MA Semester Two, Week Twelve, Thirteen and rapidly entering Fourteen...

Okay, I'm jamming the weeks in here, but dudes, there's not much to report.  Classes finished with the final workshop a couple of Mondays ago at the start of Week Twelve, a monster session with four separate pieces to critique - a short story, two novel extracts and some flash fiction.  (Side-note: we haven't really dealt with flash on the course, though several people, me included, write and read it - but I think that's partly the legacy of the MA's history as a purely novel-writing course.)  The following day we had the last visiting lecturer - an editor with Gollanz who talked about all kinds of practicalities and dos-and-don'ts and the submission-to-acceptance-to-print process - all good stuff, though two and a half hours later I felt rather dazed and overloaded with information.  The rest of that week was taken up with frantic essay-finishing for Contemporary Fiction; the evil 6000-word paper was finally submitted on Tuesday of last week, Week Thirteen, and we all got fantastically drunk afterwards.  Two-for-one cocktails = WIN.

Next up was the submission for this semester's workshop course - 6000 words of fiction, which, in my case, means two chapters of the novel.  Since Wednesday I've been polishing and rereading and deleting and finding-and-replacing and scribbling all over printouts with a very fancy felt-tip pen that I found in the living room which is apparently a special 'art pen' and not designed for the likes of me with my underlinings and crossings-out - and I'm just about done, now.  I think.  Sort of.  So that's due today (Week Fourteen), and this time the University department's gone all high-tech and wants us to submit electronically, which is extremely fancy and modern and space-age.  Though things don't seem quite finished without a hard-copy.  Maybe I'll print a copy out and make a fake cover-sheet for myself so it all feels properly official.  Or maybe not.  We'll see.  Anyway I'll be submitting later today one way or the other, and there'll be more drinking.  (Right, classmates?)  Hurrah.  Then it'll be dissertation, dissertation, dissertation, all the way to September.  Scary.  This year's totally on speed; how the hell else could it be moving so quickly?

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