I've moved my blog to WP: idefiningi.wordpress.com
Showing posts with label editing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label editing. Show all posts
June 24, 2015
wake (n., v.) Reading David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest
Excuse the lack of punctuation etc in this entry as I am curentlz typing ona tinz foreign keyboard, where the punctuation marks are hidden in super/subscript, require multi-digit ctr-alt-function-whatever motions and manz kezs have been swapped (mhm),semicolon,, I have little patience (at the cost of you, my limited audience, I know) - but if i were to stop and correct, i would do so at the expense of slowing down an insurgence of thoughts that come in the wake of my experience with a combination of things ill share with you below.
I had another lucid dream a few nights ago, likelz brought on bz jetlag, mz waking at 4am, reading Infinite Jest for an hour or two before falling into a buzzed numbing of sleep where i continue being awake. it was a failed attempt at a luciditz with full control, but i retained enough awareness of the fact that it was a dream to struggle in it and not be able to give in to the story unravelling, couldnt fall into the trance and rest my mind with body. instead, i lay awake watchful.
Waking from such dreams, where i have not reallz been entirelz ,asleep, is a strange feeling. I recall these dreams as real happenings, zet they bear no ,real, consequence on my life, albeit the emotions thez carrz on through to me in mz fullz wakeful state.its tiring being awake.
I had another lucid dream a few nights ago, likelz brought on bz jetlag, mz waking at 4am, reading Infinite Jest for an hour or two before falling into a buzzed numbing of sleep where i continue being awake. it was a failed attempt at a luciditz with full control, but i retained enough awareness of the fact that it was a dream to struggle in it and not be able to give in to the story unravelling, couldnt fall into the trance and rest my mind with body. instead, i lay awake watchful.
Waking from such dreams, where i have not reallz been entirelz ,asleep, is a strange feeling. I recall these dreams as real happenings, zet they bear no ,real, consequence on my life, albeit the emotions thez carrz on through to me in mz fullz wakeful state.
wake (v.) "to become awake," a Middle English merger of Old English wacan "to become awake, arise, be born, originate," and Old English wacian "to be or remain awake," (Gothic wakan "to watch", from root *weg- "to be strong, be lively" (cognates: Sanskrit vajayati "drives on;" Latin vigil "watchful, awake," vigere "be lively, thrive"), Middle Dutch wachten "to watch, guard;" Meaning "a sitting up at night with a corpse" is attested from early 15c.
- >Its tiring staying awake, too.
“The true opponent, the enfolding boundary, is the player himself. Always and only the self out there, on court, to be met, fought, brought to the table to hammer out terms. The competing boy on the net’s other side: he is not the foe: he is more the partner in the dance. He is the what is the word excuse or occasion for meeting the self. As you are his occasion. Tennis’s beauty’s infinite roots are self-competitive. You compete with your own limits to transcend the self in imagination and execution. Disappear inside the game: break through limits: transcend: improve: win. Which is why tennis is an essentially tragic enterprise, to improve and grow as a serious junior, with ambitions. You seek to vanquish and transcend the limited self whose limits make the game possible in the first place. It is tragic and sad and chaotic and lovely. All life is the same, as citizens of the human State: the animating limits are within, to be killed and mourned, over and over again.”
- David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest
(or. the "endless war against the self you cannot live without.")
But we battle on I guess. the words of a dear friend, JS, brought me some consolation this morning.
The most i can do is yes, narrate it, leave words in my wake and let my enduring internal dialogue turn to script so that i can document my state as i live, wherever it is i find myself on the spectrum of sleep and wakefulness. thoughts gett lost but those that survive remind me that the onlz thing real to me is my voice, mz abilitz to attach expressions to these insurmountable ideas, anchor them in this space and in this time, and continue that effortless struggle to reason myself into motivation enough to continue, to change, grow, do, something as an alternative to a crippling confusion , tickling uncertainty, an infinite jest that without the dream would otherwise leave only room for a laughter, maddenning and unsatisfying in nature. and thats one thing i dare not relinquish: my sense of humour.In ten, twenty years or even next week we’ll look back on right now and think that what followed was inevitable. Don’t forget the uncertainty and unpredictability of today and how you are fighting for every decision, every accomplishment, and every outcome. We’re all surfing on the edge of an ever advancing reality and it’s easy to forget that even when life seems the same what comes next is always new and every minute forward must be earned, lived, and will ultimately be left in your wake for yourself and others to recall and narrate.
humour (n.) Middle English: via Old French from Latin humor ‘moisture’, from humere, humid. The original sense was ‘bodily fluid’ (surviving in aqueous humour and vitreous humour ); it was used specifically for any of the cardinal humours, wence ‘mental disposition’ was thought to be caused by their relative proportions, to determine state of mind. This led to a sense of "mood, temporary state of mind" (first recorded 1520s);p.s. im still not going to copzedit this entrz. it makes the madness - or humour - more convincing. You decide.
