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Archive for the ‘feminism and romance’ Category

It is coming up on the first six months of my PhD. A friend said that studying/researching for a PhD is an apprenticeship. It’s about learning to be an academic. Once the PhD is achieved there’s more work ahead if academia is the choice of occupation. Or more accurately, if one is lucky enough to get to work in academia afterwards. The message I get here at Uni is there is little work for PhD candidates after awarding of the degree and what jobs there are go to those who are known etc. Mine PhD is in creative writing so year… This is rather depressing really.

Coming from the public sector where in principle jobs are gained on merit, I can’t help react to the idea that it’s not the same outside of the APS. However, I try not to think about it and just get on with the work. Maybe that’s a skewed point of view. Anyway, I enjoy the work, or the research if you please. Perhaps I have faith in people. Perhaps I don’t know what my long term plans are. Perhaps I don’t believe what people say…

So, I have probably rabbited on about this paper I’ve been working on for months now. Yes, it has dragged on and on and on until I think I’m going to go insane or that the paper development, commentary/edits etc will never end. Not doing things right the first time feeds into my internal ‘I’m not good enough motif’. Lucky for me I’m also very persistent and somewhat driven. I have an excellent supervisor who doesn’t let me off the hook. Finally I think there is sunshine on my horizon.

My paper started off with everything I’d found to date about my topic. All shoved in there with big waving banners. Nothing given too much depth. Like a bit of jumping up and down at the beach and saying look at this castle I made before the wave comes in and washes it all away. That sort of thing…

Then my supervisor comments on the paper. In fact it’s an infestation of comment boxes. There’s something not quite right with my structure, he says. Perhaps I should thin it out a bit… so something along those lines.

I chuck out bits of the paper like flicking lint across the table and watching them fly off into the wind. Next go, mmm still not quite right with the structure. Perhaps I should just talk about three or four books in more detail. Perhaps I should reread them…do deeper textual analysis. (I then read some papers on textual analysis). This time I get the scissors and cut the paper like a string of paper dolls, a concertina of vague shapes snapping back and forth. I have to build it up again. I’m told not to throw anything out but start a new document. All that stuff is good, just not in this one paper.

I return to my key texts and start the process of really examining them, taking notes and figuring out how they work and how the issues are discussed within them. It takes heaps of time.  I’ve also continued researching books and journal articles, adding more and more to the critique of romance and feminist critique of romance and anything else that I find interesting about romance. I read  books, thank you Laura Vivanco and Pamela Regis.

Then I find I have a big, huge, lengthy paper that is well over my maximum word limit. I’m struggling with the structure. I’m working late on the paper at uni without even realizing it.  Crazy!

So I know I have to restructure the damn thing. It’s too long and definitely unwieldy.

My supervisor is not available for structure rescuing and nor should he be. I know I can do it. I need distance. I read a paper on Untamed by Jodi McAlister and the structure is so straight forward, bam, bam, bam. I look at my paper. I stop wailing and pulling my hair and think-you can do that. It’s possible. Go with your gut instinct.

I take the paper home with me on the weekend but I don’t look at it. I need space. I go to a funeral and find I’m not up for working on it. All good I say. Distance and thinking is what is required. I talk to my daughter about the paper and about structure generally. Then I go into uni on Tuesday and just do it. The need to cut helps me. I cut things and try to keep it focused. I rearrange, put funny headings everywhere, try to make it flow into a new form. To me I think I’ve done it. I’ve improved it. I’ve focused it. I’m getting the idea.

I realise I am learning. I have been told by the other PhD candidates here at Uni that the first paper is the worst. It’s my first attempt at putting the research, part of it at least, into words and for others to see it. I feel my mind shifting gears. It doesn’t mean I won’t have structure issues again, but I probably won’t quail as much as  I did this first time.

So yesterday I sent the paper off to my supervisor again. It will need a careful read and some tweaking but… My supervisor said the structure was better…I got positive vibes!!! I’m so excited by this. It’s not world domination (there are no spreadsheets involved) and it’s not the cure for cancer but it’s my paper….yay!

