The Japanese test from hell.
Oh my god, that was rough.
She tested us on stuff that was not in the books, punishing those of us who missed days where she presented material orally.
I was one of those people. Shit, shit, shit, I was sick that day (re: I was up all night studying for my Philosophy test and crashed).
I got three of the extra credit questions right, I believe, so that's three points. But the vocabulary I didn't know cost me, I think about six points at least. Add that to my usual three points of mindless/stupid mistakes (I didn't have time to doublecheck since I was scrambling to figure out from context what the unfamiliar vocabulary meant), of 100, the best I can expect is 90-93, and it potentially could go as low as 85.
Ouch. I needed a good score on this test.
Good news though. I got that Philosophy test back: 49/50.
Now I have to do is read then write two pages on Aristotle, read then write a couple pages on that Hindu scholar, read and write a paragraph each on Singer and whatshisname, legibly write out the definitions of fifteen pages of legal terms, and memorize a speech in Japanese.
The legal terms are due Tuesday, (I may have to do a make up test for Law as well).
The killer Philosophy test is on Wednesday.
The Japanese speech that has to be memorized this week (repeat, repeat, repeat) and presented orally on Thursday at 8am.
Oh. And I have to work both Monday and Tuesday.
*runs screaming into the street*
Then I have to study for a math test.
She tested us on stuff that was not in the books, punishing those of us who missed days where she presented material orally.
I was one of those people. Shit, shit, shit, I was sick that day (re: I was up all night studying for my Philosophy test and crashed).
I got three of the extra credit questions right, I believe, so that's three points. But the vocabulary I didn't know cost me, I think about six points at least. Add that to my usual three points of mindless/stupid mistakes (I didn't have time to doublecheck since I was scrambling to figure out from context what the unfamiliar vocabulary meant), of 100, the best I can expect is 90-93, and it potentially could go as low as 85.
Ouch. I needed a good score on this test.
Good news though. I got that Philosophy test back: 49/50.
Now I have to do is read then write two pages on Aristotle, read then write a couple pages on that Hindu scholar, read and write a paragraph each on Singer and whatshisname, legibly write out the definitions of fifteen pages of legal terms, and memorize a speech in Japanese.
The legal terms are due Tuesday, (I may have to do a make up test for Law as well).
The killer Philosophy test is on Wednesday.
The Japanese speech that has to be memorized this week (repeat, repeat, repeat) and presented orally on Thursday at 8am.
Oh. And I have to work both Monday and Tuesday.
*runs screaming into the street*
Then I have to study for a math test.
The non-mystery of the creative process - part II
"I beg your pardon?" he said. Strangely, my imaginary Frodo had answer. More strangely, it wasn't one I expected.
I suddenly realized that Frodo was not exactly open to the idea. No wonder I was having so much trouble maneuvering him into bed with Sam!
He was very polite however, so I couldn't tell if he was repulsed or simply confused.
So I explained, "That means having a," I sought for an equally polite tone, "physical relationship with someone of the same gender."
"We don't really discuss such private matters here in the Shire." He seemed nonplused. "But I've never really thought about it." Well, this wasn't getting anywhere; but fortunately he took a breath and kept speaking. "Why would anyone want to do that?"
Trust Frodo to turn the tables and answer a question with another question.
Hmm. This could either mean that he was hopelessly straight, or he had never imagined homosexuality. Perhaps the Shire was an awfully straight-laced sort of place. I tried Frodo's technique (and marveled at how good he was at evasion):
"So you've never heard of such a thing?" I feigned surprise, as if everyone who was anyone had. It stung his pride. By this point the character Frodo was quite vividly a person.
"No. Well," he hedged, "it's not unheard of. But one's private life is exactly that: private." He gave me a firm look and I knew the conversation was over.
I never really got my answer, but I learned a lot about him in the process. And I knew that for him, a gay relationship would have to come out of the clear blue sky, and would have to be utterly private. In a sense he was more vulnerable: he'd never considered it enough to recognize the signs. He was so terribly solitary.
Then I knew what my plot would have to be, what situation would work for him. I wrote it down fast, before the impulse of the story disappeared, surfing it like a wave, shaping it as I would an essay but instead of it being my ideas that I was shaping, I was shaping what has sprung out of my conversation with him. That was the difference.
I hope this is helpful.
These days I rarely have to interview my characters unless they are OCs (I've interviewed Torvald and a few others), but that process awakened a child-like quality of playing make-believe. The characters have come to life. Sometime inconveniently, sometimes astounding me.
Icarus
Re: The non-mystery of the creative process - part II
And I'm both bemused and impressed by the fact that it occurred to you to interview your characters. Perhaps this is a tribute to the sort of strengths that a Waldorf education builds in students? You come at problems from angles that never, in what passes for the wildest flights of fancy in me, would ever enter my head.
OK. I'll try anything once. So I did an interview with Snape in my head. It turns out that my Snape is very canon, and a much harsher, unhappier person than yours is (or most Snapes I've read in fanon). Your Snape is capable of affection and attachment, particularly if it sneaks up on him unawares. Mine couldn't be taken by surprise like that: he's terribly self-aware, in the way that very reserved people often are, and I doubt he could feel warmth or strong affection for anyone else. I'm not really sure I'd want to spend the amount of time inside his head that would be required to work up fiction about him.
But I'll think about doing it, when I have the time and impulse to try something that would be very new, and a real stretch for me. That would be in late July, 2005 (given my current publishing commitments). But for now, my time is fully taken up by my children, my profession (teaching), my craft (writing history), and my art (singing). I like singing precisely because it isn't verbal; as an exercise in perversity, I posted an essay last week on my lj that attempted to capture in words an art that by its very nature resists words. I was halfway satisfied by what I wrote. But it made me aware that I need an art that's not wordy.
Actually, I'm considering tapering off with the hp essays, after the New Year. For you, it was an entree into writing fiction. But for me, it's like academic analysis lite. I'm using the same gifts and approach I use for historical sources: breaking down fanon/canon into small pieces, rearranging it into new patterns (or pointing out common fanon patterns to the reader), and sucking all the juice out of it.
That's fine for my historical subjects. Most of my research/writing is about people who chose to affiliate themselves with rather evil social processes (I generally write about people who were Nazis, or close to the Nazis). I rather enjoy demystifying them, breaking down their rhetoric and actions, and sucking the juice out of their mythologies and rationales. But I'm beginning to wonder whether I really want to do that with hp fanon.
Hmm. If that's what I really think, then perhaps I should switch to trying fiction, even though I know I couldn't do that as well as I do essays. You know, even my Snape could develop some sort of odd relationship with another person, if he were put in a position where he was compelled to do so.
*pauses. Thinks about the fact that she just yesterday agreed to write yet another historical piece, due in May, on top of the other publication commitments she foolishly agreed to for next semester. Reminds herself that she is very fortunate to have publishers (and readers) who want her to write history for them*
Maybe not. Not until I've sent in my big ms., due July 1st.
Cordelia V