Yes, I was at Worldcon 2010. Yes, I was superninja on a panel with China Miéville. In my capacity as a postgraduate academic and reader/fan, of course. Precious few people recognise or acknowledge me as a writer, yet*. Anyway, it was a pretty strange place to be in, but I was okay about the points I made. No, I did not faint in fright when China Miéville shook my hand. Yes, I did manage to wash my hand later that night. No, I did not giggle like a moron!

I also presented an academic paper, and attended back to back panels with my beautiful cloth-bound journal adorned with Japanese cherry blossoms and a geisha girl bookmark. I scribbled tons and tons of notes annotated with my own comments and (sometimes) snarky analysis/thoughts/criticisms. I also collected phat lewt. Now, not everything here is from Worldcon, and some of these things I didn’t have to pay for. Especially the used books from the Melbourne Science Fiction Club which they were giving away for free. I did make donations, though. The pocket watch on a chain I got from Carrington’s over on Swanston Street, a place I’d visited before on a prior visit to Melbourne. I also got a gorgeous pashmina there, but the pashminas, along with the chocolates are not in this pic. As for the Worldcon 2010 name-badge, I’m going to miss having it around my neck. For five days, it felt like a magic talisman, protecting me from the Evils of the world, because I was in a place where all SF/F geeks congregated, and it was good.

*In case this sounds like I’m whinging, I’m not. It makes me appreciate even more the people who know who I am and those who have faith in me. You guys rock and I <3 you all. Also, I am determined enough that hopefully, this status quo will not remain for long.

I thought some of you might enjoy pictorial proof of the books that have been engrossing and inspiring me, both as a writer and a postgraduate academic, over the past couple of weeks. They’re all from the university library, hence the bar codes. I’ll be an academic for life if only for this. Access to books and databases. I think it’s a major job perk.

The books you see are (in no particular order):

The Einstein Intersection - Samuel R. Delany
The Jewel-Hinged Jaw: Notes on the Language of Science Fiction – Samuel R. Delany
Silent Interviews: On Language, Race, Sex, Science Fiction and Some Comics – Samuel R. Delany
A Sense of Wonder: Samuel R. Delany, Race, Identity and Difference - Jeffrey Allen Tucker
The Language of The Night – Ursula K Le Guin
Dancing at the Edge of The World: Thoughts on Words, Women Places – Ursula K Le Guin
The Left Hand of Darkness – Ursula K Le Guin

Ursula K Le Guin has been my hero since I was a lonely fifteen year old spending her afternoons at either the school library or the public library in a sleepy rural town in Malaysia, looking for whatever science fiction and fantasy book she could find to read because she didn’t have enough money to buy as many books as she ploughed through, per week. That’s how I discovered the Earthsea books, and was haunted by Ged and his shadow. I’m actually impressed at the selection of classics that were in that tiny library in Sungai Petani! Discovered many lifelong loves there.

Later, during my twentysomething years, I remember taking a book of Le Guin’s poems from a shelf in a bookstore to read while I waited for a friend. It was far too expensive for me to buy, but in that hour I read her poems and felt like every line was an arrow straight into me, reminding me of certain truths that still existed while my soul slept. It’s surprising to me that despite all this, I haven’t read enough of her books, apart from her Earthsea books, some of her poems and critical writings, and the Orsinian Tales, of course. But then again, it’s made me so very glad to rediscover them over the past couple of weeks. Couldn’t have come at a better time, really. Perhaps this is why we leave off reading that special book, or wearing that special dress or going to that special, secret place we’ve always wanted to visit. Perhaps something in us knows, or feels that there will be a time when we will need it more than this. And some day, that time comes, and you’re glad you waited.

You would think I had better things to do instead of calculating my reading average for the past seven years, and you would be right. I’ve been dividing my weekend up between reading texts for a conference paper and a panel I will be presenting at, drafting an academic paper, drafting a short story, as well as catching up on some reading for pleasure. The books that have given me the most pleasure this week have been Ursula K Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven as well as her Left Hand of Darkness. I’ve also enjoyed reading a collection of her critical writing, The Language of the Night along with some essays and interviews by Samuel R. Delany, and Helen Merrick’s The Secret Feminist Cabal: A Cultural History of Science Fiction Feminisms.

