I'm so postmodern

I'm currently reading Jeffrey Eugenides's Middlesex and am having some major breakthroughs with my writing. Not with the actual words on paper business of writing, but of the sitting and thinking hard aspect -- the 'composting' (incidentally, I think that the amount of composting time required to write a novel that is as complex and interwoven as mine was vastly underestimated...).

Oh! Disclaimer! Please don't think I am comparing my writing to that of Jeffrey Eugenides, Pulitzer Prize winner and one of America's greatest writers of contemporary literary fiction... okay, so that is a lie. I am comparing, albeit a little shamefully. Though (she says, stamping her foot), there can be nothing wrong with aiming high and using successful, admirable writing as a model for my own. Now if only he could create a couple of worksheets for me, I'd be set.

Here in Zurich, I am a member of two writing groups, each with three other wonderful writers. One group meets each month religiously, the other meets a little more sporadically, though usually every two or three months. The week before our meets, we email each other our submission, usually of around ten pages, and then we edit, respond, critique and praise each other's work in preparation for our meeting. When we meet, the three readers, often in conflict with each other, discuss problem areas as well as sections that they particularly enjoyed. The writer of the piece isn't 'allowed' to speak (theoretically) until after all feedback is given, removing the opportunity to explain yourself and justify any potential problems.

Every time I submit my writing, I am riddled with nerves. I assume people won't like it, will find inherent problems with any number of things (continuity of tense, embarrassing spelling or grammatical errors, flaws in characterisation, and - the worst - just 'not getting it') and will be secretly scoffing behind my back... how can I possibly think I have the ability to complete this mammoth task? And yet, every time, I am astonished that people seem to genuinely enjoy my writing. Yes, there are problems (such as 'I really sympathised with this character up until now, but what they just said just doesn't fit with my idea of who they are', or 'this sentence starts in past tense, moves into present, then ends back in past again'), but on the whole, I always leave our sessions feeling as though I actually can do this.

Back to Eugenides.

Some feedback that I continually receive is in reference to my use of point-of-view. I have chosen a very complex structure for my novel, and in order to tie all the flailing bits together, I have employed a grumpy old man to tell the story (I hate having to summarise complex areas of my narrative... just know that it is a whole lot more complicated than that). He makes appearances at the beginning and the end, but also continuously pops in throughout in order to provide comment to his own ability to tell the story, in the style of a metanarrative. Now, the critique that I often receive from my fellow writers goes along the lines of 'How would he know that? How could he know that X feels this way, or that Y is hiding there, or that Z wants this more than anything in the world?'. And so, despite my refutations that he is telling a story and therefore needs to invent the emotions and justify the actions of his fellow characters, I often find myself censoring my old man.

Eugenides doesn't. He has his narrator providing us with an intimate portrayal of his grandparents' first sexual encounter, of the complexities of his parents' relationship, of the events that occurred in the house down the street from his Grandmother... and I never found myself wondering 'how would he know this?'.

I have been reading a lot of interviews with Jeffrey Eugenides to try to uncover some of the challenges he found in writing this novel (which took nine years... *sigh*), and I found this segment, taken from www.3ammagazine.com, particularly interesting and relevant:

Eugenides: I've blended postmodern and traditional I think. My narrator in Middlesex is not entirely reliable; he's inventing the past as much as he is telling it. "You can't really know much about what you really know" is the bottom line, which is an old postmodern strategy. There's a lot of self conscious narration in the book, which is an issue in a lot of postmodern literature as well. Along with that, there are very old-fashioned narrative techniques in it, of telling about wars and the burning of Smyrna. But postmodernism is always recuperating old styles of narration. The one thing that I definitely believe is that strict postmodernists don't all believe that I believe in this power of story-telling. I think that people are still interested in this old-fashioned goals or traits of novels. Something that seizes you, that grabs your attention and gives you a ride through a book. So, I don't want to constantly frustrate the reader by taking him down on dead ends, at the dead end of literature or something -- that doesn't interest me. I want, in a way, a Classical shape to my books and a pleasing and elegant form to them, which is old-fashioned. But within that, I still have a lot of postmodern play without the continuing sense of relativism that… I got so tired of.

So that's it -- I've decided that I'm postmodern. And, apparently, a bit of a fan of writing magical realism. And I'm totally cool with that.

