books and magazines

Today we had a talk from a publisher I would like to work for (for whom I would like to work). She publishes mostly quite serious non-fiction books; think of the information I would learn on diverse subjects! I am going on a 2-week work placement soon, which is making me both nervous and excited. I shall do some revision of proofreading and editing techniques before I go, in the vain hope of not looking stupid. My placement is with a company I would potentially like to work for, so it is a good chance to impress - though I'm saying that from the outside, it might be different after visting there! Apparently, some students are offered jobs after their first work placement; that would be very affirming! But I think that if I were lucky enough to be offered a job, I would decline the offer (unless it was really stupendously amazing). There is still a lot more to learn from my tutors, and I wouldn't get a refund on the astronomical fees I have paid for the opportunity.

In other publishing news, one of the books I am editing has had the printing date moved forward by two weeks. The schedule was tight to begin with, but now it is verging on hair-tearing-out. It will mean some late nights of grappling with sentence structure, and long, steamy hours with InDesign. But it will be worth it in the end, if only because my name will be on the imprint page! (Along with my co-editor, of course). So everyone will have to buy a copy. The other book I am producing is an architecture journal, and will be an interesting challenge. Luckily the production schedule I've drafted allows a reasonable amount of time for editing and typesetting.

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The hospital visits and blood tests continue; another round next week. The side effects from the medication still haven't abated, but the doctor did assure me that means the medicine is working (small consolation; he doesn't have to put up with it!). It's been two months of injections now, so hopefully the pain and nausea will ease soon. On the plus side, I might not have to go back to the hospital for another check-up until June, which would be good. Everything depends on the test results next week. (Brings to mind a William Carlos Williams poem..)

Waiting in the Blood and Cancer Centre makes me feel sick to my stomach; I think it is because I nearly fainted there after having a bone marrow biopsy. When I was there yesterday, I saw the doctor who performed the surgery, and my stomach gave a lurch. I felt bad about that, because he is very pleasant and was only doing his job, and I did need the test to be done. It just hurt a lot.

Having an hour yesterday to ponder why I don't like to be there, I decided it is the fact I am the youngest patient by at least 30 years. No, 40 years. And that's the outer limit, most people in the waiting room are at least 70, except the children of said patients. Who are usually middle-aged. So everyone stares at me when I walk in, and I catch their pitying glances as I wait for my turn to be called to the examination rooms.

But there are some nice things that come from the not good things. I am getting to know the reception staff and nurses well; they are good at remembering names and faces. (I'm already pretty down with the Aotea Pathology lab nurses, who I see on a regular basis for blood tests). The doctors are very friendly, and ask questions about my publishing course. There is always cheesy-but-cool music playing in the B&CC, and if I want to read a magazine, maybe a copy of the Listener from the past two months, or any NZ Driver magazine ever published, something can usually be found. There is free tea and coffee and filtered water, toys for children, and even a jigsaw puzzle table (current picture: Scandinavian castle, surrounded by mist and autumnal deciduous trees). It's well-geared for somewhere you spend a lot of time... But my most favourite thing of all is the darling old lady who volunteers there on Tuesday afternoons. She is about 75 years old, at least, and she walks around the waiting room chatting to friends, and asking everyone if they would like a cup of tea or coffee. And she makes a mean cup of tea.

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Another photo from L.A. This is from our hotel window, looking skyward