If told that Chiropractic treatment is clearly having a beneficial effect on their posture, because their bum sticks out more, most women will not take it as a compliment.
Having offered such a statement to a friend (not actually intending it either as a compliment or an insult, merely as a statement of fact), she has told just about everyone she regularly speaks to at work, the Chiropractor, and anyone else willing to listen.
I am a bad person. I know this now. Many people have told me so, and I suspect many more are still to come.
I apologise to women everywhere for appreciating the female form, and not taking into consideration their inherent paranoia and self-loathing.
Monday 31 March 2008
Tiring
After listening to her complaining last week that she didn't want anyone staying late on her press day, I was not surprised to find myself staying late today because the Editor hadn't got her shit together. It is possible, going by what my designer said, that she only wrote her Editor's Letter today, at about 5pm.
This, and she kept telling the copy controller she was "busy" when he chased her for the features.
The Group Editor-in-Chief tried to placate us with bribes of Norwegian fruit and nut chocolate (which was nice), but it was still rather galling to have to wait for three pieces of editorial long after the ads had finished, and more than half an hour after the last feature finally made it into my hands.
After that, I had to stay even later to discuss with the new designer on my team how unacceptable it is to decide, first thing on a Monday morning, with no notification other than a text message, to go to the doctor. Of course he thinks he has a valid reason - back pain which comes and goes and, having been OK toward the end of last week, suddenly became 'agony' last night.
Some people just don't understand their responsibilities.
He also - somewhat laughably, considering the monkeys we work with - believes he is singled out and picked on. He genuinely believes this, despite the fact that every other monkey in Production has exactly the same complaint. Somehow, like the rest of those blind, insular halfwits, he never sees other people being dragged off for little meetings. I'd like to think it's because he's intent on his work... but it's more likely that the meetings I have are either over before he drags himself into the office, or start after he's left at bang on 5.30pm.
It's frustrating and tiring dealing with so many people who think they're victims.
Hell, being a manager is frustrating and tiring... Not to mention thankless.
This, and she kept telling the copy controller she was "busy" when he chased her for the features.
The Group Editor-in-Chief tried to placate us with bribes of Norwegian fruit and nut chocolate (which was nice), but it was still rather galling to have to wait for three pieces of editorial long after the ads had finished, and more than half an hour after the last feature finally made it into my hands.
After that, I had to stay even later to discuss with the new designer on my team how unacceptable it is to decide, first thing on a Monday morning, with no notification other than a text message, to go to the doctor. Of course he thinks he has a valid reason - back pain which comes and goes and, having been OK toward the end of last week, suddenly became 'agony' last night.
Some people just don't understand their responsibilities.
He also - somewhat laughably, considering the monkeys we work with - believes he is singled out and picked on. He genuinely believes this, despite the fact that every other monkey in Production has exactly the same complaint. Somehow, like the rest of those blind, insular halfwits, he never sees other people being dragged off for little meetings. I'd like to think it's because he's intent on his work... but it's more likely that the meetings I have are either over before he drags himself into the office, or start after he's left at bang on 5.30pm.
It's frustrating and tiring dealing with so many people who think they're victims.
Hell, being a manager is frustrating and tiring... Not to mention thankless.
Sunday 30 March 2008
Another trip to Birmingham
Specifically to the NEC, for another round of Memorabilia.
It didn't get off to a particularly good start from work, with so much of a backlog on my team (not so much on the ad setting side, but certainly the Copy Control side, and the Editorial) that the planned early finish could not go ahead. The designer for my Monday magazine actually seemed very pissed off for much of the day, and wasn't any happier when I suggested getting our 2-days-a-week 'senior' designer to muck in on her features.
"I really want to do myself," quoth she, in her broad eastern-European accent
"I'd like you to do them yourself, too... but we'll have to see how the work goes on Monday."
This, following a few days of her Editor fretting and complaining (and, on Friday morning, a meeting between her and the MD, where she complained bitterly about the 'lack of resource in Production' - a phrase learned from her boss). I wish I could say it'd be better if my senior designer was in five days a week, but as the workflow study shows, he's been doing gradually less work as the weeks have gone by. Partly this is because I'd slowly weaned the other two off the idea of leaving all the ads for him (seriously, had that continued, we'd have had ads piling up for 2 days before any got picked up) but largely it's because he's slipped back into being comfortable in the office, meaning he's spending far more time telling people how hard he's working than he is working hard.
But I digress.
The situation isn't looking too bad, on balance. There's not much editorial left to do but, according to the Editor, it's all 'fiddly'... probably meaning she doesn't like the way her designer normally does it, so it'll be back and forth endlessly. My boss will be having a chat with her boss about this... it's all very well for an Editor to have opinions on the look of the magazine, but when those opinions are crap, and contradict everything the designer knows about how things should look, it gets a bit silly and counterproductive.
So, to cut a long story short, we didn't leave early. My companion and I didn't even get out of work on time... but we weren't too late.
Travel was complicated not by traffic or road/lane closures, as it has been in the past, but by the total failure of my companion's GPS unit. The damned thing just kept shutting itself off. We had maps in the boot, but ended up relying on memory to get us there. While we didn't take the quickest route - possibly missing the ideal exit - we ended up getting to the hotel far earlier than last time because we knew where we were going once we got to the nearest town. Next time I think I may print off directions and secrete them about my person, in case something similar happens...
The hotel we stayed in is lovely. Decent size place, nice rooms, comfy beds and, this time, a nice view over the hill at the back, where we saw a number of wild rabbits and a couple of guys with shotguns. Thankfully, being outside the city, we felt secure in the knowledge that they weren't out to shoot people.
The biggest surprise about this Spring Memorabilia was that UK Garrison weren't in attendance when we arrived. They're basically a permant fixture of this kind of event, and enjoy pretending to be security for the event. To gain entry to the event unmolested by Stormtroopers was at once a relief and a slight disappointment. They arrived eventually, but there was something intrinsically wrong with arriving before the Stormtroopers.
My companion observed almost immediately that Memorabilia was smaller again... but this is to be expected of the Spring event. The only regularly large event is the Winter one but, since the first we attended, there has never been another to occupy two halls.
We took our traditional, methodical approach to wandering about but, whereas I'd normally view all the stalls, then take a second, targeted run at the things I wanted to buy, this time, I bought as I found things I wanted.
First purchase was TF Movie Stockade, followed swiftly by the Gen 1 repaint of TF Movie Jazz (meaning, essentially, that I now own three iterations of that mold, placing it alongside such wonders as Armada 'Bendy' Prime, Energon Arcee, Cybertron Hardtop and the Lamborghini molds from RiD and Gen 1), which means my Movie collection is complete unless I decide to pick up the Deep Desert repaint of Leader Class Brawl or the Premium edition of Leader Class Prime.