Okay so maybe I should calm down…but I am an apprentice. The apprenticeship grind is long. But maybe there is a small improvement in me right now.me with glasses

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Recently, I was offered the opportunity to drive to Victoria and pick up a collection of Mills & Boon books. These were Grace’s books, her romance collection. Grace died about a year ago. This collection consisted of six 80 litre tubs of Mills & Boon. I couldn’t even lift one of these tubs. They are like gold to me for my PhD studies of feminism in popular romance fiction.

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This collection is so exciting for me. So many books. I had so much fun just looking at what was there, discovering. Grace’s collection as originally larger, but some were given away before they ever came my way. However, what I did get held amazing variety.

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Grace’s friend, author Lisa Ireland, told me she didn’t know Grace was a such a huge romance reader until after she died, but her family were well aware. Lisa said that Grace had a wicked sense of humour and a quick laugh. And she was determined. She defied her diagnosis for a very long time.

This collection spans the mid 70s until 2012-13, with lovely gems from the past with lots from the future. I believe Grace loved books, her books as much as I cherish this collection. I hope I’ll get to read them all. I believe Grace grew this collection because she loved the genre, loved reading and a bit like me, a bit of a hoarder. The hoarding baton has passed to me.

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Her brother John said of Grace.

What can I say about Grace Fastuca? How to sum up her life? Grace many Aunty a universal word. The fun Aunty, the wise Aunty. Whether you were or weren’t family.

Grace didn’t judge anyone. Many people have said how she helped them be a better person and this wasn’t just about staring death in the face. It was about taking a person a face value. Not talking down to people, really hearing what they say. About being in and making the most of every moment.

Ten years ago Grace was told she had six months to live and would miss her 40th birthday. So what did Grace do about that? She organized a very memorable 40 minus 3 party to be enjoyed with family and friends.

When Grace wanted to enjoy moments away from the hustle and bustle she went to Anglesea. Nothing can be said that will do justice to the connection she felt for the area, not to mention the amount of Mills & Boon books she bought at second hand stores there.

Grace knew as much about your life as you wanted her to know and vice versa. She was and will continue to be a great inspiration to everyone who knew her.

Grace was one of the funniest people I have ever known. As time passes we all realize how much we miss her laughter, her voice and her ability to cut through it all.

Everyone deserves an Aunty Grace.

Thank you Grace for this lovely collection which means so much to me. I must say that this collection complements the one started by Doreen Watt, from a gift of a selection of retro Mills & Boon to start my reading, which was augmented by Lifeline Book Fair purchases again assisted by Doreen. And also a collection given to me by Debbie Phillips, mostly of Silhouette romances. It is also amazing!

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It took me a few days to sort through this amazing collection. First I just had to look and get excited as I looked at each one. Touched it, wondered over it and then reached for the next one. Then I started roughly sorting the books.

IMG_6500There were many double Harlequin Mills & Boon and I just didn’t know how to file these as they were two different authors and there were so many books. These found their way back into the tubs for later sorting. Then there were a handful of non-genre books and single title books that were more historical romance. These I’ve put aside. I filled one tub with medical romances as I’m not focusing on them. Matthew argues that I should look at them too. I might just not now. Not enough shelves for starts. Then I put them in alphabetical order. I found books from authors I knew about but didn’t have books for. I found I had piles of books from particular authors who I didn’t know but where obviously quite popular, like Sara Craven, Sandra Kendrick, Anne McAlister,  Lindsay Armstrong etc. I also gained a few from authors I did have books for like Charlotte Lamb, Robyn Donald, Daphne Clair and Penny Jordan. My collection of these authors has expanded.

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I had just collected two new book cases so the books went straight in there. My lovely partner, Matthew, lugged the books inside. To my surprise I found them in the lounge and then I was a lost woman and all my plans for the day went out the window. Although they don’t all fit in the shelves atm.

I had to take a break from the sorting as it was physically demanding. All that crawling around on the floor, squatting, crouching, leaning over etc. I scored some Helen Bianchin and then I realized that she was an author I read when I was 19 when living in New Zealand. When I looked through the books I  saw that I had that book. THAT BOOK! And then when I looked up Helen’s bibliography I realized it was her first. It is a great book too. I love it. So I lay back on the couch and read The Willing Heart by Helen Bianchin, then Vines of Splendour and a more recent one, The Marriage Arrangement. I do note though as I’m collecting books in Australia, that there is a bias towards Australian and New Zealand authors. No problems there.

