Tomorrow could be boring

Hello from the 19th century!

I haven't quite finished my perfumery course yet. I should have finished it by now but the kind boffins at Plymouth Uni have given me a merciful extension. Just before Christmas, I received a nice surprise: I was awarded a prize for 'the best student submission of 2011'. An actual academic accolade! Nothing that would really matter outside a very small circle of specialists, mind, but an accolade nevertheless. I've just about recovered from the shock. Mind you, this course probably only has about 6 current students...

I'll finally get to visit the perfume museum in Grasse at the end of this month. It's something I've wanted to do since at least 2005 and although the upcoming visit will only be a short one, I am looking forward to it as though it was a pilgrimage of some sort. Well - to me, it kind of is. I cringe at my own nerdyness but there you are.

This week I've read through Septimus Piesse's 19th century The Art of Perfumery and half of Eugene Rimmel's The Book of Perfumes. These are in virtual format. On my desk await a stack of course books and photocopies, plus Ellena's book (the translated version, alas), Ackerman's 'A Natural History of the Senses' (a library copy to see if I need to buy it or not) and 'Lethal Laws' (a book about animal testing I've been reading for work). Whilst all this is indeed fascinating (and somewhat necessary), I am anxious that I won't have time to read George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones before Eastercon (for which we're already booked! It seems that we keep going every other year no matter how much I mean to change that pattern). I'm ashamed to admit that I've come to The Game of Thrones via the TV-series rather than through literary fandom.

Not to mention that fellow T-party writing group members Gaie and Sara-Jayne have both had books out which I really very dearly wish to read soon! I've not been a member of the T Party for years now because I can't get to London for the meetings, but I have now joined a local off-shoot of sorts, partially populated by ex-members of the aforementioned group. It's been absolutely fantastic to actively participate in a writing group again and it has re-invigorated that side of my life.

Meanwhile, I am very quietly hopeful that this year there may be more opportunities for me to do actual perfume work. The Christmas product I scented became a best-seller (probably mostly due to its colourful design but the scent had to play its part, surely?).

It's disappointing that my need for some form of time travel/time stop device is yet to be fulfilled but I suppose things could be far worse. I'm having quite a lot of fun lately, even if it does take half a day to excavate a path outdoors from underneath the piles of books.

Library closures - should we just accept them?

There have been many library closures in the UK and North America recently. Meanwhile South Korea is opening new ones. What's going on? Are public libraries obsolete? I wrote an article about this topic at Blogcritics and would love it if you took a look and spread the word. I'm not willing to give up on the concept of the library, though I think the current model does need to evolve.

Thanks to Philip Bradley for the permission to use his excellent library posters.

Roses and festivals

This month I have been mostly smelling of roses and attending festivals. If you're interested in what happened in Turkey during the rose harvest, head on over here - and if you'd like to see my Hipstamatic snapshots from this week's festival, check them out here.

 

Where was I?

That was a slightly longer breather from blogging than I expected. Newsflash, in no particular order:

- I was a Face of The Month for a Finnish global networking website. Ironically, all the links (except the one to Basenotes) are inactive at the moment because of a bit of a web crisis with our work website...

- In the last few months I've been to New York, Tokyo and Frankfurt. It's made me remember why I need to have luggage with wheels on (owiesoreshoulders) and have I been pleasantly surprised about my lack of worry and stress about travel in general. I did get a killer migraine on the way to NYC, though, but it didn't kill me.

- I'm now a student member of the British Society of Perfumers. Given my humble beginnings, this still boggles my mind.

- I've gone back to blonde.

- Speaking of perfumery, two of my product perfumes have made it through to production; one of them into a special product sold in over 700 shops worldwide. Did I mention about my mind being boggled yet? I don't know how to react to this. At the moment I'm fluctuating between bemused happiness and detached interest. I'm daring to hope that this could be the beginning of lots more of such instances.

- My book is progressing... slowly. I've approached the project with renewed vigour and have promised myself that the first draft of the manuscript should be finished by the end of the year.

- I'm reading eleventyhundred books at the same time. At least. The Big News is that one of them is a third Terry Pratchett book in a row. It's taken me almost 20  years in England to 'get' Pratchett. I'm now curious about foreign language editions. The jokes, tone and punnery must be very well translated and localised, right? I need to get a Finnish Pratchett book to compare.

- My mother's father's sister tracked me down on the internet and wrote to me. Turns out I have cousins and little cousins that would like to get to know me. As someone who has been used to having no family to speak of, this represents a bizarre situation: I am interested, too, but almost don't know how I am supposed to behave! Hopefully I'll get to meet some of this family when I next visit Finland. I had a similar situation making contact with my father's side of the family after my mother's death. This feels slightly different because the contact has come from my mother's side of the family. I guess I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that there are people out there who consider me 'family' at all.

