Saturday, 28 November 2015

Just keep swimming...

I have some catching up to do - sorry. In my previous post, I wrote that I'd got an interview for a prison librarian job. That didn't lead to anything; the job was only temporary because of a huge lack of funding and, the thing that actually ruled the job out for me, I'd have to use the phone. Almost anyone with a stammer will tell you that phones are their nemesis. The Husband makes my appointments for me; I have a special arrangement with the Open University which means he can speak on my behalf. It's annoying and I don't know why I'm so bad with phones. I'm okay with family and some of my friends - I have a caller display on my phone, and if it's not someone I'll be fluent with, I just leave it to the answering machine. Technology is kind of on my side - most official things can be dealt with through email; some friends prefer a text to a phone call, but if the phone rings at work, it's no good looking at me to answer it. Or Ms Titian, because she's fairly deaf and wears hearing aids. Once, dire circumstances left us both in charge of the school office, and we were next to useless. All the forms got filled in, and money got counted, but phones? Nah!

So, no prison job. Which is kind of okay, especially as The Husband's friend, who is a warden at said prison, saw his partner beaten up last week by someone who was fuelled up on drugs. The worst I've ever had is a chair thrown at me by one of our past Year 6 students, so maybe I'm better where I am... I have got rid of my library duties, though. For a job that needed two or three hours a week timetabled for it, I was given no time at all, and the piles of unfinished jobs and the feelings of guilt were getting to me. I couldn't manage much overtime to get things done. Actually, that's a lie. I could have managed it, but if this year has taught me anything, it's 'make the most of the time you have with your family.' Sadly, I've also learned some lessons about my friends. When I said I was going to give up the library, most said, 'Good idea - that'll be one less thing to stress about,' but two friends stopped talking to me. When I asked them if they'd be interested in taking it on, they refused to discuss it and I caught the exchange of, 'See, I told you...' looks between them. I think they believed I was giving up something I used to love in a fit of pique. Thankfully, The Boss Lady was on my side and relieved me of the burden immediately. 

Things are getting better at work, I have to admit. Yesterday, I was given a regular Friday afternoon slot in my favourite class. They have a new teacher who I get on really well with, and have known vaguely for years and years, as he's the father of my son's best friend. He's a great person to be sarcastic and irreverent with, so that's a big plus. We also have a new teaching assistant who is an old friend, and that I had forgotten that I loved so much, so things are on the up. I have taken a leaf out of another colleague's book, and have started saying what I think a bit more. Agreeing with people and doing everything I was asked to just got me walked over, I found. 

Anyway, enough complaining. I should be writing a script for my next assignment, but it's not due until January 5th, so I'm thinking I can leave it until the school Christmas holidays and get it done then. Deluded? Maybe. I'm still waiting to hear from Roehampton University about whether I've been accepted on their Masters course. Apparently, when they said I'd hear within the week (3 weeks ago), I'd been sent the wrong automated email. I should hear within 6 weeks. Meanwhile, I've got some reading to catch up on. I've just bought the second in a series by Terry Goodkind - all magic and ridiculousness, but very enjoyable. The new book is 1027 pages long (rubs hands in gleeful anticipation). Unfortunately, I've forgotten what happened in the first book, so I've got to go back and read that again first. And there are 17 books in the series, so this could take some time, and a lot of bookshelf space. 


Better get the coffee on... 

Saturday, 7 November 2015

No-NoWriMo

Being between assignments, I rashly signed up for this year's National Novel-Writing Month. I've wanted to have a go at writing those 50,000 words for a couple of years, but have never found the time. So I created my account on 31st October and have now typed the grand total of 501 words. The stats page on the website says that, at my current rate of writing, I will have completed my 'novel' by October 5th 2017. It started off well. I had the idea of something I wanted to write, but it took me all evening to write 200 words I was happy with. I then decided that, actually, I wasn't happy with them, deleted everything and started again with something totally different. 498 words-plus-a-title later, and I've got a page of rubbish. The NaNoWriMo website says that the idea is just to write, and you'll probably end up with 50,000 words of sub-standard stuff, and that's okay. But that's not how I write. I write a couple of sentences and re-read them, twiddle about with them, delete them and re-write them. I then read through past paragraphs and change bits. I constantly have a thesaurus open on Word and I spend more time editing than writing. I did try to 'just write' and not edit, but found it resulted in mild panic that I may have mistyped something or used the same word in two consecutive sentences. I looked around on the internet for tips on how to manage Editing OCD and found a good blog-post (which, predictably, I now can't find, so can't link to. Sorry.) which said that, actually, it would be of more use to aim to write one amazing paragraph in a month, rather than 50,000 words of crap. (To illustrate my problems, I have just spent ten minutes looking up whether it should be 'aim to write' or 'have the aim of writing' in that last sentence. I tried both, to see which looked the least clunky. I'll probably change it again or decide on something completely different before I publish this. If anyone knows of a self-help group I can join...)

I have just deleted my NaNoWriMo account because I'm fed up with it sitting on my desk-top nagging me. I very nearly cheated, I have to admit. I was tempted to copy and paste a year's worth of blog posts, a few shopping lists and all of my RE assignments, call myself a NaNo-Rebel (i.e. not writing fiction or sticking to the rules in any fashion) and say 'Yes, I did it!' on November 30th. But I didn't. Mainly because I couldn't be bothered. 

So, what to do to fill in all that time that I'm not writing? I should be reading about how to write a script, but...nah. I'm checking my emails a lot. I applied for my Children's Literature Masters last week, and the university replied, saying I'd know within the week whether I'd been accepted. I thought I wouldn't be told until about June or something, so that's an added bit of 'Oh Blimey' I could do without at the moment. I'm expecting the mark for my assignment as well, so I'm wearing out the refresh button on my keyboard. 

To update you on the prison librarian job I've applied for: I've got an interview on Wednesday. I'm hovering between, 'Hey! I've got an interview!!' and, 'Oh bugger, I've got an interview...'. I am wearing people down with my indecisions about my life. Do I actually want another job? Am I being an idiot? What do I want to do? Can I just go home, please? On a school library conference, Ms Fab and I went to a motivational thing by Andy Cope, which was actually really good, as these things so seldom are. He reckons that about 2% of the population are truly happy, and some people are what he called 'Mood Hoovers'. I am aware that, after ticking all the boxes as a two-percenter, I have now turned into a mood hoover and am risking losing friends because I am pissing them off so much with my whinging. The Boss Lady wants to talk to me on Monday. I need to get through a whole meeting with her without crying, which I'm not good at. Not because she's horrible or anything. She's actually been incredibly supportive over the years and wants me to stay in my job and has asked how she can help me. So, what I need to do is go in there, say that I don't feel challenged any more and not just say, 'I'm fine' and burst into tears, because she's probably expecting that. We'll see. 

How do I start doing this?