In amongst the Mills & Boon were some older Harlequins, and quite a few Silhouettes. These I have merged with my Debbie Phillips collection in the other book cases. I think there’s a thousand books there. I don’t know. But it’s awesome and the collection will be put to good use in the PhD reading and for enjoyment and my hoarding genes are well aligned.

 

 

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This morning I went to the dentist to get my chipped tooth fixed. I now have my smile back. It was a small chip to my front tooth, but it happened just after I gave up my extras health cover. Anyway, the damage wasn’t too bad financially. I will have to be careful about what I eat in future. Given my weight gain, I could probably stand no eating!

I’m at the stage of my PhD where the more I read the more stupid I feel. There is so much to know about the world and I know I haven’t even touched a 0.000001 per cent of it. I feel like if I open my mouth something stupid is going to come out. Or does come out. I know this is untrue of course! I’m not entirely stupid! (just marginally or slightly stupid, lol) It’s just that I’m dwelling in some emotional gutter where PhD candidates fall after the first splurge of excitement. I want to know everything about my topic! I can only do a small portion of what I’m aiming for. Live with it!

Writing/drafting an academic paper was like sliding a stiletto around my insides while singing the national anthem. A relief when it is over. I will be getting comments from my supervisor to get it to the next stage so I’ll just put the stiletto over here so it’s ready for when I need it.

I had a wonderful long series of dreams/thoughts about my creative piece for the PhD. It was the most rounded piece of imagination in relation to it, that I might even draft a rough outline. Today, I’ve printed out an article that the lovely Russell Kirkpatrick recommended to me after I was whining about how hard Gender Trouble by Judith Butler was to understand, particularly when she starts dissecting the psychoanalysts. Butler’s book inspired lots of creative thoughts for my fiction piece. I may not get it all into my head, but it was thought provoking. The article is Taking Butler elsewhere: performativities, spatialities and subjectivities by Gregson, N and Rose, G, 199. It’s right here in front of me.

Another issue I find is that I have to reread articles and books. I take notes, of course, but then on rereading I see other things that I’d missed before. This is because the reading expands your understanding and then you read something else and make further connections until you get an ‘aha’ moment.  I have a lot of reading done, heaps more to do but the thought I may have to read it again. Eep! Add to the that the suspicion that my reading mojo is not quite up to par yet. Retention is difficult at times. I need to find the right balance of stress and relaxation so that my retention is better.

I have a few retro romances waiting for me to read them. I find I am developing preferences and dislikes. I don’t think movie star love stories thrill me much. The lifestyles of the uber rich likewise, unless written by Roberta Leigh because she excels at that stuff. The stories with  a young, ignorant nanny employed in the Bahamas doesn’t do it for me either, but there might be exceptions. I don’t mind the cowboy romances. Usually the dude is not a rich guy, machoing over someone. This is based on only limited number of books so far. Marriage of convenience stories are usually not bad. A lot of my selection appears to be Australian and New Zealand romances (funny that) and they are usually different from the English ones. It appears I have no Helen Bianchin so I’ll have to get some of those.

In other news, I went to listen to Dan O’Malley being interviewed by Colin Steele last night about his new book, Stiletto. The theatre was packed. Dan was amusing (as ever) and the signing queue long.

The Goodreads giveaway for Argenterra is progressing well. I’ve not ever done one before. I will post back here and let you know how it goes and what it means in the wash.

The link to the Giveaway is here.

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Recently I’ve been working on my first academic paper. This got me thinking about stuff. My previous post on Cherokee Thunder (here)  got me thinking about the positive slant in that book about men, while addressing the serious issue of domestic violence. The slant that says ‘not all men’. Needless to say, the current book I’m reading features a heroine who was abused by her husband!