Package from Finland

It felt like another birthday to get this in the post today! An old uni-friend of mine wanted something from UK a while back, so we agreed to swap parcels. The package contains two packs of Suffeli chocolate-covered corn sweets, one pack of Hot Rod spicy potato rings, more Finnish reggae and a book by Seppo Jokinen.

Yes, I realise getting junk food in the post all the way from Finland is pretty sad. At least at the Finnish Easter fair I was restrained and mostly bought porridge oats.

Tonight will be fun!

Eastercon report: Odyssey 2010

Odyssey 2010, The 2010 Eastercon, 2 - 5 April 2010
Radisson Edwardian Hotel, Heathrow, London, UK

If you have a greater than average urge to don a hat, waistcoat, beard or a ponytail (especially if all at once), you may be a Fan and not realise it. I currently seem to be making it to only one con, and even to that at the pathetic frequency of every other year. Each time I decide that I'd like to go to more of them. They are fun and fascinating events. Also probably one of the few places where you'll see teenagers with knitting needles instead of hoodies. Perhaps the only place.

Even though as a child growing up in Finland I was reading Lem, Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke and Vonnegut with the odd Edgar Rice Burroughs' Mars book thrown in long before I'd got into Star Trek and the original Battlestar Galactica, I didn't know anything about 'Fandom' before my first Eastercon in Jersey. I'm so glad I now know they exist. One of the first Fans (with a capital F) I met back then turned out to be a bit of a Fandom superhero, Peter Weston. We still only ever bump into each other and catch up at Eastercons. 

According to Mike Carey, the difference between a Comic Con and an Eastercon is that the former feels less connected and less personal and the latter feels more like a bunch of people who've known each other for ages. There must be so many levels of these cons I am completely oblivious to - fandom politics and hierarchy, for instance, but to a naive punter like myself the environment feels un-snobbish, welcoming, inclusive and exhilarating.

As always there were more interesting programme items than time, and short of creating a space-time anomaly, one had to choose. I left out the bondage workshops, animatronics and sword fighting techniques, but there were still plenty of sessions I would like to have seen and couldn't.

When talking about happiness, life coaches and other such bods often recite that experiences make us happier than material things. The good (or bad, depending on one's viewpoint) thing about Eastercons is that they provide you with plenty of both.

FRIDAY 2.4.2010

9am

We pile into the Smart, put on Jokaiselle Tulta and drive down to Heathrow. The journey is shorter than two years ago because we now live in Farnham instead of Horley.

10am

Life of a Hydrogen Atom, Nik Whitehead

At first I am slightly concerned because the black and white Power Point presentation that greets us seems like an example of 'How Not To Use Power Point' from my presentation skills course. Within seconds, Nik's charismatic delivery and humour override any such doubts. She makes the session feel as though I've been given the pudding before the main meal.

"You're a different audience - different in all the right ways," she quips at one point.

Nik takes us through Life, Universe and Almost Everything in one hour, from the Big Bang to a sobering look at what might happen to our Universe in the end.

Current contenders are:

- The Big Freeze = if our Universe is considered to be open and will continue to expand ad infinitum, it will eventually suffer a heat death.

- The Big Crunch = if our universe is considered to be closed, it may eventually stop expanding and crunch inwards; possibly creating another Big Bang in the process. (Apparently this line of thinking is falling out of favour)

- The Big Rip = Everything will be torn apart by the expansion of the Universe and there will be 'rips' in space-time.

Luckily for us, our Universe is only around 14 billion years old. Still, I do frequently suffer from what could maybe be described as existential depression.

Afterwards, I reflect on how irritating I find it when people prefer superstition and woo to the marvels that are right here and very real. We are all made from stars. Fact. How much more amazing could things be?

11am

Comics 101 - Essential Comics for New Readers, Sam Sykes, Claude Lalumière, Mike Carey, Crazy Dave

"Comics is not a genre. It's a medium."

The panel throws out so much excellent commentary and information that I fill 5 pages of my notebook. It is nice to see Dave Mansfield again though I don't think he recognises me from 2008. (If you're reading - hi Crazy Dave!).

One segment makes me hold my breath a little. "What would you recommend to a child who is new to comics?"

I feel too intimidated to comment at this point, just in case mentioning Asterix, Lucky Luke and Tintin would be thought of as dorky. Relieved that someone else puts their hand up and mentions them instead. Also lament that Marsupilami never really made it over here.

