This Conversation

Self was in Oxford.

Oxford, as in UK.

The year she got shortlisted for the Saboteur Awards.

Funny, that was also her first visit to Ireland.

In fact, she was IN Ireland when she got the e-mail from her publisher. In Florida.

“Oh,” self e-mailed. “I don’t think I can make it to Oxford, Mississippi. Because, I’m in Ireland.”

And her publisher said, “Well, if you’re in Ireland, I think that’s a lot closer to Oxford than where I am.”

And self thought, Huh, that’s funny.

Then she got an e-mail from the Saboteur Awards people, giving her directions on getting to Oxford. Which included going to London, then taking a train . . .

Wait. London. Train.

HOLY COW YOU CANNOT BE TELLING HER SHE WAS UP FOR A BRITISH AWARD?

Like hell, she said!

Anyhoo, she wound up in Oxford, UK. Drinking champagne, thank you very much. A young woman comes up to self, introduces herself as a Ph.D. student from Oxford. Oxford University, not Oxford as in Oxford, Mississippi. LOL.

The young woman asks self what she does to relax.

Self doesn’t even have to think about it: “I write Fan Fiction.”

And this young woman, this doctoral candidate in Oxford University, doesn’t bat an eyelash. She comes right back at self with: “Which universe?”

And self goes: “Hunger Games. Everlark.”

And that is the honest truth.

Stay tuned.

Doctors-in-Training Write Fan Fiction

It never lasts, though.

The minute they become bona fide doctors, they stop writing.

The average life of a fan fiction writer (those who are in medical school, anyway) is about four years. Just long enough to get them through it. Before you know it, there’s this announcement on their tumblr pages:

YAY! I MADE IT! I’M NOW A FULL-FLEDGED DOCTOR!

And before you know it, fictions that are WIP just cut off. Just like that.

So long! It’s been nice knowing you!

Today, self re-visited one of her favorite stories. It’s incomplete. Self isn’t sure the author is a doctor (or a nurse, or in some sort of medical profession), but the writing about injury is pretty matter-of-fact:

Her wrist was sore from writing through the night, and she pinched the tendons between her fingers to soothe the ache. It was slightly crooked from a tumble she had taken down the stairs when she was young, landing on her hands. Years later, after seeing a proper physician, he noted that her Colles’ fracture hadn’t been set correctly. She always thought broken bones were supposed to be unbearably painful, but she hadn’t felt a thing. In fact, while it had limited her flexibility, the stiffened joint improved her aim for archery, giving her a steady hand that could strike the target from twice the distance.

DSCN7114

The Huntington Gardens, Pasadena, California

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

 

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