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I thought because romance is a positive story as it’s going to have a happy ever after, that there is this delicate space there that issues, like domestic violence, can be discussed in a safe way. There might be triggers for people who have suffered domestic violence, but they know it’s going to turn out all right. In this positive way the ramifications can be looked at–the ways in which domestic violence (including emotional abuse) can make a woman feel, how it can take away your feelings of self-worth, personal safety, confidence and strength. (Child abuse has similar effects) How domestic violence can endanger your life and those of your children. It’s nasty and people generally don’t like talking about it real life.

There is the guilt and the self talk, the blame and the ‘I deserve it’ type of mentality. In a romance that features this, these issues can be teased out in a manner that allows for a positive resolution. So romance fiction is a fantasy. Some people don’t want to read books with this domestic violence content (which is normally post domestic violence, not in progress), some people do, because in these stories the heroine gets over her trauma, she learns to be confident, to be herself, and sometimes it’s the hero that shows her that love can be nurturing, kind, respectful and not smothering emotion.

I’m sure I’m not the first person to think this!

For me, romance novels can make me think about positive things. They let me imagine that a woman can have a great first time (unlike my own), or that a man can be trusted, that he can be gentle and also strong, that sex can be wonderful and that love exists in the world and maybe in my own life. Romance fiction can be healing to those of us who have lived the other side: Rape. Fists. Beatings. Low self esteem.

I’m not saying romance novels are the only things that do this, I’m just saying that they can.

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A fun part of my PhD is reading romances. Mostly I’m concentrating on retros–1970s and 1980s but I want to read up to and including current titles.

The President of the Australian Romance Readers Association (ARRA), Debbie Phillips, gave me four boxes of books. These were mostly Harlequin Silhouette novels from the late 1980s and early 1990s. I’ve read two so far.

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Then I unpacked the books!

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And then I didn’t have the heart to put them back in the box so I bought some bookshelves for them. (I’m not supposed to be doing that being frugal. Alas, the savings were attacked!)

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I’ve read one cowboy romance by Lass Small called No Trespassers Allowed and I enjoyed that a lot. I even sniffled a bit at the end. It wasn’t feminist but it did discuss gender roles and was almost entirely told from the male perspective. I noticed I have about 5 more of Lass Small’s titles. She’s deceased now but published a lot in her life time.

Cherokee Thunder by Rachel Lee was published in 1992/93 and is from the Silhouette Jasmine imprint. It appears to be slightly longer than the traditional category romance. I’m sure someone can tell me all about that line. I’ve not read Rachel Lee or heard of her before. A quick look on line tells me she is still writing and is using the same setting, Conard County. And she’s won awards etc. I’m not surprised.

For someone reading with an eye for feminist or social issues in these book like I am, there was heaps in this book to interest me. It’s main theme is domestic violence and the secondary theme is racism. There was also some discussion about being a working woman, being independent, being a wife and mother and liking housework. The kind of book this is-set in a small county in Wyoming- being a house wife is a natural aspiration.

I’m not sure how politically correct the half-Cherokee character/heroe, Micah Parish, is but I found him to be represented in a very positive way.This is a character who is solitary, cut off from family, both his white and his First Nation side. He is honorable and emotionally amoured and very gentle.  I ‘heart’ him very much.

Faith, the heroine is a battered wife. She’s not ordinary, run of the mill, battered wife either. She’s seriously battered, stabbed, brutalised…you name it and her ex husband is a crim and an ex cop and a psycho!. Six months pregnant and her ex has even tried to carve the baby out of her. Seriously, scary, stuff!

She’s the frightened kitten, small, petite and hurting. Micah is a big man and he’s got a soft spot for strays. She may be battered but with his caring way, she’s able to find her spirit and over come her timidity. Never though is her abuse trivialised. It is discussed throughout that she’ll have flashbacks (she does) and that it will take time to heal.

As I read this I could see that there could be other stories in this setting. There were some interesting male characters but I haven’t looked up to see if this was a first or a third in a series.

Faith in her reminiscence about life reflects that she’s been betrayed. She was brought up to be a wife and mother and all she got was  abuse. Her stepfather had conditioned her to have low self esteem and told her she deserved a beating. The representation of the abused woman in this story was very accurate to my mind. It takes someone very special to help her. And man does Micah do that.  As I read this I was thinking this is really good. This would make a great movie.

