![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
May 14, 2007 Progress Notes:
"Mister Oak"
Words today: 1000.
Words total: 1000.
Reason for stopping: Hit a slowdown, and probably ought to get to bed.
Liquid Refreshment: Water.
Munchies: None
Exercise: About an hour's walking.
Mail: Contracts from Strange Horizons, dispatched right back.
Darling du Jour: "She's just a girl," gossiped the rosebushes, one among each other. They were ill-kept and rambling, and thus prone to malicious talk.
(Actually, I have lots of darlings today. The whole thing's a darling. But this is the only one that makes sense all by itself.)
Tyop du Jour: N/A
Words MS Word Doesn't Know: N/A
Mean Things: The subtle puncturing of a beautiful illusion.
Research Roundup: Dryads, picture windows, Celtic tree symbolism.
Books in progress: Michael Chabon, The Yiddish Policemen's Union; William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The glamour: Did both a bank and post office run on the way to the first day of class, then...had class. I guess I need intellectual stimulus to have wordcount...
I've mentioned this to some of you, but not formally: today began the Shakespeare Memorial Deathmarch of 2007.
Being, that I am taking summer courses. One of them is Shakespeare, which is normally a full-year course (3 hours a week, over 8 months/26 weeks), but is being compressed into six weeks. So that's 3 hours a day, four days a week for the next six weeks. We're doing a play every two days. I read all of Midsummer's tonight.
To complement that, two evenings a week will be Poetry and Prose 1600-1660, which consists of several of Shakespeare's buds* and sixty pages of reading a week. The professor is very British, has a very British sense of humour, had us talk about Marlowe, Raleigh, and Dunne poems in conversation tonight, and termed the Thirty Years' War "a great big clusterfuck". We like him. That will go all summer, to early August.
So.
This is my Norton's Shakespeare. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My Norton's Shakespeare is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.
Tonight, I will sleep my Norton's Shakespeare. I will give my Norton's Shakespeare a girl's name...
(Updates from the Deathmarch will follow. *g*)
*And then we hit the two and a half weeks of Paradise Lost in late July, but I'm really trying not to think about that.
"Mister Oak"
Words today: 1000.
Words total: 1000.
Reason for stopping: Hit a slowdown, and probably ought to get to bed.
Liquid Refreshment: Water.
Munchies: None
Exercise: About an hour's walking.
Mail: Contracts from Strange Horizons, dispatched right back.
Darling du Jour: "She's just a girl," gossiped the rosebushes, one among each other. They were ill-kept and rambling, and thus prone to malicious talk.
(Actually, I have lots of darlings today. The whole thing's a darling. But this is the only one that makes sense all by itself.)
Tyop du Jour: N/A
Words MS Word Doesn't Know: N/A
Mean Things: The subtle puncturing of a beautiful illusion.
Research Roundup: Dryads, picture windows, Celtic tree symbolism.
Books in progress: Michael Chabon, The Yiddish Policemen's Union; William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The glamour: Did both a bank and post office run on the way to the first day of class, then...had class. I guess I need intellectual stimulus to have wordcount...
I've mentioned this to some of you, but not formally: today began the Shakespeare Memorial Deathmarch of 2007.
Being, that I am taking summer courses. One of them is Shakespeare, which is normally a full-year course (3 hours a week, over 8 months/26 weeks), but is being compressed into six weeks. So that's 3 hours a day, four days a week for the next six weeks. We're doing a play every two days. I read all of Midsummer's tonight.
To complement that, two evenings a week will be Poetry and Prose 1600-1660, which consists of several of Shakespeare's buds* and sixty pages of reading a week. The professor is very British, has a very British sense of humour, had us talk about Marlowe, Raleigh, and Dunne poems in conversation tonight, and termed the Thirty Years' War "a great big clusterfuck". We like him. That will go all summer, to early August.
So.
This is my Norton's Shakespeare. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My Norton's Shakespeare is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.
Tonight, I will sleep my Norton's Shakespeare. I will give my Norton's Shakespeare a girl's name...
(Updates from the Deathmarch will follow. *g*)
*And then we hit the two and a half weeks of Paradise Lost in late July, but I'm really trying not to think about that.