On the non-TF front, I picked up two new dragons from show regulars DWAND - one Andrew Bill (ex-Enchantica) limited run and one in a new-ish line, called 'Book Wyrms', where a small dragon is posing atop a book in a manner appropriate to the title. I snagged 'Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger' which, rather subtly, features a tiger's tail sticking out of the dragon's mouth. One will be a birthday present for my mother, the other will be held over till Christmas. Convenient, eh?
Universal Pictures were there, represented most prominently by a large statue of the new Hulk (Edward Norton's version, rather than the much-reviled Eric Bana one from Ang Lee's stab at the comic book genre). They were mainly playing a bunch of trailers over and over again, including Hellboy 2 and what looks to be an upcoming action Brit-Flick called Doomsday, featuring the likes of Bob Hoskins and one of many ex-Lara Crofts, Rhona Mitra. Expect dry wit and explosions.
My companion discovered a stand selling CDs of MP3 recordings of everything from radio dramas to adverts, and took a selection for a relative. I snagged a CD containing "over 24 hours" of Asimov stories - some are straight audiobooks of his short stories, but there's also a radio drama of Caves of Steel, the first Elijah Bailey mystery. That's going to be fun...
We were also pleased to see Genki Gear, a home-run company producing cool manga-style t-shirts. They had a couple of new arrivals (though not all sizes, and a few others hadn't been completed and delivered by the printers in time. I asked them not to speak of printers to me, as I work in magazines...). From Genki, I grabbed one of their new designs - 'Scarey (sic) Forest' - which is seriously cute.
After taking a turn around the whole place (bumping into Sven of AutoAssembly, manning his Infinite Frontiers stall with its pride-of-place £750 Gen 1 Victory Sabre box set), my companion was beginning to get angry at the utter stupidity and selfishness of people barging everywhere, and decided to wait for me outside while I made my final purchases. While I had seen and considered buying the two new TF Revoltech figures - Starscream and Hot Rod - I ended up not bothering. I have Prime and Megatron and, to be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I bought them... Revoltech is a neat idea, but the execution is often a little sloppy, and the idea of super-poseable TF action figures is a little redundant in this age of super-poseable TFs. I ended up just scooting back to the Space Bridge stall and grabbing a set of Armada Mini-Cons (the air defense team, molded largely in translucent blue plastic and packaged with a CD of music by the No Name Heroes, a J-Rock band I'm sure I've heard of from somewhere) and a Gen 1 Bumblebee keyring for my companion.
Having satisfied myself that I'd got everything I wanted to get, I negotiated the thickening crowds and left the show behind. As I left, I noticed it was about 11.30 - we would be leaving slightly later than last time, but with a far bigger haul. Oddly, there had been no announcement of the doors opening for regular entry - which was basically our cue to leave the last time. This explained why everything had got so crowded and bumpy.
I found my companion sitting quite near the entrance, chatting with a woman who'd been to another of the shows on at the NEC this weekend, Miniatura. She'd been looking for dolls' houses, but the only place selling them is based about five minutes from her home, so she knows their stock well enough already. This reminded me of the dolls' house my father built for my sister many years ago... it's still sat in the cupboard of the spare bedroom, and it's still brilliant, even if it could do with a few repairs here and there. Perhaps, I mused, my father should look to that as a way of supplementing his income, along with the woodturning.
When I presented my companion with the Bumblebee keyring, she first appeared rather nonplussed, but seems to be enjoying it. It's certainly easier to transform that the Concept Camaro version of the movie figure. I'd been searching for one for quite some time, but they seem to sell out far quicker than Windcharger, Cliffjumper or Brawn.
We left, heading straight into town to pick up something simple for lunch back at the hotel, so we could watch some of the DVDs I'd brought along. Ergo Proxy went down well, aside from complaints from my companion that I keep getting her addicted to anime series and then making her wait for further episodes. Le Chevalier D'Eon, being another case in point, was viewed next. Volume four ramps up the intrigue as the plot against the King of France becomes wider-reaching than anyone had thought, and Lia starts to gain a stronger hold over D'Eon.
After dinner - some lovely salmon which I could not finish, being stuffed with both breakfast and dinner, while suffering from my usual 'travel/holiday-induced metabolic slowdown' - we completed volume four of Chevalier, then watched The Limey, an excellent Steven Soderburgh film starring Terrence Stamp as the titular protagonist. I'd forgotten how many brilliant lines the film has, along with its excellent cast... but the strange colour filtering of the film didn't work too well on the small LCD screen of the portable DVD player. My companion pointed out an excellent gag line that I hadn't noticed before, where Wilson admits that it wasn't long before his daughter realised he wasn't a Royal Marine or "playing Iago in world tour of Othello". I wasn't aware that Terrence Stamp had done this in real life! I wonder if that was ad-libbed, or added to the script once Stamp signed on...
Following a good night's sleep, we somewhat reluctantly packed up and left the hotel to return home, stopping along the way for a snack at a service station.
When I arrived home, I was greeted by a letter from the estate agent confirming the acceptance of my offer on the flat, and a large envelope containing my employer's annual report. Back to reality with a crash... :P
It didn't get off to a particularly good start from work, with so much of a backlog on my team (not so much on the ad setting side, but certainly the Copy Control side, and the Editorial) that the planned early finish could not go ahead. The designer for my Monday magazine actually seemed very pissed off for much of the day, and wasn't any happier when I suggested getting our 2-days-a-week 'senior' designer to muck in on her features.
"I really want to do myself," quoth she, in her broad eastern-European accent
"I'd like you to do them yourself, too... but we'll have to see how the work goes on Monday."
This, following a few days of her Editor fretting and complaining (and, on Friday morning, a meeting between her and the MD, where she complained bitterly about the 'lack of resource in Production' - a phrase learned from her boss). I wish I could say it'd be better if my senior designer was in five days a week, but as the workflow study shows, he's been doing gradually less work as the weeks have gone by. Partly this is because I'd slowly weaned the other two off the idea of leaving all the ads for him (seriously, had that continued, we'd have had ads piling up for 2 days before any got picked up) but largely it's because he's slipped back into being comfortable in the office, meaning he's spending far more time telling people how hard he's working than he is working hard.
But I digress.
The situation isn't looking too bad, on balance. There's not much editorial left to do but, according to the Editor, it's all 'fiddly'... probably meaning she doesn't like the way her designer normally does it, so it'll be back and forth endlessly. My boss will be having a chat with her boss about this... it's all very well for an Editor to have opinions on the look of the magazine, but when those opinions are crap, and contradict everything the designer knows about how things should look, it gets a bit silly and counterproductive.