The story seemed to me to be predominantly from the male point of view, except it wasn’t. It was a shared point of view, slipping between Micah and Faith within scenes. It was smoothly done. The only other time I’ve seen this style was in Cory Daniels The Last T’en. It is certainly different from the pseudo omnicient/weird quasi from the male perspective that some of the other retro Mills & Boon had. (apparently before the 1980s they couldn’t use the male PoV)

What I loved about this book (and being a victim of abuse myself) is that it’s so positive. The message here is that there not all men are the same. That even a big, hard man can be tender and kind. It’s such a powerful message. I know Micah is a constructed male. A hero drawn from a woman’s imagination. But I can’t understand how something like this can be denigrated, the way romance fiction, is generally denigrated. It’s a healing story. So there are so romantic foibles-some things the hero says a man probably never would, but still…

I recall JD Robb’s In death series and I remember being so impressed that (Nora Roberts) discussed child abuse in the story line. The unspeakable trauma that the main character, Eve Dallas, went through as a child is revealed slowly over the series and I was so heartened that she discussed that topic. It’s not a nice topic but it happens and it’s important.

I’m still at the beginning on my retro reading. It’s been an interesting and enjoyable experience so far.

Cherokee Thunder was a touching tale. Thank you Rachel Lee for the lovely piece of fiction.

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Today marks the end of my working life in the Australian Public Service. It’s my last pay day. I can’t begin to express how big a change this is for me at this time of my life. I gave up my big paying job, my ‘social capital’ as an educated woman and well-paid over spender/consumer. I gave up building my nest egg and putting heaps of money into my house, or using it to go traveling or just buying shit. I’m sure this will bother me in future, but now I don’t have regrets. (I’m pretty scared about not having money but its’ not like I’ll have none just less! Okay a lot less. A $100,000 less on paper.)

The bottom line was my arthritic spine was making my life pretty miserable and I wanted to spend what productive time I have doing what I want, while I can.

Upside, I can now talk about politics and stupid things that bother me without being threatened with the sack.

I think doing the PhD allowed me not to think about anything but the Phd. It gave me something to put my mental claws in. I am enjoying it. Now, I didn’t get a stipend so that makes things tougher financially. Not that stipends are huge, but it would have helped. Needless to say I’m going to apply again (and fill out the forms correctly this time) at the end of the year. But I have to face the fact that this is it. It’s me, my superannuation and my mortgage. I have the lovely Matthew but I don’t want to impose on him at all, so I’ll be paying my way on the household stuff. My life decisions shouldn’t be reducing his quality of lifestyle.

Then there’s the writing. Still a big part of my  life. The self publishing/Indie publishing thing well I have to see where that takes me.

My previous post I spoke about Print on Demand publishing. I have made my first stupid mistake that cost me money. Not a lot of money, but still I already paid that bugger and had to pay it again. And today is when the money just stops!

You see I found a typo on the very last line of my acknowledgements. It was one letter on a page that maybe no one would read. So I changed the files (I haven’t done iBooks yet as I need a Mac!). For everything it wasn’t a problem, except of Ingram Sparks. I didn’t realise they were going to charge me for the set up fee again, even for the epub file. They charge US $25 to upload your epub file and another $25 for the print. I think other places like Smashwords (which I didn’t use) doesn’t charge.  So fingers burnt. If I waited until other people reported typos then I could have done a lot at the same time, but no I had to change this one letter for about $60 Australian. So lesson learnt.

I’m not complaining that people have to be paid to do their job. Fair enough. I’m complaining that I was stupid, didn’t even think about it and got my fingers burnt.

Createspace hasn’t charged me to reload the print file but I have to go through the review process again. Lesson make sure the file is typo free (it’s really hard) and if you find a typo and it’s a wee thing live with it. That’s what you had to do in the old off-set days.

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I’ve always known about subjectivity. I like something. The next person doesn’t. Sometimes I’m at a loss as why they just don’t get that fab book or that amazing TV series. It’s subjective. Right.

So what does that mean exactly?

This is a self-exploration so I don’t have any academic texts to back this up, except maybe a vague reference to Bourdieu-type thinking such as ‘reflexivity’ and ‘habitus’ (but I’m new to this so don’t roast me)

I’ve been reading retro romances right. A few of them make me angry, uneasy or just bored. Most I love for many reasons. I was thinking about the ones that trigger my dislike.

