Today I visited the Sydney Writer's Festival. For the curious, some of the content is being streamed here; I'd particularly recommend Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones - it's a beautiful book, and while I didn't get tickets to the presentation, looking at that video is going to be one of my first priorities when I get to a broadband connection tomorrow at uni.
I had written myself a nice little list of speeches and panels I was going to see today, starting with a panel of crime writers - both true crime and fiction - talking about their methods of research. Interesting stuff; I was thinking vaguely about the possibility that modes of research informed by fictional contexts could open up useful spaces in the context of academic discourse (something that's very much on my mind at the moment, as I try to settle on a thesis topic for next semester). Anyhow, I'll have to keep thinking, as it's on tomorrow morning. I haven't quite decided whether to go or not; I've been looking forward to it, but I do have a class on, and I'd really only allowed myself one day off, it being crunch week at uni. What to do, what to do? The decision is hampered by the fact that Friday is my late-start day, so getting up early sounds unattractive. (Later: it turns out that there's also a talk on the bodies-in-barrels case, one of my favourite crimes. Decision made!)
The great tragedy of my (not atypical) lapse into dyslexia is that I was also looking forward with bated breath to hear Philip Nitschke (as opposed to Nietszche, as I misspelt it in at least one email). I thought it was going to be great - had even dug out my ratty copy of his book and was going to have it signed. Alas, it's tomorrow night at 5, and I'll be at work.
However, it all worked out rather well, as I got to see a number of panels today that I thought I'd missed yesterday when I went to uni. You may have heard of Nancy Pearl, a Seattle librarian who can claim, in a way the Beatles could only dream of, to be bigger than Jesus. Honest!
The absolute highlight of the day, though, was meeting Gwynne Dyer - aka god. You may have heard of some of his books - he's best known for War and Future: Tense - but I'd encourage you to read some of the columns on the website. They're syndicated in a number of places, inexplicably not including my local paper, but including the Canberra Times, which is where I was first exposed to his work. He's refreshingly clear-minded and I've always found him a really engaging writer. I was also impressed that there was only one question from the loony left - some woman raving on about the 'genderisation' of war - that's not often the case in public fora dealing with questions of public policy and war. Anyhow, I went to get my book signed after the presentation - I resisted, barely, the urge to have him sign a part of my body like a rockstar - asked a few questions, and found myself having a beer with him and a few other nerds at the overpriced festival bar. Life is so good.
So, while today was a write-off in terms of what I'd planned to do, and also in terms of what I should have done (uni work or, failing that, grocery shopping), it was still right up there as one of the best days ever.
I had written myself a nice little list of speeches and panels I was going to see today, starting with a panel of crime writers - both true crime and fiction - talking about their methods of research. Interesting stuff; I was thinking vaguely about the possibility that modes of research informed by fictional contexts could open up useful spaces in the context of academic discourse (something that's very much on my mind at the moment, as I try to settle on a thesis topic for next semester). Anyhow, I'll have to keep thinking, as it's on tomorrow morning. I haven't quite decided whether to go or not; I've been looking forward to it, but I do have a class on, and I'd really only allowed myself one day off, it being crunch week at uni. What to do, what to do? The decision is hampered by the fact that Friday is my late-start day, so getting up early sounds unattractive. (Later: it turns out that there's also a talk on the bodies-in-barrels case, one of my favourite crimes. Decision made!)
The great tragedy of my (not atypical) lapse into dyslexia is that I was also looking forward with bated breath to hear Philip Nitschke (as opposed to Nietszche, as I misspelt it in at least one email). I thought it was going to be great - had even dug out my ratty copy of his book and was going to have it signed. Alas, it's tomorrow night at 5, and I'll be at work.
However, it all worked out rather well, as I got to see a number of panels today that I thought I'd missed yesterday when I went to uni. You may have heard of Nancy Pearl, a Seattle librarian who can claim, in a way the Beatles could only dream of, to be bigger than Jesus. Honest!
The absolute highlight of the day, though, was meeting Gwynne Dyer - aka god. You may have heard of some of his books - he's best known for War and Future: Tense - but I'd encourage you to read some of the columns on the website. They're syndicated in a number of places, inexplicably not including my local paper, but including the Canberra Times, which is where I was first exposed to his work. He's refreshingly clear-minded and I've always found him a really engaging writer. I was also impressed that there was only one question from the loony left - some woman raving on about the 'genderisation' of war - that's not often the case in public fora dealing with questions of public policy and war. Anyhow, I went to get my book signed after the presentation - I resisted, barely, the urge to have him sign a part of my body like a rockstar - asked a few questions, and found myself having a beer with him and a few other nerds at the overpriced festival bar. Life is so good.
So, while today was a write-off in terms of what I'd planned to do, and also in terms of what I should have done (uni work or, failing that, grocery shopping), it was still right up there as one of the best days ever.
posted by beck at 9:12 pm
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