Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes (a State of the Nea post)

I seem to be having an unprecedented (and expensive) bout of adulthood going on. I've upgraded my wardrobe almost from scratch for the first time in years. I've been going to doctors regularly (although I may have to go back to the dentist, as the tooth that started all this nonsense is still incredibly sensitive.) I'm about to pick a painter for the house. I've just had a ton of work done on my car - the bumper cover is still held on with duct tape, but the tires and everything under the hood should be good to go for the next 60,000 miles.

This weekend, I have two essays on Martha and racism in Who to peer review, and I have a fanfic to edit for a MediaWest zine. I've offered to put in a clinic shift and am waiting to hear back.

And on Monday... I start the new contract.

It's going to mean a lot of changes, which is why I'm spending all this time trying to get things done in advance. Some of them are good - I will be learning a lot of new things in the new job. Some are good in disguise - I can no longer take the time to buy a chai and bagel at the local bakery Every. Single. Morning. (I found out what brand of chai they use, though. Big Train spice, available for reasonable rates on the internet.) Considering the way parking is, it's not out of the question on at least nice days to force myself to get exercise by parking about half a mile away from the door.

And some things will be an adjustment. The bad parking means that I won't be blithely running errands over lunch anymore. Because I'll be on a steep learning curve, I won't be able to listen to audiobooks while I'm working. I've been badly spoiled on those two points for many months now.

Basically, on Monday my life begins the New Normal. And I'm both excited and a little scared about it.

On writing women characters

The authors I internet-stalk have been doing a fair amount of discussing how to write women as characters at the moment. And if there was one thing that I'd love to get into the conversation, it is this:

Stop using tits as a shorthand for femininity. More than that, stop using how women dress their upper bodies as a shorthand for how they feel about their sexuality. (I'm looking at you, Byatt. You should have known better.)

Here's a handy hint for the Y-enabled authors reading this blog:

Women don't think about their breasts very often.

Seriously, once you've grown them, figured out your overall dressing style and found a bra you like, the whole boob thing is pretty much a done deal. In general day-to-day life, the overall chestal concern isn't "how do I feel about my tits?" It's "is this bra going to behave?" And I don't mean "Will it lift, separate, and present my apparatus to advantage?" I mean "18 Hour Comfort my ass; this damned thing's riding up/falling down/digging in/falling off my shoulders a-fucking-gain!" (Spend a day in a dance belt, boys, and see how long it takes you to stop caring what's in it and start obsessing on comfort.)

And besides... was the gender of your characters changed, would you really be writing things like "Jack dressed to the left to show his confidence today"?

Even the girliest of girls is going to think about her hair and nails more than her mammaries. After all, the first two are in plain sight at all times, while her breasts aren't. Boobs don't require a lot of maintenance, after all. They don't need to be filed, trimmed, or polished, and are far less likely to kink in odd directions if you sleep on them wet.

Oh, things are different if the scene is specifically about sexuality. (Scott Wentworth once wrote with remarkable surprise that both his leading ladies adjusted their bodices while singing the line "weapons ready" in Enter the Guardsman. What was he expecting?) But on a day to day basis? When other people aren't making a big deal out of them?

We. Don't. Care.

I just had to get that off my chest.