For instance, creepy boss love affair stories. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. Why is this so? Office romances happen. My previous partner was once my boss, but not my boss when we got together. Actually being a workmake is probably what allowed us to get together because it wouldn’t have happened that otherwise. Not that I had the hots for him when he was my boss. Anyway….whole subject awkward!!! So why then do these stories creep me out that little bit. I had been thinking before I recollected my office romance that I didn’t fancy any of my bosses (apologies) but yeah…nah!

When I got my first office job in 1976 with a stockbroker, they were all like fuddy, duddy old men and one fuddy duddy old lady (first female stockbroker!). The girls weren’t allowed to wear pants. Yeah that’s how conservative they were. I remember one day coming in wearing a jump suit. My job was to give the big boss his coffee as soon as he sat down, otherwise yelling would ensue. So I romp in with a coffee and a good morning smile. I get quizzed about what I’m wearing. I say, “It’s a jump suit.” The boss says,”Next time you wear that you can jump out the window.” Anyway, I digress. Memory digging will do that.

This morning I remembered my job before the office job. I had a short stint as a hairdressing apprentice and I was sexually harassed. I was dragged into the change room by the owner of a hairdressing chain and quizzed about my sex life. It was weird. He didn’t touch me. He made me very uncomfortable and I was at a loss at what to say. What sex positions do you like? Do you like having sex? etc. I was bloody 15! I kept clear of him and was sacked soon after.  Actually some of these questions he asked  and approaches are in those dark, Italian type retro romances. The salon I worked in at the firm did contain a harasser.My bestie at the time also had an apprenticeship and was molested often by her hairdresser boss who was married.

Oh dear! I’ve just remembered another job where that happened. In New Zealand, I worked for a car company in the service department. I was the only woman and I was touched up and perved on all the time and commented on. Finally I stood up to them and then they got the shits with me. Lucky I quit no long after.

So while my many years in the public service provided a harassment free workplace , there were times in my dark past when it wasn’t so. And these retro stories take me back to that time in a big way.

The other thing that I find that triggers me is the violence. Just about all the books have the man grabbing the woman by the upper arms or shoulders and shaking her. Lucky they didn’t break the woman’s neck. Anyway, one particular story where the woman cried out in pain. He was really hurting her. And he’s like I’m sorry, it’s just that I love you and want you only to be mine. I’m like egads! Domestic Violence! All my flags go up. It had been a promising story until then. My note say something like. ‘Creepy ending with potential abuser!’

I grew up with domestic violence and I’ve experienced it first hand, especially the jealous boyfriend who broke in to where I was living and smashed me up. So yeah. Subjectivity!

I’m sure I’ll find more things that affect my objectivity as I read the retro and contemporary romance fiction. I certainly found that objectivity can be difficult to maintain when I read the article by Peter Darbyshire about the Love Inspired imprint! A few posts ago.

If I apply the above to other readers then it is easier to understand why people react in different ways to books or films. They are shaped to a large extent by their experiences and their environment, like I have been. I try to overcome this when I’m aware of it.  If anything, study has lead me to ask these questions of myself. Why do I think that? Or Why do I have that reaction?

 

 

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Last week I worked out that I was being too intense and trying too hard and that I’d burn out. Today after a four day weekend, I’m feeling relaxed but alert.

Today’s chore is to review all the research proposal material to submit it for ethics approval. The ethics approval process is very long. I would have given up on it I think if not for my supervisor Tony knowing what was to go where. Thanks Tony! I want to ask some romance readers and writers questions but I have to do the same process as if I was going to take tissue samples from them and combine their DNA with animals. Sigh!

But now that it is close to being done, I’m feeling quite good about it all. I would like a year of researching books and academic articles before formulating my questions but alas I have to think them up now. At present I’m hunting for some definitions of strong, female heroine in relation to popular romance. If you see one please give me a hoy! I’ll need this to do my introductory seminar but it would also be useful for the questionnaires.

