2020s

    When Election Night Went On For Days

    For the first time in my life (apart from occasional odd minutes in hotels on business trips) I’m watching CNN. It’s 5am on the US east coast, 3am on the west; yet every few seconds, it seems like, we get this:

    A placeholder card on CNN Go, saying that a commercial break is in progress and that the broadcast will resume momentarily.
    An ad break on CNN International

    Sometimes, too, there’s an actual advert, but luckily I’ve been able to scrub through them.

    The actual coverage is good, though. They’re providing good information, lots of details. They’re also calling out Trump’s lies, as is the proper thing to do.

    Of course, since most of the time there’s nothing much happening, they’re having a hard time of it.

    We remain gripped.

    A blue sky with mottled, fluffy, white clouds. The type sometimes called a mackerel sky.
    The sky over Hackney, this morning

    Writing About Writing About Typography

    Robin Rendle writes about writing about typography, but he has lessons for all of us who want to write well.

    Though I don’t entirely agree with his viewpoint about the particular sentence he criticises. Here it is:

    A revival is based on historical models, made suitable for contemporary use, adapted to the typographical and technical needs of today, but nevertheless relies on a personal response to the historical style.

    – The Rosart Project, The Rosart Project

    The ‘revival’ it’s talking about involves recreating old typefaces, and/or building new versions of them. It’s from a site called The Rosart Project, set up by some students of typography.

    Rendle’s essay at an improved version of that sentence is this:

    Type designers will often look at letterforms that were made in the past and then redraw them for modern day use. This is called a “revival” by the type community but I like to think of it as a remix: a type designer will unavoidably apply their own style and harmonies, their own deviations and melodies to the song.

    Every remix is different, every remix is important.

    – Robin Rendle, Writing about Typography

    Which is certainly brighter, has a bit more sparkle, and arguably is easier to understand. But I don’t think the original is that bad. Certainly not as bad as Rendle thinks. He says:

    what does any of this mean? The words make sense but it’s written in a style that’s familiar to anyone that reads about the field of typography. It’s what’s known to folks outside the field as “academic writing” but it’s what I consider to simply be bad writing—it’s waffling and unclear.

    – Robin Rendle, Writing about Typography

    It’s what is often called dry, I’d say, certainly compared to the alternative. But I don’t think it deserves quite the fire he brings to it. Of course he’s only doing it – he says, and I believe him – because he loves the project, and wants to ‘see the whole typographic community break the shackles of this style of writing.’

    Which is fair enough. I’d certainly rather read a piece in Rendle’s style than much academic writing. So I guess maybe I do agree with him after all. His final advice to the typographic community could apply just about anywhere where words are used:

    write to swoon, to convince, to make a stranger fall in love. Abandon the academic style, because it’s making your beautiful work so very boring.

    – Robin Rendle, Writing about Typography

    These videos of Americans chanting ‘Stop the count!’ What… why… how…?

    Trump’s reality distortion field is powerful indeed.

    (For example: <twitter.com/SJPeace>)

    The Secret Place by Tana French (Books 2020, 23)

    Crime fiction set in Dublin. In a posh boarding school, specifically, which causes it to have elements of young adult (YA) fiction. We studied it for the ‘Genre’ module of my MA course. It also dips into magic realism, so it’s particularly appropriate for that module.

    I hadn’t read any of French’s books before. This is volume five in a series about the Dublin Murder Squad, but they’re only loosely linked. I enjoyed it a lot, and wouldn’t mind reading more.

    She has a great way with colour imagery, and compelling characters.

    In Trump’s fake-news world, ‘counting all the votes’ equals ‘stealing the election.’ Out here in the real world ‘counting all the votes’ equals ‘democracy.’

    Why do the polls close so early in the US? Seems to be 6pm. On the other hand, with all the early voting, I suppose they’ve been open for weeks.

    Good luck today, America. Here’s hoping for a landslide against the guy in office.

    It’s extremely disappointing that yesterday’s UK government announcement of the new lockdown made no mention whatsoever of masks or ventilation – and barely any of testing and tracing.

    We still need those things, even as we lock down again. The virus doesn’t know the rules.