So, to cut a long story short, we didn't leave early. My companion and I didn't even get out of work on time... but we weren't too late.
Travel was complicated not by traffic or road/lane closures, as it has been in the past, but by the total failure of my companion's GPS unit. The damned thing just kept shutting itself off. We had maps in the boot, but ended up relying on memory to get us there. While we didn't take the quickest route - possibly missing the ideal exit - we ended up getting to the hotel far earlier than last time because we knew where we were going once we got to the nearest town. Next time I think I may print off directions and secrete them about my person, in case something similar happens...
The hotel we stayed in is lovely. Decent size place, nice rooms, comfy beds and, this time, a nice view over the hill at the back, where we saw a number of wild rabbits and a couple of guys with shotguns. Thankfully, being outside the city, we felt secure in the knowledge that they weren't out to shoot people.
The biggest surprise about this Spring Memorabilia was that UK Garrison weren't in attendance when we arrived. They're basically a permant fixture of this kind of event, and enjoy pretending to be security for the event. To gain entry to the event unmolested by Stormtroopers was at once a relief and a slight disappointment. They arrived eventually, but there was something intrinsically wrong with arriving before the Stormtroopers.
My companion observed almost immediately that Memorabilia was smaller again... but this is to be expected of the Spring event. The only regularly large event is the Winter one but, since the first we attended, there has never been another to occupy two halls.
We took our traditional, methodical approach to wandering about but, whereas I'd normally view all the stalls, then take a second, targeted run at the things I wanted to buy, this time, I bought as I found things I wanted.
First purchase was TF Movie Stockade, followed swiftly by the Gen 1 repaint of TF Movie Jazz (meaning, essentially, that I now own three iterations of that mold, placing it alongside such wonders as Armada 'Bendy' Prime, Energon Arcee, Cybertron Hardtop and the Lamborghini molds from RiD and Gen 1), which means my Movie collection is complete unless I decide to pick up the Deep Desert repaint of Leader Class Brawl or the Premium edition of Leader Class Prime.
On the non-TF front, I picked up two new dragons from show regulars DWAND - one Andrew Bill (ex-Enchantica) limited run and one in a new-ish line, called 'Book Wyrms', where a small dragon is posing atop a book in a manner appropriate to the title. I snagged 'Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger' which, rather subtly, features a tiger's tail sticking out of the dragon's mouth. One will be a birthday present for my mother, the other will be held over till Christmas. Convenient, eh?
Universal Pictures were there, represented most prominently by a large statue of the new Hulk (Edward Norton's version, rather than the much-reviled Eric Bana one from Ang Lee's stab at the comic book genre). They were mainly playing a bunch of trailers over and over again, including Hellboy 2 and what looks to be an upcoming action Brit-Flick called Doomsday, featuring the likes of Bob Hoskins and one of many ex-Lara Crofts, Rhona Mitra. Expect dry wit and explosions.
My companion discovered a stand selling CDs of MP3 recordings of everything from radio dramas to adverts, and took a selection for a relative. I snagged a CD containing "over 24 hours" of Asimov stories - some are straight audiobooks of his short stories, but there's also a radio drama of Caves of Steel, the first Elijah Bailey mystery. That's going to be fun...
We were also pleased to see Genki Gear, a home-run company producing cool manga-style t-shirts. They had a couple of new arrivals (though not all sizes, and a few others hadn't been completed and delivered by the printers in time. I asked them not to speak of printers to me, as I work in magazines...). From Genki, I grabbed one of their new designs - 'Scarey (sic) Forest' - which is seriously cute.
After taking a turn around the whole place (bumping into Sven of AutoAssembly, manning his Infinite Frontiers stall with its pride-of-place £750 Gen 1 Victory Sabre box set), my companion was beginning to get angry at the utter stupidity and selfishness of people barging everywhere, and decided to wait for me outside while I made my final purchases. While I had seen and considered buying the two new TF Revoltech figures - Starscream and Hot Rod - I ended up not bothering. I have Prime and Megatron and, to be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I bought them... Revoltech is a neat idea, but the execution is often a little sloppy, and the idea of super-poseable TF action figures is a little redundant in this age of super-poseable TFs. I ended up just scooting back to the Space Bridge stall and grabbing a set of Armada Mini-Cons (the air defense team, molded largely in translucent blue plastic and packaged with a CD of music by the No Name Heroes, a J-Rock band I'm sure I've heard of from somewhere) and a Gen 1 Bumblebee keyring for my companion.
Having satisfied myself that I'd got everything I wanted to get, I negotiated the thickening crowds and left the show behind. As I left, I noticed it was about 11.30 - we would be leaving slightly later than last time, but with a far bigger haul. Oddly, there had been no announcement of the doors opening for regular entry - which was basically our cue to leave the last time. This explained why everything had got so crowded and bumpy.
I found my companion sitting quite near the entrance, chatting with a woman who'd been to another of the shows on at the NEC this weekend, Miniatura. She'd been looking for dolls' houses, but the only place selling them is based about five minutes from her home, so she knows their stock well enough already. This reminded me of the dolls' house my father built for my sister many years ago... it's still sat in the cupboard of the spare bedroom, and it's still brilliant, even if it could do with a few repairs here and there. Perhaps, I mused, my father should look to that as a way of supplementing his income, along with the woodturning.
When I presented my companion with the Bumblebee keyring, she first appeared rather nonplussed, but seems to be enjoying it. It's certainly easier to transform that the Concept Camaro version of the movie figure. I'd been searching for one for quite some time, but they seem to sell out far quicker than Windcharger, Cliffjumper or Brawn.
We left, heading straight into town to pick up something simple for lunch back at the hotel, so we could watch some of the DVDs I'd brought along. Ergo Proxy went down well, aside from complaints from my companion that I keep getting her addicted to anime series and then making her wait for further episodes. Le Chevalier D'Eon, being another case in point, was viewed next. Volume four ramps up the intrigue as the plot against the King of France becomes wider-reaching than anyone had thought, and Lia starts to gain a stronger hold over D'Eon.
After dinner - some lovely salmon which I could not finish, being stuffed with both breakfast and dinner, while suffering from my usual 'travel/holiday-induced metabolic slowdown' - we completed volume four of Chevalier, then watched The Limey, an excellent Steven Soderburgh film starring Terrence Stamp as the titular protagonist. I'd forgotten how many brilliant lines the film has, along with its excellent cast... but the strange colour filtering of the film didn't work too well on the small LCD screen of the portable DVD player. My companion pointed out an excellent gag line that I hadn't noticed before, where Wilson admits that it wasn't long before his daughter realised he wasn't a Royal Marine or "playing Iago in world tour of Othello". I wasn't aware that Terrence Stamp had done this in real life! I wonder if that was ad-libbed, or added to the script once Stamp signed on...
Following a good night's sleep, we somewhat reluctantly packed up and left the hotel to return home, stopping along the way for a snack at a service station.
When I arrived home, I was greeted by a letter from the estate agent confirming the acceptance of my offer on the flat, and a large envelope containing my employer's annual report. Back to reality with a crash... :P
Friday 28 March 2008
Better than expected
When all was said and done, my magazine went out quite smoothly today... It became markedly easier once the property section was sorted out yesterday, but therein lies another story.
My senior designer took the day off with - quote - a stinking cold, despite the fact that he's only in the office two days a week. I'm not sure things would have been any better if he had been in. I am sure that he won't volunteer to come in tomorrow to make up for it. Really, as far as I'm concerned, he's making himself utterly redundant.
The speech I delivered for my departing designer was described by one Classified rep as "beautiful". That may be something of an exaggeration, but those who commented all seemed to agree that it was a good speech. It's the second time I've ever had to deliver one (the first having been my boss from about three years ago) and, despite the fact that I wasn't actually that keen on this designer, I did find my voice wavering as I spoke.
The idea of me delivering a speech was evidently a source of great mirth for one salesman, though. I have no idea what he said, but he emailed an apology afterward. Completely insincere and unbelievable but, hey, he's a salesman.
Didn't go down the pub with them after work but, following an utterly pitiful collection around the office, I parted with another £20 because the MD 'forgot' to put money behind the bar as he'd agreed.
I had considered rushing straight home to pack for the weekend trip to Memorabilia but, as it turned out, it was lucky I didn't - when my boss and I arrived at the Chiropractor for her massage appointment, I learned that I also had a massage appointment straight after. Not that it's on my appointment card, or anything useful like that...
My senior designer took the day off with - quote - a stinking cold, despite the fact that he's only in the office two days a week. I'm not sure things would have been any better if he had been in. I am sure that he won't volunteer to come in tomorrow to make up for it. Really, as far as I'm concerned, he's making himself utterly redundant.
The speech I delivered for my departing designer was described by one Classified rep as "beautiful". That may be something of an exaggeration, but those who commented all seemed to agree that it was a good speech. It's the second time I've ever had to deliver one (the first having been my boss from about three years ago) and, despite the fact that I wasn't actually that keen on this designer, I did find my voice wavering as I spoke.
The idea of me delivering a speech was evidently a source of great mirth for one salesman, though. I have no idea what he said, but he emailed an apology afterward. Completely insincere and unbelievable but, hey, he's a salesman.
Didn't go down the pub with them after work but, following an utterly pitiful collection around the office, I parted with another £20 because the MD 'forgot' to put money behind the bar as he'd agreed.
I had considered rushing straight home to pack for the weekend trip to Memorabilia but, as it turned out, it was lucky I didn't - when my boss and I arrived at the Chiropractor for her massage appointment, I learned that I also had a massage appointment straight after. Not that it's on my appointment card, or anything useful like that...
Thursday 27 March 2008
More writing
With one of my designers leaving the company tomorrow, it seems only fitting that I've just now finally sorted out a short speech for her.
I've had it planned out in my head for weeks.
I'm happy with it because it manages to be honest without being negative. While she has been a real pain in the backside with her accurate-to-the-minute logging of her 'lost' holiday time versus her nonexistant logging of lateness or early closing on Fridays, and her strange belief that her employers owe her something beyond that which is expressed in her contract, there is plenty to say in her favour...
I've had it planned out in my head for weeks.
I'm happy with it because it manages to be honest without being negative. While she has been a real pain in the backside with her accurate-to-the-minute logging of her 'lost' holiday time versus her nonexistant logging of lateness or early closing on Fridays, and her strange belief that her employers owe her something beyond that which is expressed in her contract, there is plenty to say in her favour...
Wednesday 26 March 2008
On Being A Tortured Artist
So here's the thing... In my spare time (what little there is that's not occupied by fretting about flathunting, jobhunting, work, or the morons at work), I'm still trying to do a little bit of writing every so often. It's difficult enough because the inclination to write and the opportunity to write do not often coincide. Then one must take into account how it all happens...
I'm not sure how it is for other people, but my writing tends to happen as a result of imagining certain characters in various situations. Frequently I find a story begins with a single line of dialogue which leads, by a circuitous route, to the scenario which prompted the dialogue.
The trouble begins when I go through great, long periods of utter silence from all characters.
So when I was asked to write a story featuring one of my characters as a birthday present during one such period of drought, it should come as no surprise that I missed the deadline.
By about two weeks.
On the plus side, it did leave me with two new avenues I might pursue with this character, having abandoned them as 'birthday story' ideas because one is rather sad and the other became hopelessly complicated and demanded ever more time and thought the further I followed it.
Also on the plus side, I did eventually finish a short, sharp story that I'm very pleased with. Having wrestled with one idea then the other, the third and final idea came to me in a flash of inspiration, late at night, when I found myself unable to settle enough to fall asleep due to overthinking on one of the earlier ideas. While the first two ideas occupied me for hours apiece over the course of the last month, this one became a complete short story within about an hour.
I'm still nowhere near where I was a few years back, churning out scenarios left, right and centre (fourteen and counting for one character!), and spinning them (occasionally) into stories of 30,000 words or more, but this little exercise, stressful as it was, turned out quite well.
In other news, it really does aggravate me when one of my Editors (one, specifically) gets all a-fluster over my team's workload when it's having a direct effect on the progress of her magazine, and whines repeatedly that she doesn't want anyone staying late in the office on her press day.
Like it's any of her damned business. It's my bloody team.
Like her 'wants' are at all relevant to anything. I don't want my team to stay late, but occasionally it's a necessity. It's not really a question of if they stay late at all, it's a question of when they stay late, and how late they stay... and it's the difference between doing the job (producing ads and editorial for a magazine) and doing the work (picking up individual ads/editorial pieces between the hours of 9am and 5.30pm).
And does she express any concern when the late running of her magazine affects the next one in the cycle? Not that I've heard.
At least she hasn't turned on the waterworks... yet.
I'm not sure how it is for other people, but my writing tends to happen as a result of imagining certain characters in various situations. Frequently I find a story begins with a single line of dialogue which leads, by a circuitous route, to the scenario which prompted the dialogue.
The trouble begins when I go through great, long periods of utter silence from all characters.
So when I was asked to write a story featuring one of my characters as a birthday present during one such period of drought, it should come as no surprise that I missed the deadline.
By about two weeks.
On the plus side, it did leave me with two new avenues I might pursue with this character, having abandoned them as 'birthday story' ideas because one is rather sad and the other became hopelessly complicated and demanded ever more time and thought the further I followed it.
Also on the plus side, I did eventually finish a short, sharp story that I'm very pleased with. Having wrestled with one idea then the other, the third and final idea came to me in a flash of inspiration, late at night, when I found myself unable to settle enough to fall asleep due to overthinking on one of the earlier ideas. While the first two ideas occupied me for hours apiece over the course of the last month, this one became a complete short story within about an hour.
I'm still nowhere near where I was a few years back, churning out scenarios left, right and centre (fourteen and counting for one character!), and spinning them (occasionally) into stories of 30,000 words or more, but this little exercise, stressful as it was, turned out quite well.
In other news, it really does aggravate me when one of my Editors (one, specifically) gets all a-fluster over my team's workload when it's having a direct effect on the progress of her magazine, and whines repeatedly that she doesn't want anyone staying late in the office on her press day.
Like it's any of her damned business. It's my bloody team.
Like her 'wants' are at all relevant to anything. I don't want my team to stay late, but occasionally it's a necessity. It's not really a question of if they stay late at all, it's a question of when they stay late, and how late they stay... and it's the difference between doing the job (producing ads and editorial for a magazine) and doing the work (picking up individual ads/editorial pieces between the hours of 9am and 5.30pm).
And does she express any concern when the late running of her magazine affects the next one in the cycle? Not that I've heard.
At least she hasn't turned on the waterworks... yet.
Sunday 23 March 2008
Inclement Weather
So it's March... And it's snowing.
This is really nothing new. A few years ago, we had snow in April.
In many ways, it's lucky that the weather generally is that little bit too warm for snow. Going by the cloud we've had recently, it's really wanted to snow intermittently for the last month or so, but the worst it's managed is slushy rain.
Not so yesterday.
Oh, it started off innocently enough. Rain and sleet, with a touch of hail... Then it brightened up toward lunchtime and during the early afternoon. Soon, though, portentous dark cloud rolled overhead, as if some great evil had blotted out the sun.
By the time my folks and I were heading out to view another flat (same area, same block, different vendor), a hail of densely packed snow was falling. It looked just like those tiny polystyrene bobbles one sometimes finds in packaging and, when caught in the hand, they were not particularly solid.
By contrast, when caught in the face thanks to the strong, chill wind, the feeling was akin to being sandblasted.
The worst had passed by the time we'd reached the station, and we reached the estate agent in good time. The particular agent who would be showing us the flat was already waiting in the entrance over the road, and we were not the only group to be viewing this one.
In brief, the flat was not bad. While the other one was completely neutral, as all those property TV shows recommend, this one showed signs of having been lived in - the kitchen was in a better condition, but didn't look particularly stylish; there was orange carpet throughout; the smell of fresh paint (neutral, naturally) was everywhere. When the agent said it might need a bit of work, they were right. The bathroom showed signs of damp - possibly mold - over the shower. It look rather like leakage from above, but since it was centred on the shower, it could easily be that it was just condensation that was never properly dealt with. While this place is about £5-6k cheaper than the other, I'm not sure I'd want to offer the full amount...
In other news, I am now properly up to date with Le Chevalier D'Eon, having grabbed the missing volume 4 at Forbidden Planet, and I'm beginning to see how the anime will end up mirroring the real life of D'Eon de Beaumont. It's been quite a clever story, all told, with many twists and turns, and only a few bits let down by dodgy voice acting from the US cast.
I also picked up volume two of Ergo Proxy. Sadly, it is remarkably boring compared to the action-packed and densely-plotted opening volume. While lots happens, it feels like a lot of filler events before the important stuff kicks off. That's probably unfair, considering how much actually happens in terms of events and consequences, but it also feels very different from the first volume. I'm keen to see more, but I fear it may degrade into anime-by-the-numbers before too long.
This time next week, I'll be on my way back from Memorabilia... and I've started considering what I shall be looking for. Part of me is rather keen to get Beast Wars 'red dragon' Megatron (or the icy blue RiD repaint Cryotek), but the more I look at photos, the more I see a deeply flawed figure. Excellent dragon mode, very awkward robot mode (and how, pray tell, does Megatron's 'monster head/weapon' arm switch from his left to his right between original Beast Wars, Transmetals, and this one?) and a terribly ill-conceived 'vehicle mode'. Then there's Tigerhawk - the merged form of Tigatron and Airazor, and intriguing concept marred by the overuse of white plastic, which loses all the molded detail, and odd bits of bright green plastic amongst the chromed blue. Perhaps I'll pick up the 2 new TransFormer Revoltech figures, Hot Rod and Starscream. Both look pretty good, but I've not been that impressed with Revoltech so far. How about TF: Animated? Starscream is a must, Earth mode Megatron would be fun... but the others just don't do it for me. I can see that they're impressive bits of toy engineering, but nothing about them grabs me by the wallet and screams "buy me!".
I also need to be on the lookout for birthday presents for my mate Paul... that should be easy enough, though.
But on the subject of birthday presents, I should probably get on with writing that other one. I think I'd like to have it ready to read as a bedtime story over the Memorabilia weekend...
This is really nothing new. A few years ago, we had snow in April.
In many ways, it's lucky that the weather generally is that little bit too warm for snow. Going by the cloud we've had recently, it's really wanted to snow intermittently for the last month or so, but the worst it's managed is slushy rain.
Not so yesterday.
Oh, it started off innocently enough. Rain and sleet, with a touch of hail... Then it brightened up toward lunchtime and during the early afternoon. Soon, though, portentous dark cloud rolled overhead, as if some great evil had blotted out the sun.
By the time my folks and I were heading out to view another flat (same area, same block, different vendor), a hail of densely packed snow was falling. It looked just like those tiny polystyrene bobbles one sometimes finds in packaging and, when caught in the hand, they were not particularly solid.
By contrast, when caught in the face thanks to the strong, chill wind, the feeling was akin to being sandblasted.
The worst had passed by the time we'd reached the station, and we reached the estate agent in good time. The particular agent who would be showing us the flat was already waiting in the entrance over the road, and we were not the only group to be viewing this one.
In brief, the flat was not bad. While the other one was completely neutral, as all those property TV shows recommend, this one showed signs of having been lived in - the kitchen was in a better condition, but didn't look particularly stylish; there was orange carpet throughout; the smell of fresh paint (neutral, naturally) was everywhere. When the agent said it might need a bit of work, they were right. The bathroom showed signs of damp - possibly mold - over the shower. It look rather like leakage from above, but since it was centred on the shower, it could easily be that it was just condensation that was never properly dealt with. While this place is about £5-6k cheaper than the other, I'm not sure I'd want to offer the full amount...
In other news, I am now properly up to date with Le Chevalier D'Eon, having grabbed the missing volume 4 at Forbidden Planet, and I'm beginning to see how the anime will end up mirroring the real life of D'Eon de Beaumont. It's been quite a clever story, all told, with many twists and turns, and only a few bits let down by dodgy voice acting from the US cast.
I also picked up volume two of Ergo Proxy. Sadly, it is remarkably boring compared to the action-packed and densely-plotted opening volume. While lots happens, it feels like a lot of filler events before the important stuff kicks off. That's probably unfair, considering how much actually happens in terms of events and consequences, but it also feels very different from the first volume. I'm keen to see more, but I fear it may degrade into anime-by-the-numbers before too long.
This time next week, I'll be on my way back from Memorabilia... and I've started considering what I shall be looking for. Part of me is rather keen to get Beast Wars 'red dragon' Megatron (or the icy blue RiD repaint Cryotek), but the more I look at photos, the more I see a deeply flawed figure. Excellent dragon mode, very awkward robot mode (and how, pray tell, does Megatron's 'monster head/weapon' arm switch from his left to his right between original Beast Wars, Transmetals, and this one?) and a terribly ill-conceived 'vehicle mode'. Then there's Tigerhawk - the merged form of Tigatron and Airazor, and intriguing concept marred by the overuse of white plastic, which loses all the molded detail, and odd bits of bright green plastic amongst the chromed blue. Perhaps I'll pick up the 2 new TransFormer Revoltech figures, Hot Rod and Starscream. Both look pretty good, but I've not been that impressed with Revoltech so far. How about TF: Animated? Starscream is a must, Earth mode Megatron would be fun... but the others just don't do it for me. I can see that they're impressive bits of toy engineering, but nothing about them grabs me by the wallet and screams "buy me!".
I also need to be on the lookout for birthday presents for my mate Paul... that should be easy enough, though.
But on the subject of birthday presents, I should probably get on with writing that other one. I think I'd like to have it ready to read as a bedtime story over the Memorabilia weekend...
Friday 21 March 2008
...And other fiction
Having been again away from this blog so long that I couldn't remember what I last posted, I now see that I neglected to mention another significant event from the last few weeks: [edit: Oops... No I didn't]
Meanwhile I've taken a few more steps toward escaping my current job, having met with a representative of an agency. I now have some forms to fill in and send back to get the ball rolling.
At work, the plot thickens, literally. My senior designer has somehow convinced all the copy controllers that another of my staff is not pulling her weight, despite the evidence of their own eyes. When the situation was looked into thoroughly, there was indeed a member of my team who was not doing her fair share of the work... but not the one on the receiving end of the allegations. The one who's slacking is the one who's leaving.
My next course of action is complicated. I need to talk to my counterpart on the other team, because he's worked with my senior designer for longer. There is a pattern to his behaviour in that, every time we've hired somebody better than him, but of a similar age, he complains about them. The questions are, how far back does it go, and is there an obvious reason for it?
After that, there are several possibilities:
1. Speak to my designer's editors and apprise them of the allegations (not necessarily naming the source) to ensure their support of their designer.
2. Speak to the MD and bring his attention the the machinations of my senior designer.
3. Speak to Human Resources about bullying.
There's also a fourth option - start moving to make both senior designers redundant. Neither is really capable of fulfilling that role. One is only in the office two days a week, the other has a rather creative interpretation of timekeeping.
But that still leaves a problem with the other idiots in the department who have believed the lies. This is nothing new. I've been the victim of this kind of bullying myself - and was only aware of it in a peripheral sense - and so, while I'm keen to leave, I'm also keen to have this fixed before I go.
I don't fully understand how my senior designer can be so compelling but, for whatever reason, several people in the company let him think for them. It's my firm belief that we should not confirm any staff who are unable to think for themselves, so our newest recruit on Copy Control should probably be ditched.
I'm more than tempted to speak to each of my copy controllers separately about the workflow, and ask them to think very carefully about how it's been going, then tell me what brought them to the conclusion that this particular designer is the problem. If a certain name comes up, I'll have evidence of bullying.
It may help that his staunchest supporter left the company yesterday, now that her tenure as 'Acting Editor' has come to an end with the return of an editor from maternity leave. Even so, he has enough people in his thrall to make life difficult.
Meanwhile I've taken a few more steps toward escaping my current job, having met with a representative of an agency. I now have some forms to fill in and send back to get the ball rolling.
At work, the plot thickens, literally. My senior designer has somehow convinced all the copy controllers that another of my staff is not pulling her weight, despite the evidence of their own eyes. When the situation was looked into thoroughly, there was indeed a member of my team who was not doing her fair share of the work... but not the one on the receiving end of the allegations. The one who's slacking is the one who's leaving.
My next course of action is complicated. I need to talk to my counterpart on the other team, because he's worked with my senior designer for longer. There is a pattern to his behaviour in that, every time we've hired somebody better than him, but of a similar age, he complains about them. The questions are, how far back does it go, and is there an obvious reason for it?
After that, there are several possibilities:
1. Speak to my designer's editors and apprise them of the allegations (not necessarily naming the source) to ensure their support of their designer.
2. Speak to the MD and bring his attention the the machinations of my senior designer.
3. Speak to Human Resources about bullying.
There's also a fourth option - start moving to make both senior designers redundant. Neither is really capable of fulfilling that role. One is only in the office two days a week, the other has a rather creative interpretation of timekeeping.
But that still leaves a problem with the other idiots in the department who have believed the lies. This is nothing new. I've been the victim of this kind of bullying myself - and was only aware of it in a peripheral sense - and so, while I'm keen to leave, I'm also keen to have this fixed before I go.
I don't fully understand how my senior designer can be so compelling but, for whatever reason, several people in the company let him think for them. It's my firm belief that we should not confirm any staff who are unable to think for themselves, so our newest recruit on Copy Control should probably be ditched.
I'm more than tempted to speak to each of my copy controllers separately about the workflow, and ask them to think very carefully about how it's been going, then tell me what brought them to the conclusion that this particular designer is the problem. If a certain name comes up, I'll have evidence of bullying.
It may help that his staunchest supporter left the company yesterday, now that her tenure as 'Acting Editor' has come to an end with the return of an editor from maternity leave. Even so, he has enough people in his thrall to make life difficult.