When I’ve tidied up the above papers…quite a few of them, I need to start working on a paper to be included in a conference. I don’t get to present this paper as there are too many other people wanting too and well I’m just starting out so I’m at the bottom end of the pecking order. It is fantastic though that there is so much romance scholarship that there is an oversupply of presenters. However, I can write the paper so it can be peer reviewed etc. I wrote an extract in February. Now I have to get my head back into that space and write the bloody paper.

Meanwhile reading lots of articles etc which make ideas percolate all the time and sends my mind into hyperspace and back again so rapidly I spin on the spot.

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Me, mother of swords, Queen of food

so I’m just doing the day in the life of a PhD candidate thing because that’s what I do these days.

PS We just blitz-watched Game of Throne season five. Nooo. Not Jon Snow!

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Since my last post I’ve been reading and researching and then I took time out to attend the Jane Austen Festival in Canberra. I would have been doing this regardless of what else I chose to do. I’m just weird that way. I do cool stuff!

This is my second time at the Jane Austen Festival in Canberra. Last year I only attended two part days. One reason for that was that I was still working on my dress until late morning on the Saturday. For some reason I failed to enroll in any of the interesting sessions on at the festival, which meant I had to watch the dancing. I had hurt my foot so couldn’t participate. I met up with fellow writer Bronwyn Parry and her family and friends. I met some other people I knew too. I enjoyed it immensely then and took part in the promenade and carriage rides etc.

This year, I got my organization mojo going (I thought). I enrolled in a pre festival workshop to make a bonnet. This was a fab idea. I was interested in Aylwen’s method and I thought it was a good way to ease into the festival, maybe meet people. I failed, however, to enroll in any of the additional sessions. I couldn’t figure it out. Later I found a clue, an email had been sent in February with a password. Doh!

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Cutting out the bonnet- a buckram construction

 

Unfortunately this year I also developed pain in the spine, everywhere and that put a dampener on things. I was going to participate in the dance tutorials, but egads! They were at nine o’clock! So pumped with painkillers I made it in on Friday. I sat and sewed with Bronwyn. I was on a mission to hand sew a white muslin gown. In the evening I participated in a dance. Nothing vigorous. But it was good to get out of the chair and move about. The atmosphere was fab! So many beautiful gowns. Dymocks Civic had a book stall so I bought a number of books. I also bought a second hand sari for converting into a gown and some fluffy feathers for bonnet trim.

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Books purchased at JAFA -some for my sewing and one for research

 

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Feathers and Fabric

Aylwen and John Gardiner-Garden are the organisers with volunteer helpers. The festival was managed wonderfully. I have organized SF conventions so I know how hard that is to do. The catering was wonderful and I don’t know how either of them could stand by Sunday night. John’s energy with the dance instruction and calling was indefatigable. The music was divine.

 

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Sewing with Bronwyn, Lauren and Kate

 

Saturday I stayed home for the morning. I hurt a lot, but rested and sewed and finished my gown. (this was for two reasons. I’m writing a Regency romance where the heroine sews gowns and I wanted to see if I could)

More painkillers and I was at the festival again. More dancing (just a little) but mostly watching and talking to people. I also bought a new bonnet blank (a straw base in the shape of a Regency bonnet for later trimming). My attempt at frugal practices was dead in the dirt by this time. I stayed for the Grand Napoleon Ball until after supper. I was hanging out to try the Syllabub. I went home earlyish.

This is a shot of me in my trimmed bonnet. I did it in a hurry as I had it for a year and was too ashamed not to trim it and wear it. Turned out well I think.

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Lauren and Kate in their lovely gowns. The Grand Napoleon Ball

 

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Assembled for the ball. I finished the white muslin gown all by hand.

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The hem detail of my dress. I had some vintage lace. I need to extend the hem as I ran out of fabric in the front.

Sunday and I was pain free. I was so happy that I was out the door relatively early. I missed the breakfast but I did buy some Bingley Teas. Bronwyn was delivering a workshop so I hung out with another writer Beverley and we had some morning tea. The big event for me was the promenade to the Old Parliament House Rose Gardens (Senate) where we had a picnic.

 

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Picnic!

