09 December, 2007

Update: life

Sucky things:
  • Steven's cracked pelvis. He came off his bike (all by himself, no cars, dogs, small children, women in bikinis, or even forward motion involved) three weeks ago, so officially has at least another 3 weeks of healing to go. That means we'll be doing Christmas (which we were hoping to avoid by sneaking off to Malaysia, although looking at the bank balance I'm not sure how we were going to afford it) in Sydney. Sigh. He's in heaps less pain than he was the first week, and is becoming fairly dexterous on the crutches. But (a) he's pretty much house-bound and (b) when he does get out, having the crutches means that he ends up being asked about what happened and spends all his time describing the accident and telling people that no, bikes are not awful dangerous demons-on-wheels, he could have had the same accident walking, etc.

  • The revisions. Revising a 120K novel (for me - I've no doubt it's a cinch for everyone else on the planet; that's how low I've sunk) is like being up to your eyeballs in phantasmagorical swamp-matter and trying, and repeatedly failing, to instruct someone on the bank how to thread a needle. (Insert wordless exclamations of distress here.) Still, if I just keep turning up and doing it, it will eventually be done, I am sure.
Excellent things:
  • Last week, seeing a photo of our new PM and Deputy PM in the paper (Weekend Australian, Inquirer section) visiting a school with, just discernible between their heads, a very blurry Red Spikes cover on the library shelf.

  • This puff from Gerard Windsor in the SMH yesterday, reviewing Barry Oakley's Journeys anthology (in which a Black Juice story, 'Rite of Spring' is reprinted): 'To say nothing of her myth-drenched imagination, Lanagan has such a supple originality with words and observation that she leaves her readers bouncing with exhilaration.' Well, some of them, anyway; the ones who aren't put off by all those dreadful common people in them. Or aren't stuffing in so many stories so fast you've got to wonder what they're getting out of their reading.
Back to the swamp, now. And taking my bad temper with me.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Margo,

I don't think you're the only person on the planet who feels that way when revising a novel. (It can be even worse; sometimes one comes to the conclusion that it feels like swamp-matter because it *is* swamp-matter, and one would be better to just start again on another, less swampy novel.)

BTW, I think I drove past you on my way to Summer Hill this morning, but we were going in opposite directions and I missed the chance to call out or wave.


09 December, 2007 13:59  

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