’ve showered and had a brief massage and tried to drink fluids. I do feel a bit better though I have a headcold. 7 hours here sounds like a drag but it’s also long enough to build energy to face more flying. I dunno though that I could say I enjoy these 33 – 36 hour hauls.
An aspect of my trip that I don’t think I’ve really captured in these posts has been all the random people I’ve bumped into and a shared a moment, or an experience with. I changed my attitude a while back in terms of how I interface with the world, after a discussion I had with Ben Payne one time. His idea basically was that if you expect harshness because that’s what you bring, that’s what you will receive. I paraphrase wildly. So that if you flip that, imagine how you could navigate and experience the world. And in so many little ways, that has been my trip. From sharing a snarky remark with a TSA worker about a rude dude who couldn’t step aside to take his fricking watch off and let me pass, to all kinds of random kindnesses – even small things can lift and brighten your day.
I’ll get back to finishing off my con blogging but I wanted to record my last leg of the trip I just did – LA to Hong Kong. I ended up falling asleep before the plane took off (I don’t remember it taking flight) and slept maybe 8 hours? The lady next to me was very sweet and kind but she fell unwell midflight. I don’t cope well with that so I got up and wandered down to the back of the plane and stood there and watched the stewards working flat out with people asking for water and noodles. I asked if I could be moved but I think I was kinda ignored. I went back to check on the lady and she was asking me about the sick bag. So I headed back and told them she was very unwell and I no longer wished to sit next to her. One of the stewards rushed about and found me a new seat, it was in the middle of the row though (I didn’t mind) and the people were happy for me to move. I explained to the lady that I was moving and she could have the aisle seat as well, since she was already kinda splayed on it, she seemed pleased and then I moved.
I apologised to the guy as I slunk into my new seat – I do know the thrill of the empty middle seat and I was taking that away from them. He was all set up with about 5 different devices and working on his laptop the whole flight. Frankly, he seemed high maintenance. But I endeavoured to not make any more fuss! I watched Friends with Benefits and the rest of America’s Next Top Model and what not.
But the old lady next to me on the other side, I soon realised, was paralysed down her left side, the side I was sitting next to. I wasn’t really sure what was appropriate but when she dropped things I picked them up and she asked me to show her how to use the inflight entertainment. I was ok switching it all to Cantonese for her but after that, look my Cantonese ain’t that flash. But she figured it out. And every now and then she asked me to help her with something and I was happy to. Airline seatbelts aren’t actually that easy to fasten with one hand. Anyway, she was very lovely. We tried to speak a bit, she had broken English. And at some point I was sure she was a spy for Tehani because when I declined the need to pop out to use the rest room she interrogated me on just how many hours it was since I had last gone. And how much water I had drunk. And when I was sneezing (airplane aircon makes my nose run), she checked to see how warm my cardigan was.
As the flight landed, she told me that when the steward had told her someone wanted to move to sit next to her, she had not minded. She said she’d been a little lonely and then I came and I helped her with things and it made her so happy that I had moved. As I got up to leave, we embraced hands and wished each other the best with the rest of our journeys.
What do I do with that?!
My being uncomfortable in one place enabled me to do a mitzvah in turn. I’m so glad I was able to help her and make her journey better.
Entries
Today I’m planning on finishing Kim Westwood’s The Courier’s New Bicycle so I can talk about it on Galactic Suburbia this week.