March 21, 2015
Siri-ous (adj.)
Emotions, when left to simmer and cool off, often take on a lighter, less serious quality. Studies even show that writing down one's (traumatic) experiences can be therapeutic; and being able to accurately and more eloquently describe (read: recognize and articulate) nuanced emotions is a sign of higher EI and better coping ability. Because you get a chance to revisit the emotion from a more rational place - away from the heated moment - you get a chance to step back and be more objective about your situation.
It happened last Saturday - that night I spontaneously decided to lame out on my friends by making a 180-break from the bar just moments after arriving, to go home and spend a night in, indulging in a bit of alone-ness (this is quite "out of the ordinary" for me, as I'm generally a pretty extroverted, enthusiastic-about-stuff-and-people person). I was generally just having a bit of a day, feeling derailed and fatigued.
Anyway, I went about my day most regularly, apart from the odd command, enunciating basic necessary information so that Siri would hear me clearly -"voice texts" like:
"Text Jack-ee. By the way. Can not swipe to pick phone up. Can only text with voice command. Send."
"Text Alex. Text me the address. Will leave in five. Send."
"Text Breanne." .. "BREEEE-ANNE" (This never worked. Siri couldn't find Brianna in my phone and had she had her way, she'd be googling "Rhianna" had I not shut her up by turning off the screen.)
I even texted "Mom" in English, which was a first for me, because Siri doesn't speak Serbo-Croatian.
As I walked into the Toast Collective that night, I instantly wasn't feeling the vibe; the place was much more energetic than I was and it just kinda sapped me of what little energy I had left after my feeble attempt to get myself out of my apartment to "be social." I made my way to the back to find my friends and instantly decided I was coming over to just say goodbye. I was just feeling kind of down. I said my goodbyes and just as I stepped out the door, I got a text from my friend telling me to come back. In that moment I went into fight or flight mode and instinctively chose flight, feeling an incredible urge to just dismiss the text with a very honest response about how shitty I was feeling so I could move on and get home as fast as possible.
"Text Alex. I am feeling lame and depressed. And just want to go home. Good. Night."
The moment I said it out loud, enunciating each syllable for dear Siri, I felt lighter. In fact, I laughed at myself and at how melodramatic I sounded. Yep - sounded. Had I not been forced to utter it aloud at my phone, I would've continued to take myself waaaaay too seriously. I realized there's nothing wrong with being lame, and that I wasn't really all that depressed because I still had the capacity to laugh at myself. Hearing yourself speak really helps validate the truth of what you're saying.
So I went home, feeling better, because I realized the words I was thinking weren't actually the emotions I was feeling.
I think this is as good a time as any to bring your attention to one of my favourite maxims (it lives in the right rail of this blog as a constant reminder, FYI!). This often helps to ground me and flip situations around when I'm feeling a bit melodramatic:
Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.
It reminds me to take life a little less seriously. (Kind of a more snooty version of #FirstWorldProblems, I guess.)
So next time you're feeling something intense, try to put it into words. It may require more thinking - but that's exactly the point. And if that's not enough to set you straighter, try reading those words out loud. You don't need Siri; you can be your own sounding board.
serious (adj.)I've found a way you can take an even bigger step back, which may be even more beneficial.from Late Latin seriosus, "weighty, important, grave," probably from a PIE root *swer- (4) "heavy". As opposite of jesting, from 1712; as opposite of light (of music, theater, etc.), from 1762.
It happened last Saturday - that night I spontaneously decided to lame out on my friends by making a 180-break from the bar just moments after arriving, to go home and spend a night in, indulging in a bit of alone-ness (this is quite "out of the ordinary" for me, as I'm generally a pretty extroverted, enthusiastic-about-stuff-and-people person). I was generally just having a bit of a day, feeling derailed and fatigued.
