Misc.

Odd sort of day, today. A day out of June dropped into September, almost; an autumn day slow-baked until orange and red leaves are drifting downwards in twenty-five degree heat. It's a little baffling; I'm quite looking forward to proper cold weather now. I rememeber that I would start the autumn term of each school year with tights, uniform jumper and long coat, and for the first two weeks of term, it would be muggy and hot and as horrible as possible so you'd see scores of people wandering off home with coats and blazers over their arms. I always wanted to do some kind of survey on exactly how school uniforms are carefully designed to be far too hot in summer and far too cold in winter without any intervening period, however short, of anything remotely approaching being comfortable. I never got around to it, and I actually quite liked my uniform in sixth form; I mean, I got to wear a tail. Actually, more than one. Who else can say that?

For the first time in a while, something good has happened. I have my job back. Just for one week before I go back to Oxford, but I am not complaining. A week back at the bookshop, starting on Monday, four hours a day and whatever extra bits they can scrounge up. Thank you, whatever deities are out there; at least I won't go stir crazy nuts for my remaining time here.

And, also, in related news of the weird! I have written here at length about Tony, my very nice but greatly-given-to-verbosity boss. Honestly, he talks so much; whenever I have to ring him for whatever reason, I tend to put the kettle on and make coffee one-handed so I have something to do for the ten minutes straight where I don't have to say anything. Anyway! On Monday morning at a quarter to eight, not just me but the whole entire country will be subjected to it, as he's on Radio Five! Talking about a subject now very close to my heart, to whit, the wonder that is the independent bookshop. So, if anyone should be listening to the Breakfast programme to a man named Tony who talks a lot - feel my pain. Or not, because he is such a nice guy and a great boss, but... you know. You'll know what I mean.

So this is new of the very good indeed.

Other things that are important... um. I am trying to wind down all my various fannish activities before I leave. This has manifested as a stern note-to-self to not start any fics, really, please, just don't, and not get into any sort of fandom, and definitely don't sign up for ficathons. The last thing is easy - I am still in doubt as to whether to sign up for yuletide this year, but that's the only one I'm considering, and after that, the only one I'll let myself sign up for is Remix - but the second thing is a problem (er... XF, The West Wing, Supernatural and Studio 60 are all vying for my attentions) and the first one might be a bit of a difficulty.

In fact, for my own benefit as much as anyone else's, ( my WIPs )

Lastly, provisionally titled HP humour fic, and it goes outside the cut because it's the one I'm most likely to finish. I wrote this all in one go two days ago, realised it needed a bit more to it and added one more scene last night, and now I need to read it through and send it off for beta.

In fact, I have discovered something about how I write. Last night I was all set to scrap this fic because it's not funny, or at least, the epilogue I was trying to write was not remotely funny. So I deleted it and I wrote a depressing epilogue instead. And the depressing epilogue actually has two or three funny bits and ends on a joke. So it seems I can write humour - as long as it is facetious and wildly inappropriate to the situation. Score.

And that's that. Now, the Feminism Paper That Ate Manhattan. (Filed next to the Cockroach That Ate Cincinnati, naturally.)

Oh, and before I toddle, a quick rec: musesfool has a very interesting post about the fannish community and how it all fits together. Go, read, bask in the collective insight. I'm going to post my own thoughts on it, but in distinctly tl;dr fashion, so probably in the next post.