From now on, I'm not going to sensor my storyteller. He is going to be as verbose, arrogant and cumbersome as he likes, popping in and out of my story where he decides is right (yes, I know claims such as these, where the character has control and not the writer, are a little wanky... but they are true!), and screwing with everyone's idea of what is the 'correct' way to write a certain point of view. Iida, Stacy, Kristen, Jill, Libby, Daryl - you are all just going to have to deal with it.

Excitement!

After my last somewhat negative post, I thought I had better fill you all in on my current state of being - which is not at all like it was one month ago. I am EXCITED! I'm not sure if it's just the hypnobirthing techniques I've been practicing, but something in me has changed. I am feeling really in control of my pregnancy and imminent birth (okay, so not really in control - I mean, I am an Australian woman giving birth in a foreign country where I don't speak the language comfortably, and where I'm almost as far away from my Mum as I could possibly be), and I am pleasantly surprised by the way that all my research and study seems to be staying in my otherwise mooshy brain. Yes, occasionally I have a little private meltdown when hubby is here to give me a cuddle, usually over the language issue, but on the whole I am really excited. I mean, this little bean is going to be here soon! I'm gonna be a mummy, and Dunc's going to be a daddy. This is just plain awesome.

The thing that surprises me is that I am very excited about the actual birth. I know, right? How many people go around saying that? This is where I'm a little curious as to the effect that the hypnobirthing is having on my brain...

Fears...

I'm pregnant. And I'm in Switzerland. There is a lot that I am scared of (and of course a lot that I'm ridiculously excited about!), a lot of fears I have to face (arachnophobia, thankfully, not being one of them), and I don't know if writing about them will make them better or not.

I think that making a baby is a very scary prospect in the best of circumstances. And while having our first child in Switzerland was a very conscious decision, I have thrown myself in the deep end. This is not to say that I in any way regret this decision - it is definitely the right one for us! But there have been many times when I have thought 'this would be so much easier if I was back in Perth'. From the complex issues, such as which hospitals our insurance will provide cover for (not a simple answer, surprisingly) and how to find and employ an English speaking midwife, to the simple things, like where to buy maternity clothes, discovering the best way to find second-hand things, and knowing the word for 'pelvis'.

I'm scared of lots of things. And I don't want to be. I feel as if I just need to trick myself into not being scared, and then I will magically somehow become unscared. Positive affirmations and all that. To make this worse, I know that if I am anxious and fearful of my imminent labour, then this will make it more difficult and things are more likely to go wrong because I'm tense. So I'm just going to write them down and then maybe I can deal with them more easily.

I'm scared of the possibility of my fibromyalgia playing a significant role in birth. If it will, then okay. I just wish I knew.

I'm scared of wanting my mum here too much.

I'm scared of my husband feeling out of control and like he can't do anything. I want him to know what an important role he plays in the process, and that I wouldn't be able to do this without him.

I'm scared of everyone suddenly speaking German if something vital happens, and me not knowing what is happening.

I'm scared that my family will feel neglected somehow.

I'm scared that the hospital will be all hospitally (real word), and that if I finally make the decision to do a home birth, that I might for some reason wish I was in a hospital.

Funnily enough, I'm not scared that anything will happen to Beanie. I am totally sure that Beanie will be fine.

This is the end of that. Actually, the list isn't too long. And too many of them are me doing my usual business of worrying about everyone else all of the time... Hopefully one day I will look at this and giggle, because I'm on such a high about it all.

Saying all of that, I can't express how excited I am about meeting this baby inside of me. I am getting increasingly nosy about wanting to know if it is a boy or a girl, and some days I am certain it is a boy, others I'm certain it's a girl. Lately I'm leaning towards girl. Dunc is certain it's a boy. We've bet a pizza on it. I WANT TO KNOW! But the only way I'm finding out is when this little pea pops out. And I'm just going to have to wait. Eek!

January Goals achieved?

So, I know this post is a little late, but cest la vie. Welcome to my life. When I shared these 'totally achievable goals' with my friends, half the responses were positive (along the lines of 'great goals, girl, and totally achievable!') and half were... not ('are you trying to run yourself into the ground? Make "do nothing except grow a baby" your goal!'). I fall somewhere in between...

So. Ten goals. Going through it, I think I've acheived 7.5 out of 10 for my entirely achievable goals. Not a total fail. The next list will surely involve a few more points that incorporate the word 'relax'...