Sunday 9 March 2008
Delays, Apathy, and Floundering
It's been such a long time since I last wrote in here that I had to read some previous posts to remind myself where I'd got to.
Getting the obvious stuff out of the way first, the funeral for my Grandmother was held at the church near her home in Hanwell on the 18th of February. Quite a modest affair, with close family and a few friends in attendance. It was the first time I've seen cousin Stuart in more years than I can count, and the first time I've seen cousin Richard since my sister's wedding. Both are now married, and Stuart has a baby.
I almost didn't recognise him, to be honest. He looks so different from the boy I remember from all the family photos. He tends to look fairly bored... though, considering the new baby, that may actually be tired. He also looked kind of like a young politician at the funeral. Richard looks just the same as I remember him, and seems to be enjoying married life.
The only downsides to the funeral were that the vicar made a real hash of reading out my Grandmother's potted history - he mispronounced Abertillery, and referred to her grandchildren as her children - and, while we were waiting outside the crematorium, a couple of local yobs vaulted the fence and started checking out the cars.
Speaking to my uncle, I soon noticed many similarities to my father in his mannerisms and attitudes. It was really quite strange. When he asked what I'm doing now, he became quite scornful (not malicious, but clearly not approving) of 'lifestyle magazines'. While my father has never said anything bad about the end results of my work, he's also never said anything good about them.
Also, it's a good thing never to speak of the French in front of either of them.
The wake, at my uncle's house, was quite a sedate affair. Tea, coffee, cake... fig rolls (being a particular favourite of my Grandmother)... Catching up with branches of the family we haven't seen in years (or ever, in some cases)... Watching the peacocks prancing around in the garden. People gradually filtered out, and we eventually left well into the evening.
Since then, I've been completely off my game. I'm not concentrating at work, I've lost the will to do anything creative and, even if I hadn't, I can't seem to sit down and do anything. I have odd flashes of ideas like "perhaps I should go Travelling", but I don't want to go anywhere in particular.
Work has been going from bad to worse in so many ways. While my Senior Designer has been working two days in the office, he's been telling people left right and centre how hard he's working and that, while he's at home, he's working late into the evening to get everything done in time. What he's not telling them is that he's not working during the day, when he's supposed to. Despite a very generous offer from the company, he's manipulating the situation to sound like he's being hard done by.
For this, and many other reasons, I'm stepping up my campaign to get the hell out of there. I've sent my CV to a whole bunch of agencies, and will be making follow-up calls on Monday.
One way or another, I strongly suspect the company will self-destruct soon. The MD has completely lost the plot (rumour has it that he's looking for another job as well!), the Salespeople are completely without discipline and mostly unreliable, the editors are getting lazier, and the Production department is so thoroughly poisoned that no matter who we might try to get rid of, it's already spread to several other people. We'd need to sack everyone and start again to fix it... Coincidentally, this is the pretty much the position we were in about three years ago.
Part of me wonders if I'm part of the poison... I'm one of the last of the old guard - other than me, the last remaining person from the pre-takeover days will leave at the end of the month - and I'm still somewhat troubled by doubts seeded back in the bad old days. Mostly, I think my problem is that I'm part of the furniture... People see me in a certain way based on where I was when they started with the company. There's also a sense that almost everyone trusts what they hear about someone more than their own experience of them.
Which is just plain dumb.
I have a strange sense that the company will really start to unravel after I leave. Partly because this has happened before. When I left my last job, they found that the guy they'd brought in to work with me - and I'd told them time and time again that he was useless - wasn't able to do the job, and they were never able to properly fill my shoes. I learned last year that they'd been bought out, so the company I worked for no longer exists.
The other reason is that - modesty aside - I am such a big part of what happens there. Sure, I'm 'just' a Production Manager, and I only run 6 of the 13 magazines... but the other Production Manager has got where he is partly because I've helped him get there. No-one there could do my job half as well as I do. I have an intuition - borne of 14 years experience and many hard lessons - that no-one else has, and which cannot be trained into anyone. I also get on well with my Editors and Sales Managers... even if I don't particularly like them.
Even if they were able to find a person to take my place - and, according to at least one of the agencies, Production Managers are a rare breed these days - they'd have lost a huge chunk of the skill and experience that makes the Production Department work.
Since my boss is also planning to jump ship, who are they going to get to run the place? My counterpart isn't quite ready for that (not to mention he's looking for another job). The senior Copy Controller, so recently in the running for Classified Manager, is no longer flavour of the minute with the MD. The guy who'd probably be the popular choice - honestly, I can see all of the Copy Controllers and Editors recommending my Senior Designer - is working a two day week while his mother is ill, and is a complete fucking moron.
One of the copy controllers recently described him as "the most responsible person I know" which, quite apart from the fact that she's autistic, suggests that she may well be insane.
Part of me would really like him to get the job, just to see him screw it up... but I really wouldn't want to be even a fly on the wall while that particular disaster happened.
Worse still, one of the few reliable editors is leaving, to be replaced by the return of the most hateful editor I've ever had the misfortune of working with. I do not understand why she was given her old magazine back. She only had to have 'a job' when she returned from her extended maternity leave... it really didn't have to be the same job.
In other news, my home-hunting is basically on hold. I was forced to pull out of my flat purchase when I started having severe doubts about it after I learned - from the mortgage lender's surveyor - that the vendor had moved a tenant in. In many ways, the fact that I work with Salespeople served me very well in dealing with the Estate Agents. When I asked why the vendor would risk the sale by moving in a tennant, I was neither surprised nor convinced when the Agent used that very argument later in the conversation, to show that everything was fine. They couldn't tell me when the guy was moving out, but constantly repeated the vague assertion that "he'll be gone before the deal completes" and, while they had no idea why there was suddenly a tennant, suggested that it was "probably a friend of the vendor". Great. That's nice to know.
There are things to look forward to, though. Memorabilia is at the end of the month. That means a weekend away, and plenty of fun.
I've got into a new Anime - Ergo Proxy - which, despite being full of stereotypes, manages to be far more entertaining that the likes of Gilgamesh. I recently picked up volume five of Le Chevalier D'Eon... only to discover that I had not first bought volume four. Oops.
Returning, briefly, to the subject of creative endeavours, my boss has asked me to write a story for her birthday (this coming Tuesday). It is to centre on one particular character, but it is to be completely original. So far I have some ideas... but part of my doesn't want to give this character the tragic beginning these ideas will bring. I guess I really have been reading too much Stephen Donaldson. I believe the intention was to help break the creative deadlock... but right now I'm not sure I'll have anything done in time. I even suggested doing a sketch ("every picture tells a story," said I)... but while I've made more progress with that than with this inchoate story, it is - like the story - not right.
And I'm really running out of time.
Getting the obvious stuff out of the way first, the funeral for my Grandmother was held at the church near her home in Hanwell on the 18th of February. Quite a modest affair, with close family and a few friends in attendance. It was the first time I've seen cousin Stuart in more years than I can count, and the first time I've seen cousin Richard since my sister's wedding. Both are now married, and Stuart has a baby.
I almost didn't recognise him, to be honest. He looks so different from the boy I remember from all the family photos. He tends to look fairly bored... though, considering the new baby, that may actually be tired. He also looked kind of like a young politician at the funeral. Richard looks just the same as I remember him, and seems to be enjoying married life.
The only downsides to the funeral were that the vicar made a real hash of reading out my Grandmother's potted history - he mispronounced Abertillery, and referred to her grandchildren as her children - and, while we were waiting outside the crematorium, a couple of local yobs vaulted the fence and started checking out the cars.
Speaking to my uncle, I soon noticed many similarities to my father in his mannerisms and attitudes. It was really quite strange. When he asked what I'm doing now, he became quite scornful (not malicious, but clearly not approving) of 'lifestyle magazines'. While my father has never said anything bad about the end results of my work, he's also never said anything good about them.
Also, it's a good thing never to speak of the French in front of either of them.
The wake, at my uncle's house, was quite a sedate affair. Tea, coffee, cake... fig rolls (being a particular favourite of my Grandmother)... Catching up with branches of the family we haven't seen in years (or ever, in some cases)... Watching the peacocks prancing around in the garden. People gradually filtered out, and we eventually left well into the evening.
Since then, I've been completely off my game. I'm not concentrating at work, I've lost the will to do anything creative and, even if I hadn't, I can't seem to sit down and do anything. I have odd flashes of ideas like "perhaps I should go Travelling", but I don't want to go anywhere in particular.
Work has been going from bad to worse in so many ways. While my Senior Designer has been working two days in the office, he's been telling people left right and centre how hard he's working and that, while he's at home, he's working late into the evening to get everything done in time. What he's not telling them is that he's not working during the day, when he's supposed to. Despite a very generous offer from the company, he's manipulating the situation to sound like he's being hard done by.
For this, and many other reasons, I'm stepping up my campaign to get the hell out of there. I've sent my CV to a whole bunch of agencies, and will be making follow-up calls on Monday.
One way or another, I strongly suspect the company will self-destruct soon. The MD has completely lost the plot (rumour has it that he's looking for another job as well!), the Salespeople are completely without discipline and mostly unreliable, the editors are getting lazier, and the Production department is so thoroughly poisoned that no matter who we might try to get rid of, it's already spread to several other people. We'd need to sack everyone and start again to fix it... Coincidentally, this is the pretty much the position we were in about three years ago.
Part of me wonders if I'm part of the poison... I'm one of the last of the old guard - other than me, the last remaining person from the pre-takeover days will leave at the end of the month - and I'm still somewhat troubled by doubts seeded back in the bad old days. Mostly, I think my problem is that I'm part of the furniture... People see me in a certain way based on where I was when they started with the company. There's also a sense that almost everyone trusts what they hear about someone more than their own experience of them.
Which is just plain dumb.
I have a strange sense that the company will really start to unravel after I leave. Partly because this has happened before. When I left my last job, they found that the guy they'd brought in to work with me - and I'd told them time and time again that he was useless - wasn't able to do the job, and they were never able to properly fill my shoes. I learned last year that they'd been bought out, so the company I worked for no longer exists.
The other reason is that - modesty aside - I am such a big part of what happens there. Sure, I'm 'just' a Production Manager, and I only run 6 of the 13 magazines... but the other Production Manager has got where he is partly because I've helped him get there. No-one there could do my job half as well as I do. I have an intuition - borne of 14 years experience and many hard lessons - that no-one else has, and which cannot be trained into anyone. I also get on well with my Editors and Sales Managers... even if I don't particularly like them.
Even if they were able to find a person to take my place - and, according to at least one of the agencies, Production Managers are a rare breed these days - they'd have lost a huge chunk of the skill and experience that makes the Production Department work.
Since my boss is also planning to jump ship, who are they going to get to run the place? My counterpart isn't quite ready for that (not to mention he's looking for another job). The senior Copy Controller, so recently in the running for Classified Manager, is no longer flavour of the minute with the MD. The guy who'd probably be the popular choice - honestly, I can see all of the Copy Controllers and Editors recommending my Senior Designer - is working a two day week while his mother is ill, and is a complete fucking moron.
One of the copy controllers recently described him as "the most responsible person I know" which, quite apart from the fact that she's autistic, suggests that she may well be insane.
Part of me would really like him to get the job, just to see him screw it up... but I really wouldn't want to be even a fly on the wall while that particular disaster happened.
Worse still, one of the few reliable editors is leaving, to be replaced by the return of the most hateful editor I've ever had the misfortune of working with. I do not understand why she was given her old magazine back. She only had to have 'a job' when she returned from her extended maternity leave... it really didn't have to be the same job.
In other news, my home-hunting is basically on hold. I was forced to pull out of my flat purchase when I started having severe doubts about it after I learned - from the mortgage lender's surveyor - that the vendor had moved a tenant in. In many ways, the fact that I work with Salespeople served me very well in dealing with the Estate Agents. When I asked why the vendor would risk the sale by moving in a tennant, I was neither surprised nor convinced when the Agent used that very argument later in the conversation, to show that everything was fine. They couldn't tell me when the guy was moving out, but constantly repeated the vague assertion that "he'll be gone before the deal completes" and, while they had no idea why there was suddenly a tennant, suggested that it was "probably a friend of the vendor". Great. That's nice to know.
There are things to look forward to, though. Memorabilia is at the end of the month. That means a weekend away, and plenty of fun.
I've got into a new Anime - Ergo Proxy - which, despite being full of stereotypes, manages to be far more entertaining that the likes of Gilgamesh. I recently picked up volume five of Le Chevalier D'Eon... only to discover that I had not first bought volume four. Oops.
Returning, briefly, to the subject of creative endeavours, my boss has asked me to write a story for her birthday (this coming Tuesday). It is to centre on one particular character, but it is to be completely original. So far I have some ideas... but part of my doesn't want to give this character the tragic beginning these ideas will bring. I guess I really have been reading too much Stephen Donaldson. I believe the intention was to help break the creative deadlock... but right now I'm not sure I'll have anything done in time. I even suggested doing a sketch ("every picture tells a story," said I)... but while I've made more progress with that than with this inchoate story, it is - like the story - not right.
And I'm really running out of time.
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