 

 

I was pretty exhausted but did a dance lesson then listened to a talk on Regency and tea, had seconds of syllabub and went home. There was another ball after that but I was done in. I don’t know how people do it. What a jampacked weekend. Next year I want my daughters to come and Matthew too. I have a fantasy with him wearing Regency costume and dancing with me. I should take a pill.

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Me in the bonnet I made at the workshop. (not 100 per cent finished) and wearing the dress I made last year.

 

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Today it’s back to the PhD study. I’m working on questionnaires for readers and writers of romance and in depth interview questions. I feel it is a bit early to develop these but I have to submit my research proposal with my ethics clearance. I can’t do any interviewing etc until I have ethics clearance at that can take months. The form! My god. It’s complicated. I am so glad my supervisor, Tony, knows what it requires. So I’m sitting here at my desk avoiding work! Not! It’s good to recap I suppose. Now it’s time to be diligent.

Now it’s time to read about Bourdieu and drink some tea.

 

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I’m now two months into the PhD. It’s been a steep learning curve for me in many ways but others not. My day job skills come in handy and the fact that I’m researching and analysing topics that I love, means that I’m working harder than ever. I’m taking pain killers to do it too.

The first thing I needed to do was up my reading mojo. I started this well before I actually hit the uni scene. I’m still not where I should be. I need to read faster, harder and analyse more. But I’m getting there.

The next challenge is that I have a lot of topic areas to get across. I have to research a methodology. There’s no tick box here. I have to read the philosophy behind the methodology. Next, I have to research feminism (not in-depth because I’m not doing feminist research per se) but sufficient to understand it, the origins, the different schools of thought and past and current trends. Linked to this is Gender so I’m reading up on that and Queer theory. This links directly I think to my creative work, which will be spec fic with romance.

Then I need to read journal articles and books that deal with Harlequin Mills & Boon novels, with or without feminist analysis for my literature review which outlines what research has been done so I can point out where my research will add value. Absolutely fascinating stuff! OMG!

My independent research is the textual analysis of Harlequin Mills & Boon books from 1970 ish till now and also some interviews/questionnaires with romance authors and readers.

I tried develop a schedule so I could get across everything quickly. My approach of shoving all this stuff into my head led to me not reading Mills & Boon books because I was busy reading everything else. Pulls hair!

I haven’t quite got the schedule developed yet. I am being more balanced.

What I wasn’t prepared for is the change in me. Already I think I’m changed by what I’ve read. I believe I should be objective, unemotional and distanced, but I find I’m passionate, sometimes angry, sometimes so excited and happy. Maybe I need a chill pill or something. I don’t know if other Phders went through the same. It would be good to know. I’m not too upset by this. I like being enthusiastic and I know possibly in future I will have the t-shirt that says ‘don’t ask me about the Phd!’ on it. I feel like I’m surfing a wave of exploration and enjoyment. I wonder why I didn’ t do this years ago. (mostly couldn’t afford to)

I was saying to Matthew last night that this PhD might make me more of a feminist than I am now. I am a feminist but I am my kind of feminist. I’m not affiliated to any particular school. Life made me a feminist. I was subject to child abuse, I was raped at 14 (my first sexual experience) and was a victim of domestic violence and I was discriminated against in the workplace in the 1980s for being a woman. Life made me a feminist.

Feminist are known to rubbish popular romance. I can take that. I don’t  believe in that criticism because I can see feminism at work in the texts I’m reading. Not all texts but its there. However, yesterday, when I read an article about right wing Christian romances being anti-feminist (Darbyshire, P, 2002) I was enraged I think. I knew there were Christian romances out there. I thought they had no sex and took place in Sunday school. (not read one!) and then I read Darbyshire’s analysis and I was appalled by it. His analysis was great but I was appalled at the let’s blame feminism for the world’s problems he identified in the texts and put women back in their place, out of the work place and being subservient to men. OMG! This touched a deep nerve in me. I did the religious thing in my early years. No offense to my ex but I soon learned that I was lot smarter and more capable than he was. The thought that he was going to govern me in the afterlife sent me running and I haven’t looked back. I think people should be free to believe what they like, but I also believe in equality of the sexes and of race.

So that’s me. Two months in. I have a great supervisor. An excellent partner and very supportive friends.

Highland Gathering 1983

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