* * *

1. Work on my novel every day. Enough said.

Instead, I began my intensive German classes half way through January. And unless I want a novel that is full of simple sentences, horrific spelling mistakes and third-grader-vocabulary, I simply can't write literature and learn German intensively simultaneously. So I did my best, and that's okay. My novel was worked on a lot at the start of the month, and a little at the end, though it was consistently swirling around in there, composting.

2. Go for walks around Horgen. We are still new to this little village, and I haven't explored it enough. I want to discover the little nooks and crannies, the secret little waterfall in the forest I've heard about, find cute little shops here and there.

This simply did not happen. My totally legitimate excuses? 1. I began to suffer from increasingly severe pelvic and back pain that made it very difficult and painful to walk, and I was instructed to keep this to a minimum; 2. It was bloody cold. Like COLD. The kind of cold that perhaps only after a few years of living here I will begin to acclimatise to. I will save this village wandering for when it is a teeny bit warmer (say, over minus ten degrees). We did go for a lovely little frozen wander when me missed the train on Sunday... a blessing in disguise, despite the almost frostbite.

3. Eat healthily. I know that 'healthy eating' is often in the eye of the beholder, but for me, it means eating 2 fruit and 5 veg every day, eating a wholesome breakfast, and not snacking on junk. Hopefully this will also result in me gaining weight in a healthy manner.

I feel like I did pretty good here. I have been making healthy dinners, keeping my veggie intake at its usual high, and having yoghurt and fruit-laden bircher muesli for breakfasts. I am now also in the habit of always bringing a little container of nuts, seeds and dried fruit with me for throughout-the-day grazing, which means that my lunches and dinners are much more reasonably sized, as I am not entirely famished anymore! Okay, what am I saying. I am famished. All the time. Also having things like veggie sticks with tzatziki as snacks... I'm (mostly) being balanced and healthy about it. Still gaining stacks of weight though...

4. Read Hypnobirthing and do a little yoga every second day, depending on how my pelvis holds up.

Yes, I've been reading hypnobirthing, and I have been keeping up my yoga, but only once a week, as my doctor and chiro are saying this isn't the best for me right now. I'm using it for strengthening, rather than flexibility (which I have too much of) and opening (which I have already well and truly achieved)

5. Contact Horgan Seespital and organise to meet with a midwife for a tour of the hospital at some point.

Organised, not completed. But that's what I wanted!

6. Keep track of finances. Pay the medical bills and write up a spreadsheet to keep track of all this. Keep track of how much I'm spending on groceries, and alter it where need be!

Done and done! Big ticks there!

7. Unpack the spare room. This is difficult because we have nowhere to PUT stuff yet, until our things from Australia arrive (probably around the end of Feb), but I can make the first move and get it organised.

This is done, but not by me -- by my amazing husband instead. Physical effort and I are not friends right now.

8. Research baby items and decide what we need to buy, and where and how we will get it. I already know some of this, but not enough. We've talked about a lot of it, but we need to make some concrete decisions.

Feeling a lot more comfortable about this. Second-hand awesome pram is bought. Second-hand gorgeous furniture is bought. Second-hand everything else is in the process of being bought. New things, fun things, are still to come. :)

9. Get properly stuck into my German when my intensive lessons kick in half way through this month. Do my homework, study, write up vocab lists and grammar charts and stick them on the fridge.

Done! Loving my German at the moment (really? Did I actually say that?) and am really movitated. Did pretty well with my end of level test (36 out of 40, screwing up a couple of really difficult grammar questions and just reading one wrong - dagnabbit! And was the only one to get top top marks for my pronunciation - yippee!) and have now begun level 4.

10. Use dinner-time twice a week to speak to my lovely husband in German. He's so much more advanced for me, so I shouldn't ask too many questions and let him babble away too - make it good practice for him AND me. Also, try to get the guts to speak German more with our German friends, and don't be so afraid of ridicule.

Speaking German over dinner twice a week? Ha. No. This isn't happening. We are talking about complicated things at the moment... making big decisions, etc. So that doesn't really lend itself to German practice! We are writing emails and text messages and chatting often in German though (when did 'chatting' become the signifier only for 'webchat', and not for nattering over a cup of tea? Sad...). I am speaking German a LOT more though, with my friends and in public, and am not getting ridiculed at all! I'm sure that is often due to the loveliness of the friends I am attempting to speak with. My confidence is on the rise!