All in all, I am satisfied with my reading for the year, but it also left me curious about my reading patterns for the last decade or so. It feels as if I read slower now, but that is also due to the realities of being both a postgraduate scholar as well as an academic. Ironically enough, my years of teaching literature at a non-governmental organisation’s private college had me reading voraciously. It is ironic because I was teaching 15-17 hours a week, doing some admin stuff as well as running an editorial board for the college, but somehow, I still managed to find time to lose myself in texts. I would suppose it was because we had these hours between classes to fill, it was a shared office space and none of us were given individual computers. It was also partially because I tend not to have a very active social life. Which leads me to believe that my shocking low of only 33 books read for pleasure last year was due to the amount of time spent on a certain social networking apparatus that I’ve since jettisoned. Granted, there are things I often leave off the list. I did a hefty bit of critical reading last year, and the same applies to this year. Those books, articles, reviews etc will never go on these lists because there are far too many of them. Occasionally I will list primary sources or secondary sources that I actually enjoyed for its own sake, but otherwise, I’d feel it was cheating.

Anyway, I decided to use ordered lists for all the reading lists I have on this site. I actually have been keeping these lists since 2000, but since The Book Alcove was coded by hand and long-since jettisoned, those earlier lists have since disappeared into the ether. What I have here are my reading figures from 2003-2009, and just for added fun, I even calculated the mean.

1. 2003 – 46 books
2. 2004 – 42 books
3. 2005 – 68 books
4. 2006 – 45 books
5. 2007 – 58 books
6. 2008 – 78 books
7. 2009 – 33 books

Mean – 52.85 books per year

I don’t know about you, but I find this depressing. For someone passionate about books and whose path in life is all about books, that’s a depressing amount of reading. I’d love to make it to 100 books some year, but I know it won’t be this year. Fortunately, my reading figure for this year won’t be as grim as 2009, since I’ve already reached 40 books! I’m hoping to at least reach my average by the end of this year. Somehow, I think I can do it. I find hours spent just reading quietly to be very healing for me, and I aim to do more of this.

Gah. Stupid thesis chapter is confounding me. I’ve been staring at the bloody thing for the past couple of hours. Hate when that happens and you’re reduced to copy-editing and polishing instead of making substantial changes. A blog update seems to be good to break the stasis. So, some “good” news. Because I need to remind myself there’s good news in my world.

• I had a wonderful birthday with wonderful people, and wonderful food. This made me very happy.


• By my own personal standards, the paper I presented at Canberra was a “success”, in that it was my least flawed delivery, and I managed to answer all the questions well. I guess every conference I’ve been to has made me more sure of myself. Also, I think I have my conference paper presenting system down, and I can use this formula for years to come, hopefully improving on it. Last year, I realized that for me, it was more important to be a serious scholar presenting a fully written paper instead of just having nice slides or whatnot. I’ve stayed true to this. Public speaking is still terrifying, but I get over it by treating my audience like they were my students. That kind of helps.


• My abstract for Aussiecon 4 has been accepted, so I’ll be presenting there. I’m both elated and terrified. I think presenting a paper at my first Con is a good thing, though. Will give me some sort of structure and purpose.


• I also belatedly discovered that Said The Tree to the (Axe)Man is listed here. It’s for 2007. I’m utterly gobsmacked I’m listed in Locus Mag, no matter how obscurely. Granted it was my only print sale, but it’s a start, I guess.


• Speaking of print publishing, Cabinet des Fees 3, the print journal edited by Erzebet Yellowboy and Helen Pillinovsky is now out! I got a sneak peak, and I have to say, the stories are absolutely exquisite, so you should go get it now! Also, Erzebet has rolled out the new site and domain for Cabinet des Fees; there’s a teaser for the new section for Cabinet des Fees that I’ve been slowly working on this year with input from Erzebet, Demeter’s Spicebox. It’s going to be a “by invitation” project aimed at exploring lesser-known fairytale types, set in different locales around the world, and we’ve been making a wishlist of authors that we’d like to contribute.


