In the news today, I had insomnia last night, so am working on very little sleep, all of which was obtained after five-thirty this morning.

My advertising blitz for my HUM 18 class resulted in one whole student adding this week.  We have to do better, people.  Picture me as a really sexy uncle Sam–I want you (to advertise or sign up for this class).

I read Atonement by Ian McEwan.  I had seen the movie first, but this is not a comparison of the film (there are things they adapt well and things they don’t–not news).  The one thing that was unfortunate about seeing the movie first was that I knew that McEwan was going to have his heroine choose a certain green dress, so when he goes on for pages and pages and pages about her changing clothes, I got even more annoyed than I usually would have.

Margaret Atwood has said that there are few characters who feed and clothe their characters.  McEwan does so, but I didn’t appreciate the laboriousness of the effort.

And that’s my main complaint–he labors and then the reader labors.  McEwan has said that he stresses about constructing his sentences because he’s insecure about his lower class background.  I don’t see why I should have to suffer for that.  It’s fine to have three (plus one briefly forgotten interlude by someone else) points of view for a day, but it’s not fine to have that day go on for hundreds of pages.  And don’t mention Ulysses to me–people only read that as an exercise.  I eschew exercise in all of its forms (all its unpleasurable forms, anyway).

The book does get better after that blasted day, but I’m not blown away by his metafictional “surprise” (he’s a little too m.night shamawhatever).  The only thing I really like about this book is that the reader is never certain about what happened on a certain afternoon, which colors what happened on a certain night.  And so I’m left to tease it out–not that I’ll ever know.

It’s an interesting look at classism, but won’t hold too many surprises for those of this generation–we know better than to take candy from strangers.

Well, there are three more weeks of the quarter. Lots of grading, lots of teaching, lots of celebrating (of birthdays and weddings and memorial days) to go.

Somehow or another, I have to also prep my summer course(s?) and work on the book and do a lot of paperwork (bills, letters of rec, reviews, etc) that have built up.

Feel boring–I’m mainly just working. But I’ll give you my silliest moment of the week. When I heard a certain Leonard Nimoy give a certain speech about going where no one has ever gone before, I teared up. Am weird, nerdy girl.

So, I’m in the final stretch–where I have been before and where I will be again, but somehow it’s all new every time.

The Problem with Prequels: http://www.matchflick.com/column/1937

Michael Savage was on Talk of the Nation today because he has apparently been banned from entering the U.K. because of his hate speech. He was offended, of course, and kept talking about the first amendment, which does not apply to the U.K. He also mentioned the Magna Carta, but not in a way that indicated he had read the document.

Talk of the Nation is a call in show, so they took a call from a man who pointed out that if you replace “Christian” or “Jew” in place of “Muslim” when Savage talks, he might not be on the air.

Savage interrupted him and said he wouldn’t stay on the show if he had to listen to people calling from insane asylums in their pajamas. He ended up hanging up on the show.

Yes–our defender of free speech, who makes sure he has all the freedom to speak and all the freedom to not let anyone else do so in his earshot.

The other news: had meeting with the boss about my future (meaning will I be invited to be more permanent in three years). The good news: some of the highest student ratings in the department. The bad news: I thought my “file” was cumulative, meaning that whatever I added each year was added. I had been trying not to submit the same stuff again and again, but apparently that’s what I need to do for the next three years.

Not a problem, of course. I just feel silly.

What we’ve learned today:  students appreciate me, I’m not skilled at selling myself, Dan Savage is so much cooler than Michael Savage (that’s not even Michael’s real name, by the way).

I talked to my boss about giving me the news in short form, before our meeting on Tuesday (in which we will discuss my future and the findings of the faculty committee–I’m hoping this is going to have a positive tone, as have been working my ass off and get amazing teaching reviews and am on several committees–but might this not be enough?–perhaps not, which is the psychological belief that feeds my workaholism and anxiety).

That was a really long parenthetical remark.

Anyway:  I am only guaranteed 4 classes next year, as opposed to the 7 that constitutes a full load for a lecturer.