* * *

Spot the Frustrated Expat

Living in Switzerland obviously has its perks. In fact, I can say without a doubt that I absolutely love it here. If I haven't raved enough about the state of my life at the moment (and for the past year), then trust me when I say that I am living a dream. Living both among the mountains and on the shores of a lake, spending my time writing my novel and learning a new language, having a wonderfully loving and supportive husband, and now adding a teeny weeny baby to the mix... well, like I said, life is pretty darned good.

But.

MAN some things are annoying! A lot of them, not surprisingly, revolve around issues with the language barrier. Yes, I am learning German, and yes, I think I'm actually doing pretty well, considering the fact that very little of the German I hear in my day-to-day life is the German that I am learning. Ah, yes, the age-old issue of learning high-German while living in a place that speaks only Swiss-German. I am now able to (awkwardly, and with a ridiculous amount of mistakes) hold a reasonably meaningful conversation, but I'm definitely not anywhere near the level to be able to comprehend the ins and outs of a variety of important documents... and this is annoying!

TELL ME, JOHANNA, WHAT IS ANNOYING?

- I received a package in the mail today from the hospital that we are planning on using in order to bring Beanie into this world. I was so excited - I have been keeping an eye out for this little package of goodies! And so (you know what's coming) I open it, and out pours a bunch of gorgeous glossy booklets about pregnancy, birth, alternative options, midwives, the hospital itself, as well as all the forms and such that we need to check and fill out. And I can't understand any of it. So annoying! I am so excited about this, and it frustrates the hell out of me to not be able to just sit down with a big grin on my face and absorb all this new and exciting information!

- Bin collection! Instead of paying for this service in our taxes, we pay for it when we buy the bin bags (hence bin bags are stupidly expensive). After spending nine months figuring out the recycling system in the centre of town (and only the one time managing to actually get our stack of papers -- tied up with specific recycling string, not exceeding X cm in height -- collected and recycled!), we are now in a new place with a new system, a new timetable, and more secret, unspoken-about places where we need to take our cans, glass, plastic, cartons, cardboard, paper. I'm still yet to really figure out where everything goes, and when it should go there.

- Knowing where to buy things. For example: I need a new pillow! Where on earth does someone go to get this? Or a toilet brush? Or some wood-glue? Or some egg beaters? or Blu-tac? Or to get photos printed? Or a key cut? Or to find some salted butter? Or some moisturiser for stretch marks? Where is the Target equivalent where pretty much everything is there, and it's cheap-ish? Answer? There is none. Everything has a specialty store. Or else you have to go to Ikea. And we've gone this long without going (something I'm stupidly proud of), so I'm holding out as long as I can.

- The health insurance issue is, quite simply, the biggest pain in the butt. Ever. I could easily write a 5000 word rant on this issue, but let me just provide one small example: We paid for private health insurance and have waited the necessary length of time for it to kick in, and then we discover that there is actually a *secret list* of private hospitals and clinics that our health insurance company accepts. And none of them exist in our canton (state). Seriously? So public hospital it is (though the publics here are still absolutely top-notch)... but what exactly is included, what is upgraded for free, and what is not covered at all, remains entirely unclear, no matter how many times we ask. So it would not surprise me in the least if, as a little 'congratulations' present from our insurance company, we get a whopping great bill at the end of this, when we've been careful to ensure everything is covered.

- Not being able to talk to old people. This has really become apparent to me lately, what with my newly rotund belly. Elderly people are always smiling at me and starting up conversations on the train or the bus, or in the waiting room... but the Swiss German they speak is so completely foreign to me. I have tried, a number of times, to continue the conversation in high German (the language I'm learning) but it becomes stilted and the smiles soon fade. *sigh*

... etc. etc

So it would seen that there are a bunch of things that are annoying. I'm certain that all of these are things that anyone would have to deal with when moving somewhere so different, particularly to a place where they do not speak the language. I can only be thankful that so many people speak my language, and I can often (though definitely not always) turn to this to help me out. Occasionally I find myself thinking about what it would be like to be a Vietnamese immigrant in Australia, for example, where you look different, your alphabet is different, your qualifications are perhaps not accepted, and no one speaks your language.

And now we're back to me feeling lucky again. :)

My January Goals

So I know that it's already the 8th (almost 9th) of January, but I've come across this great blog (catelinden.com) and have decided to steal her idea of writing down monthly goals. They can be overwhelmingly huge or utterly trivial, but I want them to be achievable. If there's one thing I've learnt about myself in recent years, it's that I need to reduce times when I might judge myself as a failure. So it's all about setting achievable goals. If, for example, I was to write on here that I plan to put my clothes away or in the laundry each night before I go to bed, you should all reply and tell me that I am being an idiot, and such a goal for a messy (some call it 'creative') person such as myself is simply unachievable. You get the idea.