• I have been reading books from the Hugo Voters Packet, finished reading Cat Valente’s Palimpsest over the week in Canberra, on my dopod. And, I love it. Yup. I was totally swept away by the story and enchanted by it. At its best, the intersection between worlds reminded me of both John Crowley’s style of fiction as well as Clive Barker’s Weaveworld, with some of the textual brutality of Murakami. Since the ability to be swept away by fiction when one is a jaded phd student in literature and drama can get a little strained, I’m grateful for small mercies. Next, The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi. I am also rather chuffed that I’ll be able to vote for the Hugos this year. It’s a moment of geekish pride, I think.


• Music recommendations that I have fallen head over heels in love with, both old and new: Belle and Sebastian, The Decemberists, My Brightest Diamond and Bat for Lashes. I’ve heard about the two former bands for years, but never got around to really listening to them, but they are now firmly part of my soundtrack for this year. I spent the whole day listening to The Decemberists singing “The Hazards of Love” an epic indie-folk rock opera with folkloric themes inclusive of Tam Lin. So good.


• I bought red clothing in Canberra for very reasonable prices. I’d been yearning for more crimson in my wardrobe and now I have it. Also acquired T.S. Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral at an open-air used books sale.


• I am now addicted to caramel cappucino. Wait, is that good news? :-/

That’s it for now. I hope I’ll have more good news this year. A fiction or poetry sale would be nice, but one has to submit for these things, before one gets either accepted or rejected, no? Maybe I should reserve one afternoon a week for this. I think I’d hate myself if I let this year go by without a single creative submission. For now, I’m going back to trying to add another paragraph in my thesis before I sleep. Despite all the good news listed above, I’m still whiny, angsty and more than a little neurotic. Sigh.

As projected, the start of the new semester coincided with a lull in blog posts! But this was inevitable. I am slowly getting back into student mode. After an excruciating two-three weeks, there are finally some moorings in my chapter. Which is good, because there’s going to be choppy waters ahead, and many-tentacled monsters lurking in the deeps. While I’m on a sea-faring metaphorical streak, I’d suggest some of you peek at Jim Bloom’s delightful essay on seafaring narratives and other fantastical things, Fantastic Voyages: By Ship to Nowhereland and Back (Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3) over at Cabinet des Fees.

Also, if you’ve been pretty clueless about the past weekend’s #amazonFAIL flap over @ the twitterverse and blogosphere (ZOMG, I said blogosphere in a non-ironic way!), Cheryl Morgan’s post gives a pretty good summation of kerfuffle between two leviathans, with writers being the casualty. Also check out the excellent posts by Jay Lake and John Scalzi. I’m bemused by the war and am wondering where it will all lead in the long run. It feels like something started over the weekend and I’m interested in seeing the developments as per people switching to alternate online book distribution services. People have been mentioning indiebound and book depository as alternatives, for instance. I’ve heard good things about both services, and removed all but one of my amazon.com associate links ages ago, since I decided I wasn’t making enough revenue to justify all the hits I was sending to their site.

About the Photo

I decided not to do anything with photoshop here, so you’re just viewing the results of a pixel resize as well as the addition of copyright text. I loved these shots of wildflowers I took in the late afternoon sunlight in the tiny copse of trees on the grounds. Being outdoors is, as always, a balm. The older I get, the more I resist sitting still and working in this position for hours. I get up and do housework or various domestic activities in between batches of studying and writing. Some days it feels excruciatingly slow, but then I start getting modest results and it feels like it is somehow worth it. Every moment is like a wildflower with Blakesean eternities trapped within its petals, after all! Petals and manuscripts are in my head right now, both of them connecting in strangely whimsical ways. It’s an interesting start to February, and I am wondering what artistic adventures I will embark on this month. I am determined this year to balance the two parts of my being far more efficiently, since the lack of progress in either part of my creative/intellectual process makes me feel like half a person. I’ve been thinking about this, and the fact that we forget that research and research-writing requires creativity as well, and that creative work requires the intellect, the power of analysis and of making informed artistic judgements. In the end, are they so dramatically dissimilar?