    In the Sky With Diamonds

    This is stone-cold genius. Making diamonds out of carbon dioxide from the air, solar and wind power, and rainwater:

    UK millionaire Dale Vince says lab-grown gems will be ‘world’s first zero-impact’ diamonds

    “Making diamonds from nothing more than the sky, from the air we breathe – is a magical, evocative idea – it’s modern alchemy,” said Vince. “We don’t need to mine the earth to have diamonds, we can mine the sky.”

    – Jillian Ambrose, Ecotricity founder to grow diamonds ‘made entirely from the sky’

    ‘Sky Diamonds’ is a great name for the company, but I feel he’s missing an obvious Beatles tie-in.

    Wheeling the Reinvention

    Dave Winer has ideas:

    ideas for rethinking blogs and feeds. I found, as others have, that I need another kind of document to include in my personal CMS other than a story that’s part of the blog. Everything about blogs are set up to be written, then lightly edited, and never touched again. It’s temporal writing. But there are other things that I want to develop over time, keep coming back to, revising. A few years back I started this.how to hold those docs.

    – Dave Winer, Tuesday, October 20, 2020 at 16:05

    He’s talking about what I like to call ‘web pages,’ surely? You don’t need any fancy CMS for those, as Dave of all people should know. And if you want to use such a thing, well, even WordPress has its Posts/Pages distinction.

    Lava lamp, processed with Prisma
    Lava lamp, processed with Prisma

    OK, I’m just watching S3E1 of Star Trek: Discovery, and a character has just said his name is Book.

    Are we in the Firefly ‘verse?

    Colliding Names

    A few years ago I wrote about how I was notified about the wrong band called (The) Nails. In that case the names were different, though only by the subtle presence or absence of the definite article. Things have got even more confusing recently.

    I have an app on my phone called Music Harbor (sic). The idea is, you give it access to your music library, and it notifies you of forthcoming releases by artists you already have tracks by. It sometimes throws up some oddities, like people I’ve never heard of just because they’re ‘featured’ on something I have. But mostly it’s pretty good. It’s how I know that Bruce Springsteen has a new album coming out in a few days, for example.

    A few years back I heard a track called ‘Bass Down Low,’ by someone called Dev. I liked it, both musically and lyrically. I mean, it’s not profound, but ‘I like my beats fast and my bass down low’ is a sentiment I can get behind.

    So there was a new track by Dev out today. However, the guy rapping on ‘El Erb’, is not, I feel sure, Dev, the female singer & rapper of ‘Bass Down Low.’

    It’s also a scunner of a name to search for, what with it being an abbreviation for developer, the TV show, and Google completely owning the .dev top-level domain.

    Multiple people with the same name: it’s a problem. It’s why actors have Equity names, I guess.

    Still, there should be no problem with the early nineties Scottish indiepoppers Bis, right? Who’d have thought they’d be back with a new single, this long after ‘The Secret Vampire EP’?

    No-one, it turns out. This Bis is someone else (and his single ‘Streets’ is also nothing to do with The Streets).1 It’s also hard to search for, not least because it’s an abbreviation for several different organisations. I even used to work for a company called BIS.

    I don’t think the English language is running out of names, but if you’re planning on using a short one as your professional persona or brand, you probably want to check out whether or not someone has already used it in your field. Though it’s not always that easy, as I’ve noted.

    There’s even a music magazine called Clash, which has nothing to do with The Clash.

    Still, ‘Sugar sugar kandy pop/Push it down and pull it up,’ as I’m sure we can all agree.


    1. Shit, and I’ve just found out he was murdered last year. ↩︎

    Covid Track

    This is one of our local parks. Look at that desire-line track, fading into the distance (click or tap on the picture to see it bigger).

    A footpath worn in grass across a park.
    A path made by many people, avoiding each other

    The paved footpath is off to the right. That track – a simple, direct route, that avoids the footpath – wasn’t there a year ago. The novel coronavirus changes the landscape.

    Not Discworld, Not Batman

    Neil Gaiman makes great use of metaphor to criticise BBC America’s The Watch:

    It’s not Batman if he’s now a news reporter in a yellow trenchcoat with a pet bat.