My totally achievable goals for January

1. Work on my novel every day. Enough said.

2. Go for walks around Horgen. We are still new to this little village, and I haven't explored it enough. I want to discover the little nooks and crannies, the secret little waterfall in the forest I've heard about, find cute little shops here and there.

3. Eat healthily. I know that 'healthy eating' is often in the eye of the beholder, but for me, it means eating 2 fruit and 5 veg every day, eating a wholesome breakfast, and not snacking on junk. Hopefully this will also result in me gaining weight in a healthy manner.

4. Read Hypnobirthing and do a little yoga every second day, depending on how my pelvis holds up.

5. Contact Horgan Seespital and organise to meet with a midwife for a tour of the hospital at some point.

6. Keep track of finances. Pay the medical bills and write up a spreadsheet to keep track of all this. Keep track of how much I'm spending on groceries, and alter it where need be!

7. Unpack the spare room. This is difficult because we have nowhere to PUT stuff yet, until our things from Australia arrive (probably around the end of Feb), but I can make the first move and get it organised.

8. Research baby items and decide what we need to buy, and where and how we will get it. I already know some of this, but not enough. We've talked about a lot of it, but we need to make some concrete decisions.

9. Get properly stuck into my German when my intensive lessons kick in half way through this month. Do my homework, study, write up vocab lists and grammar charts and stick them on the fridge.

10. Use dinner-time twice a week to speak to my lovely husband in German. He's so much more advanced for me, so I shouldn't ask too many questions and let him babble away too - make it good practice for him AND me. Also, try to get the guts to speak German more with our German friends, and don't be so afraid of ridicule.

2011 - The year of embracing Switzerland

It's December 31st.

Again.

Okay, so it was when I began writing this post...

It seems like a moment ago when I was writing my 2010 run-down back in our little studio apartment in Boll, summarising our leap into married life, our big cycling bonanza (one may say that these are in fact one and the same thing), and the subsequent decision of where we should choose to live for a year. I doubt there will ever be a year with more crammed into it than 2010 (well... 2012 just might!), but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't attempt a summary of 2011 anyhow!

2011: The Year of Embracing Switzerland

Number of apartments we called home: 4 (our teeny studio apartment in Boll, Google's temporary apartment in Zurich, our one-bedroom furnished sublet in Wiedikon, and our current 2 storey, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom, dream bathtub, dream view apartment in Horgen.)

Number of countries visited: 8 (Scotland, Australia, France, Belgium, Italy, Lichtenstein, USA, Canada... surely there's more?)

Number of attempts at snowboarding: 1 (No comment. No photo. No evidence.)

Number of visiting Aussies that slept in our living room: 9 (Mark, my parents, Dunc's parents, Sammy, Tom, Clare, Alex... I am SURE I forgot some!)

Number of international sporting tournaments participated in: 2 (weehoo for discovering Zurich Netball and Netball Switzerland!)

Number of enormous life-changing decisions made: 2 (Firstly, that we will make Switzerland our permanent home and not return to Australia in the foreseeable future, and secondly, that we are ready to start a family!)

Number of amazing new friends made: COUNTLESS! I forget how many until we cram them all into the one room for a housewarming party!

(I have surprisingly few friend photos! Need to get onto that...)

Number of books I finished reading: not enough

Number of books I finished writing: not enough

...I could keep going... number of times I threw up, number of physio appointments I attended for my ankle (bruised bones take a year to heal, people. Just say no.), number of bicycles we now own, number of musical instruments we now own, number of new cheeses I have tried, number of cafes that I will need to acknowledge once my book gets published...

It has been a great year, that is for certain. I have been reading people's posts about how 2011 was awful ('bring on 2012'), and I remember the same kind of comments from last year. And probably from 2009 too. This got me thinking (uh-oh, Dunc would say). It has been a very very long time since I looked back at a year and thought 'Gee, that sucked, let's start a-fresh'. My days of utter contentedness continue to grow with each passing year, and I consider each and every day how lucky I am. This must be the very definition of happiness.

Meanwhile, my New Year fortune cookie has something important to tell me: