Fiction and science and science fiction...

I had a great meeting on Friday with a physicist from the Uni's physics department, briefing me on an upcoming physics conference which he is hoping will inspire me to write some fiction. (This is the first step towards the start of my writer-in-residence position which I will take up at the University's Science Faculty in January. What form it will take -and who will fund it! - is still up for grabs.)

It is always a thrill for me to go into a science department! But what was interesting about this visit for me, as someone who studied physics 20 years ago and really didn't have what it took to be a physicist, is that this time I was looking at everything differently. My "eye" has changed.

For example, someone was stripping posters off the walls in preparation for a new coat of paint. Something about the remnant (see pic left) spoke to me, but not because I understood the equations. It was something more aesthetic, less about learning and knowledge than about symbols, patterns, shapes, colours.

As we walked to get coffee in the common room (is that the term?) he showed me some of the posters on the walls talking about the team's current research. Wonderful terms jumped out at me: Catastrophe Optics! Quantum carpets! And while I am most definitely fascinated by the science itself, it was another part of me, the writer part, itching to take these phrases, to twist and turn them, to make them my own.

In describing to me the Aharonov-Bohm effect, whose 50th anniversary the conference is to celebrate, he drew this on the board:

My first thought? Not - Oooh, look at those magnetic fields! But: It's an eye. I am seeing things differently, and, more than that, I am now allowed to see things differently, to see them however I want. And that is truly thrilling.

The most moving part of the meeting was when we talked about my short story, The Painter and the Physicist. It was read out at a Liars League event, and you can hear the actress read it or read the text here. Now, I thought I had made this up. I did. I made it up. I had no knowledge of anything like this, of anything that concerned the thrust of the story, in which the Painter asks the Physicist what colour he imagines electrons, protons, neutrons to be. So - imagine my astonishment when this physicist said that he and his colleagues have spent much time discussing what colour they think an electron is! Chills went down my spine.

This has happened before, me making up a story and then someone telling me that it happened to them. And it's ALWAYS freaky. And yet, in some way, gratifying. I can't really say why.

Finally, today's lovely news: there is a story I have been trying to write for YEARS. I mean this (as Vanessa and others can testify.) It is basically about a mother dealing with her son's very bizarre behaviour. I tried it in so many ways, coming at it realistically, trying to find out why the son behaved the way he did, showing it to many, many writing groups. Never hit it. Then I was inspired by reading Paddy O'Reilly's wonderful short story collection, The End of the World (my review here) to try a brand new structure, and suddenly a new language appeared, something more experimental, more visceral. Aha!

This happened after my book was finalised, so I held on to it. And now it has been accepted for publication by Electric Velocipede - a (paying) print magazine that wanted something "a little weird" and that I have been wanting to make it into for quite a while. Stories published in  Electric Velocipede and the magazine itself have won Hugo and World Fantasy Awards - THE  awards for so-called "genre" writing, (sci fi, fantasy, speculative, steampunk and other categories) which actually, I have found since setting up the Short Review, reward some of the most wonderfully-written and imaginative fiction I have had the pleasure of reading.

Reviewing the Logorrhea anthology (edited by Elec Velocipede's editor, John Klima) shattered my shameful misconceptions of "genre" fiction, and it has been a dream of mine for quite a while to cross this artifical divide myself. I liked to think I was writing "literary fiction" and aimed my stories at lit mags that fit this  - but once I released myself from these self-imposed restriction, I discovered a whole new world. I now subscribe to Interzone, the UK's leading sci fi magazine and love it. Open your mind!

Now EV's 4 issues for 2010 are full already, so my story, Under the Tree, won't be published til 2011. That's something to look forward to.

It's time to talk about the thyroid

Ok, this is getting ridiculous now so it's time we talked about it. The reason I have been ill recently, and on and off for almost 7 years, is because my thyroid, the small gland in my neck which pretty much controls everything in my body, isn't particularly happy and is getting sluggish. And when the thyroid slows down, everything slows down. Of course, it's not just one organ, it's the whole system, everything is connected - liver, adrenal gland, etc... etc...

While I have been staying in and resting, my partner J has been explaining to people he meets that I am not well, and whenever he mentions thyroid, it seems as though everyone else - or at least, every woman, - has a thyroid problem too. And this is no exaggeration. For the past few days he has been coming home and saying, Oh, I told X about your.... and she's also got a thyroid....

What is going on here? Is there some kind of epidemic amongst women and no-one is talking about it? My mother has been taking thyroid hormones for years, as has my paternal grandmother. I would say that 50 percent of my female friends have or have had some kind of problem with the thyroid. Two friends this week told me they are having theirs tested. And now all these other women that J is randomly coming into contact with.

And in a lot of these cases, the thyroid gland isn't working properly because it is being attacked by the body's own immune system.

Why am I mentioning this here, on a blog about writing? Because when I had my first bout, almost seven years ago, which knocked me out for several months, my chiropractor, who is much more than just a manipulator of joints and gives advice on diet, nutrition and emotional well being, said: "Look where this gland is. It's in your throat. This is all about expression. Self-expression. Expressing your creativity."

This made a lot of sense to me at the time. I wasn't writing, I was just beginning to listen to that small voice which was saying "Isn't there something else you're supposed to be doing? Is what you're doing now really satisfying you?"

Of course, I am most definitely not saying that everyone is responsible for their health problems, that we bring it on ourselves. As someone who did study science,I know very well that "cause" and "effect" are loose concepts, difficult to determine in any situation. I can only speak for myself.

What I have experienced is that stress makes this much, much worse, and I am stressed when I am not expressing myself creatively. Of course, there are many other sources of stress. This latest bout came at a time of enormous pressure which both has to do with the product of creative expression (my book) and nothing at all to do with creativity (selling my book). In some ways, this "systems crash" has given me what I secretly wanted: an excuse to stay home, stay very very quiet, not talk to anyone, about me, about my book, about my writing. To hibernate, basically. In a strange way, my body gave me what I wanted because I didn't know how to do it myself.

So, I am writing this in the hope that others will come and share their stories. Is this some kind of epidemic? What are we doing to ourselves that one of the most important glands in the body, is being attacked by the body itself and we cannot function properly? There is no cure for this, the few options being offered involve taking synthetic versions of the hormones the thyroid gland is supposed to be producing. And apparently the most popular brand of this synthetic hormone is the fifth most prescribed medication in America!

If you Google "thyroid" and "epidemic" you get all sorts of things talking about too much soy, too much fluoride, etc... I am sure none of us is eating well enough, doing enough exercise etc.. But I am worried. This really worries me, and not just because it is affecting me. Is anyone paying enough attention here? This really shouldn't be happening, right? What are our bodies telling us?