    – Neil Gaiman, quoted in The Guardian

    Though I’d watch that series.

    When the Going Gets WEIRD

    In the New York Times Daniel C Dennett reviews a book by Joseph Henrich called The Weirdest People in the World: How the West Became Psychologically Peculiar and Particularly Prosperous. Sounds like an interesting book, and the review itself is engaging. I just wanted to note a few points.

    First, we have the acronym WEIRD, which stands for “Western, educated, industrialized, rich, democratic.” Apparently being WEIRD makes us weird, in psychological terms. Non-WEIRD and WEIRD people have differences that can be observed, measured.

    I was intrigued by this quote:

    To point to just one striking example: Normal, meaning non-WEIRD, people use left and right hemispheres of their brains about equally for facial recognition, but we WEIRD people have co-opted left-hemisphere regions for language tasks, and are significantly worse at recognizing faces than the normal population. Until recently few researchers imagined that growing up in a particular culture could have such an effect on functional neuroanatomy.

    – Daniel C Dennett, Why Are We in the West So Weird? A Theory

    I wonder if this can apply on an individual scale: are people whose focus has been language less able to recognise faces? Answering just from within my own head, I’d say maybe? I’ve been what my Dad used to call a compulsive reader all my life, as well as being at least somewhat interested in writing, and I’m very poor at facial recognition. Bordering on prosopagnosia, I sometimes think (though far from anything like the poor woman in this story, who can’t even recognise herself in a mirror).

    If my experience suggests that, I have counter examples right in my own family. My beloved and our daughter are both linguists, and both border (to my mind) on being super recognisers1, which is the complete opposite of me.

    None of which tells us anything useful, except maybe that the ability to recognise faces, like many things, exists on a scale.

    More interestingly, Dennett introduces (to me, at least) the delightful term ‘Occam’s Broom’:

    A good statistician (which I am not) should scrutinize the many uses of statistics made by Henrich and his team. They are probably all sound but he would want them examined rigorously by the experts. That’s science. Experts who don’t have the technical tools — historians and anthropologists especially — have an important role to play as well; they should scour the book for any instances of Occam’s broom (with which one sweeps inconvenient facts under the rug).

    – Daniel C Dennett, Why Are We in the West So Weird? A Theory

    Occam had a famous razor; why wouldn’t he have a broom as well?


    1. There’s a professional body of super recognisers. Who’d have thought? ↩︎

    Term started today, technically. Coincidentally, 38 years to the day after my first term at Edinburgh started. I don’t have any classes till Wednesday, though.

    Off we go, then, into this new adventure.

    Orlando by Virginia Woolf (Books 2020, 22)

    This is a book about history, biography, gender – and writing.

    It’s presented as a biography of the titular character, who starts as the son of a noble family. It’s written for, and partly based an the life of, Woolf’s friend Vita Sackville-West.

    Famously, Orlando’s gender (or biological sex) changes partway through the novel. She spends the latter part of it as a woman. She also lives for four or five hundred years – and presumably is living still. She’s barely got started by the end of the book.1

    The interesting thing about the time difference is that he/she doesn’t experience the passage of hundreds of years, as far as we are shown. It’s like time passes at a different rate for her. She reaches the age of around 30, but the world has moved on through ages around her.

    I enjoyed this greatly, and as I said a while back, it sparked some ideas and made me think of associations with Iain Banks. Which can’t be bad.


    1. Indeed she/he turns up in Alan Moore’s League of Extraordinary Gentlemen series, switching back and forth seemingly at random. ↩︎

    How I'm Going To Master this Writing Lark

    Announcing a big life change: I’m going to be starting a masters course in a couple of weeks. An MA in Creative Writing, at Birkbeck, University of London.

    Nine Months in Slippers

    “How did you get here, Martin?” I hear you ask. Let me take you back to November last year. I lost my job. The reasons are obscure and not that interesting, but I had been working at SPIKA for only six months, and suddenly I was out on the street.1

    If that had happened a couple of months sooner, I might have been studying all this time. I had been vaguely musing on the idea of doing a masters in journalism. I love to write, and I sometimes think that I kind of missed a calling.

    I was too late for 2019, all the university terms having already started. So I did a bit of job hunting, but mainly took a break till after Christmas.

    When this year that we had no idea was going to be so terrible started, I started looking for jobs, but I also kept thinking about journalism. I started a distance-learning course. Learned a bit of shorthand, and read up on some of the other aspects of the craft. A journalism MA, starting this year, was still on the table.

    Then Coronavirus arrived.

    To be honest, the lockdown didn’t change things that much for me: I was at home all the time anyway. But the jobs market, as well as the rest of the world, was affected. It’s easy to work from home in software development, but recruitment was down. I had a few interviews, but no success.

    Then somewhere in there I decided that journalism wasn’t for me after all. There are aspects of the profession that didn’t appeal to me: newsgathering and all that side of it, essentially. I’d like to be a columnist or maybe a feature writer, but not so much a reporter. Perhaps more importantly, it’s a terrible time for journalism, with newsrooms laying people off and cutting back.

    I kept looking for jobs back in software development. But after a bit, Frances said, “Why don’t you do a masters in your own field?” It was a good idea: it would be intellectually stimulating, and possibly improve my employability. I started looking at courses.

    Computer science itself (I’ve never formally studied it), or one of the various data science options? Both had their merits. Either would have been interesting and mentally challenging.

    But they didn’t spark joy, to use a tidiness-related term that seems appropriate. I looked at the course outlines, and they were interesting enough, but I could tell I wouldn’t have loved doing them.

    There were other subjects, though, and one kept prodding my mind; one that did offer the prospect of joy, the possibility that I would love it.

    Like I said, I love to write.

    Choosing

    Quite a few institutions offer creative writing MAs, in various forms. I applied to all of them. All the ones in London, anyway, and a few others that offer distance learning. Each needed a personal statement and a sample of writing. Every single one had unique requirements of the sample, in terms of word length and type of piece. Royal Holloway, for example (who rejected me), wanted a short story extract and, uniquely, a piece of critical writing. Most just wanted the fiction.

    There were differences in the course titles, too. London Met’s was ‘Creative, Digital, and Professional Writing.’ Westminster’s was ‘Creative Writing: Writing the City,’ though they had closed entry for this year.

    City, University of London has several. But the plain ‘Creative Writing’ was showing a message to the effect of ‘Applications suspended.’ I emailed to ask if this meant that they were full for the year, and was told that no, they had suspended entry for 2020 because there wasn’t enough interest. So I applied for another one they have, ‘Creative Writing and Publishing.’ They got back to me after a few days and said the course was full. Seems to be a slight disconnect there, maybe?

    I got offers from London Met, Kingston (by distance learning), and Birkbeck. Birkbeck were the only ones who interviewed me first (I still haven’t heard back from several, and Glasgow’s website was too broken to let me apply – and they didn’t reply to my query). And just today, Teeside, another distance learning one, offered me a place. Far, far too late. I shouldn’t criticise, though, since I was very late in applying.

    For a variety of reasons I decided Birkbeck was the best of the offers, not least that I liked Julia Bell, the course leader, who interviewed me from her shed. Birkbeck is ‘London’s evening university.’ It was set up to provide adult education to people who are working. All the classes are in the evenings.

    Why, and Why Now?

    This is probably something I should have done thirty years ago, but we didn’t know about masterses back then. Well, I didn’t, anyway. And I don’t think creative writing masters courses existed at all.2 Anyway, as the saying more or less has it, the best time was then; the second-best time is now.

    Will it help me be a better writer? I damn well hope so. Beyond that, we’ll have to wait and see.

    And Beyond…

    What comes after this? In an ideal world I’ll make my living as a writer. I’m well aware how hard that is to achieve, though, so I might end up going back to programming. The best might be some sort of hybrid. We’ll see, but I’m not going to worry too much about it for the next year or so.

    One thing I do plan to do is to blog about the course as I do it, so expect to see more here.


    1. Specifically Victoria Street, Westminster. It was a very convenient office for popping down to Parliament Square to protest illegal proroguing↩︎

    2. A little research tells me the famous UEA one started in 1970, so I’m wrong there. ↩︎

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