What I didn't mention in that blog post was that all day that day, my cell also had not been properly working. For some reason, my iPhone touch screen just didn't want to recognize that I was there and kept ignoring my taps and swipes. The most I could do all day with it was make (often-failed) attempts at commanding Siri to do simple tasks like "turn up the brightness," "turn on Bluetooth," and "play Music" in an effort to drain my battery as soon as possible to force the thing to restart (Disclaimer: I only realized today after telling my friends this story, that I could reset my phone without a swipe...boo-urns).
Anyway, I went about my day most regularly, apart from the odd command, enunciating basic necessary information so that Siri would hear me clearly -"voice texts" like:
"Text Jack-ee. By the way. Can not swipe to pick phone up. Can only text with voice command. Send."
"Text Alex. Text me the address. Will leave in five. Send."
"Text Breanne." .. "BREEEE-ANNE" (This never worked. Siri couldn't find Brianna in my phone and had she had her way, she'd be googling "Rhianna" had I not shut her up by turning off the screen.)
I even texted "Mom" in English, which was a first for me, because Siri doesn't speak Serbo-Croatian.
As I walked into the Toast Collective that night, I instantly wasn't feeling the vibe; the place was much more energetic than I was and it just kinda sapped me of what little energy I had left after my feeble attempt to get myself out of my apartment to "be social." I made my way to the back to find my friends and instantly decided I was coming over to just say goodbye. I was just feeling kind of down. I said my goodbyes and just as I stepped out the door, I got a text from my friend telling me to come back. In that moment I went into fight or flight mode and instinctively chose flight, feeling an incredible urge to just dismiss the text with a very honest response about how shitty I was feeling so I could move on and get home as fast as possible.
"Text Alex. I am feeling lame and depressed. And just want to go home. Good. Night."
The moment I said it out loud, enunciating each syllable for dear Siri, I felt lighter. In fact, I laughed at myself and at how melodramatic I sounded. Yep - sounded. Had I not been forced to utter it aloud at my phone, I would've continued to take myself waaaaay too seriously. I realized there's nothing wrong with being lame, and that I wasn't really all that depressed because I still had the capacity to laugh at myself. Hearing yourself speak really helps validate the truth of what you're saying.
So I went home, feeling better, because I realized the words I was thinking weren't actually the emotions I was feeling.
I think this is as good a time as any to bring your attention to one of my favourite maxims (it lives in the right rail of this blog as a constant reminder, FYI!). This often helps to ground me and flip situations around when I'm feeling a bit melodramatic:
Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.
It reminds me to take life a little less seriously. (Kind of a more snooty version of #FirstWorldProblems, I guess.)
So next time you're feeling something intense, try to put it into words. It may require more thinking - but that's exactly the point. And if that's not enough to set you straighter, try reading those words out loud. You don't need Siri; you can be your own sounding board.
April 16, 2012
back-up plan (adj.)
So today, after a really wonderful weekend that was productive, sunny, and pleasant, I had somewhat of a nightmarish morning. After a couple of days of feeling satisfied from the work I'd put into my project report, and a couple of days of feeling almost relaxed at coffee dates with my mom and dinner dates with friends, I get hit with an onslaught of stress: Apparently the dreaded Approval Page has come back to haunt me.
Apparently, it's supposed to be in black and white - and not in colour (i.e. the word "Approval" cannot be in maroon as my personal template had for all the headings). It's super frustrating because it had moved through so many hands at this point and no one told me that this wasn't right. It was confirmed my department administrator and I only used colour PDFs of past theses for reference. While I can change the rest of the thesis to suit this requirement by editing the raw file (I've already done this), I can't really fix the Approvals Page as easily since it's an original.
Thankfully, Zahra, my industry supervisor in Montreal, has been so supportive and open to my constant requests for new copies of the Approval Page. Thankfully also, Nancy at the SFSS copy centre has been a total delight and made this process go as smoothly as possible this morning/afternoon (even though it's not too smooth). A couple of my closest friends have also been super supportive, and especially when I needed them, sitting on that dreaded bus ride up the mountain. These people have kept my nerves from getting out of whack and have kept stress at bay for the most part. Just trying to calm myself down and remind myself that it's not the end of the world (and somehow, when I'm on the 135 bus to/from SFU on E Hastings, this perspective is a lot easier to have).
So, I'm thanking my lucky stars for all the good that I have...and for having the privilege to hope. Hope that Purolator will deliver on time, not ship Zahra's envelope to the wrong place, or lose it in transit (bite my tongue). Hope that maybe the Assistant to Theses will take pity or not see the Approvals Page as such a problem. And finally, hope that I'll get all three signatures in by the 27th so that I can graduate...
So my word for today, as I sit in the Student Services centre at the Maggie Benston building in Burnaby, is "back-up plan." I keep remembering that when I went ahead and booked my appointment for the 16th with the intention of submitting it that day (today), I also had a back-up plan. I keep reassuring myself that it'll all be fine, because I planned for a worst case scenario. Unfortunately, it seems to be happening...but hopefully it'll all be fine in the end. It sucks that I'm out of town from Thursday to Tuesday of next week... but I trust that it's all going to be okay because I still have time - not loads of it, but hopefully enough. Otherwise I'll feel like my back-up plan is backing me into a corner.
Fingers crossed! My meeting is in 40 minutes.
Apparently, it's supposed to be in black and white - and not in colour (i.e. the word "Approval" cannot be in maroon as my personal template had for all the headings). It's super frustrating because it had moved through so many hands at this point and no one told me that this wasn't right. It was confirmed my department administrator and I only used colour PDFs of past theses for reference. While I can change the rest of the thesis to suit this requirement by editing the raw file (I've already done this), I can't really fix the Approvals Page as easily since it's an original.
Thankfully, Zahra, my industry supervisor in Montreal, has been so supportive and open to my constant requests for new copies of the Approval Page. Thankfully also, Nancy at the SFSS copy centre has been a total delight and made this process go as smoothly as possible this morning/afternoon (even though it's not too smooth). A couple of my closest friends have also been super supportive, and especially when I needed them, sitting on that dreaded bus ride up the mountain. These people have kept my nerves from getting out of whack and have kept stress at bay for the most part. Just trying to calm myself down and remind myself that it's not the end of the world (and somehow, when I'm on the 135 bus to/from SFU on E Hastings, this perspective is a lot easier to have).
So, I'm thanking my lucky stars for all the good that I have...and for having the privilege to hope. Hope that Purolator will deliver on time, not ship Zahra's envelope to the wrong place, or lose it in transit (bite my tongue). Hope that maybe the Assistant to Theses will take pity or not see the Approvals Page as such a problem. And finally, hope that I'll get all three signatures in by the 27th so that I can graduate...
So my word for today, as I sit in the Student Services centre at the Maggie Benston building in Burnaby, is "back-up plan." I keep remembering that when I went ahead and booked my appointment for the 16th with the intention of submitting it that day (today), I also had a back-up plan. I keep reassuring myself that it'll all be fine, because I planned for a worst case scenario. Unfortunately, it seems to be happening...but hopefully it'll all be fine in the end. It sucks that I'm out of town from Thursday to Tuesday of next week... but I trust that it's all going to be okay because I still have time - not loads of it, but hopefully enough. Otherwise I'll feel like my back-up plan is backing me into a corner.
Fingers crossed! My meeting is in 40 minutes.
April 7, 2012
deadline (n.)
Today, as I take a brief break from formatting my MPub thesis, I bring to you an entry that is mostly dedicated to myself. (Sorry.)
I've been pushing and pushing to get this thing done by April 16th, the day for which I've booked an appointment with the Assistant to Theses at SFU to submit my project report finally. I've been battling the red tape, though, and have spent hours interpreting the convoluted requirements for what consists of a complete thesis package. How do I know if it's "applicable"? Is "suggested" stronger than "optional"? I've fixed style errors, typos, and made it look almost nice. I've sifted through words like a proofreading robot, vowing to never read again.
I've also persisted against the Approvals Page margin problem (thank you fast-ass Purolator and wonderful Zahra at RDC!) and will hopefully have the entire committee's signatures by the end of next week. Now I'm inserting figures into the body of my report (with fingers crossed that I can use them all, as I wait to hear a few answers regarding a couple permissions requests). Once that's done, I'll start getting all the documentation in order, ticking off the list (and checking it twice). Then, off to the printer I go to figure out what "20lb bond paper acid free laser" paper is (maybe I already know) so that I can print it all, stick it in cream-coloured folders with perfect labels on them and submit it at the thesis office.
I've been picturing this scenario over and over again in my head, except that I'm clutching my folders as I run across a finish line. It's a bit less scary than thinking of it as a deadline.
What SFU claims to be "3 steps to submission" really feels more like a marathon - but I'm okay with that. At least I know I'm moving forward, rather than having that dreaded deadline looming over me, as though it's getting closer to me, instead of me chasing it.
So here's to killing the deadline (ironic pun intended) and advocating for the finish line!
Because, if I hit that finish line on April 16th, I am going to be a very happy camper.
Literally.
(Yup, I've decided -come hell or high water- I'm going to Coachella!!)
Of course, I also have a back-up plan, in case I lose the race. I'm going to do another marathon (finish line: April 27th) after I get back on the 24th. But by then, I know I'll win. It's because I will have already figured out what I need to fix in my thesis package because I've failed once already. (Ha! Losing can be winning after all!)
Anywho, gotta run! (Not actually. I'm going to Bojangles to drop them figures in).
Thank you to everyone who's been supporting me through this sometimes-gruesome process. You know who you are because you've seen me act a special kind of crazy-anxious.
xoxx
p.s. Who's joining me at Coachella, weekend 2?
I've been pushing and pushing to get this thing done by April 16th, the day for which I've booked an appointment with the Assistant to Theses at SFU to submit my project report finally. I've been battling the red tape, though, and have spent hours interpreting the convoluted requirements for what consists of a complete thesis package. How do I know if it's "applicable"? Is "suggested" stronger than "optional"? I've fixed style errors, typos, and made it look almost nice. I've sifted through words like a proofreading robot, vowing to never read again.
I've also persisted against the Approvals Page margin problem (thank you fast-ass Purolator and wonderful Zahra at RDC!) and will hopefully have the entire committee's signatures by the end of next week. Now I'm inserting figures into the body of my report (with fingers crossed that I can use them all, as I wait to hear a few answers regarding a couple permissions requests). Once that's done, I'll start getting all the documentation in order, ticking off the list (and checking it twice). Then, off to the printer I go to figure out what "20lb bond paper acid free laser" paper is (maybe I already know) so that I can print it all, stick it in cream-coloured folders with perfect labels on them and submit it at the thesis office.
I've been picturing this scenario over and over again in my head, except that I'm clutching my folders as I run across a finish line. It's a bit less scary than thinking of it as a deadline.
What SFU claims to be "3 steps to submission" really feels more like a marathon - but I'm okay with that. At least I know I'm moving forward, rather than having that dreaded deadline looming over me, as though it's getting closer to me, instead of me chasing it.
So here's to killing the deadline (ironic pun intended) and advocating for the finish line!
Because, if I hit that finish line on April 16th, I am going to be a very happy camper.
Literally.
(Yup, I've decided -come hell or high water- I'm going to Coachella!!)
Of course, I also have a back-up plan, in case I lose the race. I'm going to do another marathon (finish line: April 27th) after I get back on the 24th. But by then, I know I'll win. It's because I will have already figured out what I need to fix in my thesis package because I've failed once already. (Ha! Losing can be winning after all!)
Anywho, gotta run! (Not actually. I'm going to Bojangles to drop them figures in).
Thank you to everyone who's been supporting me through this sometimes-gruesome process. You know who you are because you've seen me act a special kind of crazy-anxious.
xoxx
p.s. Who's joining me at Coachella, weekend 2?
May 6, 2011
patience (n.)
patience - a noun. Though it really should be a verb.
Over the last three months, I've been putting my design skills to work by offering my volunteer services to Mothership Stories Society, a non-profit organized by Marilyn Norry, which dedicates itself in collecting stories about mothers as written by their children in order to archive a valuable history of ordinary women, which otherwise may be forgotten. Without such efforts, legacies of interesting, perseverant women whose lives tell us about women's roles and experiences and the times in which they've lived, may never be recorded.
Today, after weeks of editing, typesetting, caption-collecting, resolution-fixing, exporting, merging, and flattening, we finally printed a final version of: My Mother's Story: the originals.
[Stay tuned for news on where to buy the book!]
The seven hour ordeal (made all the less chaotic and stressful by Oscar's Books' Adam and Barry), entailed changing margins last-minute for 120 minutes, fixing files to fit new printer specifications, and reformatting photos till we got them just right. We chose paper stock, grew impatient with the printer at times (oh cream paper why must you curl?!), but eventually came out with a breathtaking book that just made us all fuzzy inside.
During the process, I also just learned the importance of patience and how it helps to find the humour and joy in stressful situations so that you can stay functional. Find contentment through patience instead of making things worse by giving in to impatience, its evil sibling.
I also realized why, when saying patience, we're kind of saying "pay" "ssh" "sense".
Pay
Without patience, you pay the price. If you lose it, get hasty and decide "oh whoooo caaaares", it bites you in the ass. I thankfully didn't experience this today, but was nonetheless tempted to give in to this illogical bargain.
You also have to pay a certain amount of attention and find focus, energy, diligence, and good stamina in order to get patience to really work its magic.
Ssh
You have to keep that little voice in your head that's screaming "WTF %^&#@!!" and other such unhelpful and wasteful filth from clouding your mind. You must shush that angry, impatient voice so that you can keep your focus on what's really at hand - what really matters in the end. You don't want years of dedication and months of hard work to go to waste just because you lost your nerve right at the end.
Sense
This has a dual aspect. In one way, while impatient, your senses become a little crazy and over-irritated, for lack of a better word. You're waiting for the printer to print 234 pages at a time, the glue is heating up more slowly than you'd like, your stomach's grumbling, and you feel your blood sugar is plummeting because you just had to get those margins right before you deserved a break. (Yup, I'm referring to hangriness here again- I'm quite susceptible to it as you can see).
Your senses become a little crazy when you're impatient - the lights are too bright, and you lose sense of time. You start seeing page numbers where they shouldn't be (and really aren't).
(Thankfully, however, I also became hyper-aware and could still tell which "final version" was really the final version; I also somehow still retained a deft hand clicking through InDesign with super-alien precision.)
In another way, it also makes sense to be patient. It's always more efficient than impatience - and a whole lot more fun. Though we spent close to five hours at Oscar's today, waiting and printing, and proofing, and changing and printing again, we had a lot of laughs. I got to meet some new people, learn new things about distribution, eat a cookie and a mandarin, watch the Expresso machine in action, pose for pictures, and to our amazement and joy, finally see a pretty copy come out, with a smile on my face.
Here's to a job well done! And please let me know if you'd like a copy :)
And because it's so fitting:
Here's to all the mothers of the world for being the most patient people on the planet.
Over the last three months, I've been putting my design skills to work by offering my volunteer services to Mothership Stories Society, a non-profit organized by Marilyn Norry, which dedicates itself in collecting stories about mothers as written by their children in order to archive a valuable history of ordinary women, which otherwise may be forgotten. Without such efforts, legacies of interesting, perseverant women whose lives tell us about women's roles and experiences and the times in which they've lived, may never be recorded.Today, after weeks of editing, typesetting, caption-collecting, resolution-fixing, exporting, merging, and flattening, we finally printed a final version of: My Mother's Story: the originals.
[Stay tuned for news on where to buy the book!]
The seven hour ordeal (made all the less chaotic and stressful by Oscar's Books' Adam and Barry), entailed changing margins last-minute for 120 minutes, fixing files to fit new printer specifications, and reformatting photos till we got them just right. We chose paper stock, grew impatient with the printer at times (oh cream paper why must you curl?!), but eventually came out with a breathtaking book that just made us all fuzzy inside.During the process, I also just learned the importance of patience and how it helps to find the humour and joy in stressful situations so that you can stay functional. Find contentment through patience instead of making things worse by giving in to impatience, its evil sibling.
I also realized why, when saying patience, we're kind of saying "pay" "ssh" "sense".
Pay
Without patience, you pay the price. If you lose it, get hasty and decide "oh whoooo caaaares", it bites you in the ass. I thankfully didn't experience this today, but was nonetheless tempted to give in to this illogical bargain.
You also have to pay a certain amount of attention and find focus, energy, diligence, and good stamina in order to get patience to really work its magic.
Ssh
You have to keep that little voice in your head that's screaming "WTF %^&#@!!" and other such unhelpful and wasteful filth from clouding your mind. You must shush that angry, impatient voice so that you can keep your focus on what's really at hand - what really matters in the end. You don't want years of dedication and months of hard work to go to waste just because you lost your nerve right at the end.
Sense
 |
| paper, ink, glue to bind! |
Your senses become a little crazy when you're impatient - the lights are too bright, and you lose sense of time. You start seeing page numbers where they shouldn't be (and really aren't).
(Thankfully, however, I also became hyper-aware and could still tell which "final version" was really the final version; I also somehow still retained a deft hand clicking through InDesign with super-alien precision.)
 |
| "Pop! goes the weasel!" |
Here's to a job well done! And please let me know if you'd like a copy :)
And because it's so fitting:
Here's to all the mothers of the world for being the most patient people on the planet.
Happy early Mother's Day!
 |
| My mom and I. |
December 22, 2010
resume (n.)
Having neglected this blog for over a month, I feel I've kind of failed at this whole writing thing. Blame busy student life, which goes something like this:
Curriculum Vitae for Fall, 2010
Nov. 28 - Dec. 13 Essayist, Contract
Consumed with XML workflows and articulating their increased presence in today's publishing market
Dec. 3 Lobbyist, "Vish for Lish!" campaign
Attempting to represent Gordon Lish in the controversy about his editing relationship with the short-story writer, Raymond Carver. (Read The New Yorker article to read about what happened.)
Sept. 17 - Nov. 8 "Publisher", HivePress
Mock-book design, -P&Ls, -contracts and more mockery!
Oct. 11 - Oct. 29 "Designer", PUB602
More mock graphic designing - e.g. Talonbooks' Spring catalogue. Vonnegut's Hocus Pocus. And so it goes.
Sept. - Dec. Bedtime Reader, Freelance
The Autograph Man by Zadie Smith; Player One - Douglas Coupland; The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran; Beautiful Losers - Leonard Cohen
Sept. Metadata Geek (real work)
Generating ONIX files for BNC's Biblioshare, CCSP Press and S&D Publishers.
See? My Fall resumé justifies my blogging fail - though, I have officially resumed blogging! Woohoo!
September 10, 2010
workload (n.)
A new month has just begun, bringing with it a new workload.
I started the MPub program I've been raving about to all my friends - and it's fantastic.
I felt a rush of euphoria walking out of the Harbour Centre today, feeling like I was living the dream.
For once it was MY dream!
However, the euphoric moments are yes, mere moments, and my brain somewhat explodes with the thoughts of the workload ahead of me.
However, in the wise words of my friend Alyssa: ONE THING AT A TIME.
And so today, I did a bunch of singular things, which have accumulated to be, well, quite a lot and very important.
I've time-managed as well as I can by purchasing my go-to anti-procrastination device: the personal planner. Now, I always tweak these things to suit my use (pasting calendar spreads, dog-earing pages, making mini bookmarks, and filling it with words of encouragement). And today I did just that. It was an impeccable feeling to know this new school year is Starting Right.
After printing a manuscript for an editing assignment we have due next week, (and after my heart fell into the deep recesses of my stomach when the printer just wouldn't stop printing), I began reading.
I read a lot.
And I'm going to read a lot tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the rest of the month
and semester
and then I will no longer have
the time
to
procrastinate
with
poetry.
(and with blogging?)
Remember, word of theweek month semester: workload
and:
workload - load = work
and this is why it is important to love what you do. And I am thrilled to admit that I am loving the work in MPub.
Now, I'm off to take the load off and read more!
I started the MPub program I've been raving about to all my friends - and it's fantastic.
I felt a rush of euphoria walking out of the Harbour Centre today, feeling like I was living the dream.
For once it was MY dream!
However, the euphoric moments are yes, mere moments, and my brain somewhat explodes with the thoughts of the workload ahead of me.
However, in the wise words of my friend Alyssa: ONE THING AT A TIME.
And so today, I did a bunch of singular things, which have accumulated to be, well, quite a lot and very important.
I've time-managed as well as I can by purchasing my go-to anti-procrastination device: the personal planner. Now, I always tweak these things to suit my use (pasting calendar spreads, dog-earing pages, making mini bookmarks, and filling it with words of encouragement). And today I did just that. It was an impeccable feeling to know this new school year is Starting Right.
After printing a manuscript for an editing assignment we have due next week, (and after my heart fell into the deep recesses of my stomach when the printer just wouldn't stop printing), I began reading.
I read a lot.
And I'm going to read a lot tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the rest of the month
and semester
and then I will no longer have
the time
to
procrastinate
with
poetry.
(and with blogging?)
Remember, word of the
and:
workload - load = work
and this is why it is important to love what you do. And I am thrilled to admit that I am loving the work in MPub.
Now, I'm off to take the load off and read more!
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