(Another long digression:  professors only have 4 classes as their full load, on the understanding that they do research and serve on committees and publish books–let’s leave aside the fact that I do all that.)

So, my University load is decreased 3/7ths, which is going to adversely affect my income.  I’m not sure at this point how I’m going to supplement it, especially since I’ve been supplementing with a part-time job all along already.  Ken says we can cut things–violin lessons, cable, but that’s not 3/7th by any means.  I can’t even say I’m going to cut out books, because I’ve been using my research account (I get money in a research account when I teach freshman seminars in lieu of pay) to fund books, home-office supplies, and applicable conference expenses).

Speaking of which, I’m concerned that this cut will affect my ability to teach freshman seminars, to apply to teach summer abroad, etc. 

The good news:  the rain has cleaned my filthy car and I have a job for next year.  I am loathe to complain, as things could be much worse.  And I have to say that news, even moderately bad, is better than none.

So, here’s moderately happy Karma:

I was rereading Nickel and Dimed last night, as I’ve been asked to give a talk on it in a week and a half (the integrated studies students have read it and I’ve been asked to connect the text to next year’s campus book project, The Geography of Bliss.

Nothing in either text surprised me–I’ve read them both, but I was a bit surprised by my response last night.  Reading the text again in this economic climate is very different.  Loved ones are being laid off, friends are having problems finding jobs, and my own position is not (yet) secure for next year. 

It’s no good when bedtime reading causes anxiety attacks.

As many of you know, the possibility of a writer from The Simpsons coming to talk to my class has been dangling before me for some time now. Well, one woman at the show (not at the writers’ end) called yesterday to take the opportunity out of my sight.

She had been forwarded an email in which I recounted meeting Dana Gould (appearing on Bill Maher’s show this week) and him asking if I’d had anyone from the show visit my class. I had replied to him that I didn’t even know I could ask for that.

The woman from the show said, “And that’s funny. Because you can’t.”

That’s not funny. Now we know why she doesn’t work in the writers’ room.

At first, she said that they couldn’t have anyone speak because it might seem like an endorsement of my book (which is by nature and necessity “unofficial” (as basically all literary analysis/pedagogy books are, by the way)). I explained that the class wasn’t my book and that I was not after an endorsement.

Doesn’t matter.

So I asked if I could have a guest speaker after my book went to the publisher.

She said perhaps, but also reminded me that there are lots of Simpsons classes out there. (I’m not special.)

I had been thinking about trying to get one of the writers here next year as part of our “Conversations With Writers” series. I would hate to think that UC Davis students can’t speak to them because I’m writing / will have written a book.

I tried to salvage the situation by addressing another legal issue, since she kept talking about the legal problem of “endorsing” me. One of the things I need the show to tell me is how long a dialogue can I use and have them consider it fair use.

I try to respect intellectual property and am responsible for getting permissions, after all. Denise and I need to know these things and our publisher doesn’t know what use would tee the show off.

I tried to ask her and she just refused to hear what I was saying (it was like she was in “no” mode and had decided before she called that I would get nothing out of her). First, she said they didn’t have time to read my book and that they couldn’t authorize anything because they didn’t know what we were writing, no matter how well-intentioned we might be.

I wasn’t asking for a reading or an authorization.

So I tried to give her an example. There’s a five line exchange I want to use–how do I know if that’s “too much” and falls out of fair use.

She suggested that I use the DVDs to check the accuracy of the quote, as they can’t do that.

Um, I wasn’t asking for that.

“Could someone tell me what’s considered fair use?”

“No.”

I still don’t think she got what I was asking.

I’m extremely frustrated. I’m going to try to maintain my other contacts (who have all been very nice) so that perhaps one day I can get someone to say “ten lines is too much; nine is fine” or that they would be happy to have someone speak to us at UCD (which at least one writer did say, until we were told he couldn’t).

For the first time, The Simpsons has made me sad.

http://www.matchflick.com/column/1928