Of course, coming from Finland, my comic book reading was hugely influenced by the Moomin comics, as well as Aku Ankka. I don't mention these.

I'm impressed by Claude. He is insightful and articulate. At one point he says: "Comics is a language - if you haven't been exposed to it from an early age it can be hard to decode." Of course this could be some kind of industry cliché I am blissfully unaware of, but it was certainly one of the most thought-provoking moments for me.

The discussion touches on the lamentable decline and eventual disappearance of newsstand comics, which has probably been one of the biggest causes of declining readership over the last couple of decades. I wonder if we could start some sort of a movement to bring comics back. Maybe that would be as likely to succeed as getting your kids really into radio plays.

Here are some of the recommendations:

 Flight anthologies - about storytelling and a sense of wonder.

Alfred Bester's The Stars My Destination as a comic. Apparently very hard to get hold of.

Starstruck.

Transmetropolitan.

Schlock Mercenary (web comic)

Ultimate Spiderman (if you want to get your superhero-fan kids into comics, but don't want to make their head explode by all the back-story).

Sam Sykes recommends Uzumaki by saying: "Are there any Japanese people in the audience?" No hands go up. He continues: "Good, because I might have phrased this a little differently otherwise. If you want truly weird shit, you've got to angle in that direction."

Walking Dead (apparently drawn by a really lovely bloke who once drew Dave a picture of a mad zombie scientist).

Sam also recommends The Boys, which he describes as a "a really horrible, violent comic." I'm beginning to spot a theme with Sam.

Claude mentions Love and Rockets, which I am chuffed about because I've only recently discovered it myself.

Palomar was described as magic realism, which makes me think that I must look it up immediately.

Beanworld is recommended for kids. Apparently it's about walking, talking beans.

Palestine is mentioned as an excellent achievement of conveying complex issues and the genuine horror of war.

Dave explains the general gist of A Super Girly Top Secret Comic Diary. Sadly it seems to have drawn to a close.

The Age of Bronze is mentioned as a good example of historically well researched project.

The Sandman comics, Lucifer and a nifty manga website are mentioned by members of the audience.

12pm

Lunch - shredded carrot and currant salad from the con Buffet. A bit soggy.

1pm

Iain Banks Before the Wasp Factory, David Haddock

The editor of Banksoniain fanzine takes us through what Iain was writing in the 60s and 70s. We hear anecdotes about his early adventure stories and terrible character names. My husband has to explain to me why Toss Macabre is funny.

2pm

Allergies - an Introduction to Our Current Understanding, Brian Gray

"Histamine is basically molecular teargas."

Who knew talking about snot could be so entertaining? Brian is a super-charismatic, knowledgeable, educated and a less creepy version of Sideshow Bob. His presentation is engaging and informative. I leave with a well-put-together handout and a grin. I'm also now jealous of North Americans' anaphylaxis kits. Mine is pretty pathetic by comparison.

3pm

Was going to go to: Writing Steampunk. Instead end up at: Battlestar Atlantia (LARP intro session)

 The hotel corridors are plastered with these cool posters. Both Timo and I are big fans of the new Battlestar Galactica. Even my text message alert goes: "By your command" in a cylon voice. But I digress. I've not done Live Action - or any other kind of - role playing for a very, very long time. I probably won't start again now. However, I must have one of these posters. So I head to the games intro session and speak to the artist. She is delighted that I like her work and lets me have one of the spare copies. I'll frame it later.

I spend the remaining time browsing through the dealer room (for those who don't know what a dealer room is; it's a science fiction fan market with everything from clothing, jewellery and books to two-headed bears). I pass the Genki Gear stall twice before admitting to myself that I must buy at least one of their t-shirts.

4pm

Utopia - How the Concept Has Developed in Philosophy and SF, Iain M. Banks, Elizabeth Counihan, Edward James, Nik Whitehead

"In order to create Utopia, you have to destroy what was there before."

A fascinating discussion about the very definitions of Utopia and Dystopia. "Utopias are fun to live in, but crap to write about," said Iain at one point. He clarified by stating that it's much more interesting to write about what he called the peripheral stuff; where conflict occurs.

"Brave New World seemed like a Utopia to the Americans at the time: hey, free drugs!"

5pm

How Writers, Artists and Illustrators Interact, Mike Carey, Al Davidson, Deidre Counihan, Chris Moore, Steve K

 

There is a definite difference between book jacket illustration and graphic novels/comics in that the former is more like packaging design. It's meant to sell a product. There is some more discussion about how novelists and illustrators interact. I've never properly thought about what goes into comic script writing and the session ends up focusing on this topic fairly heavily. I learn about the old Marvel 3-step process and what happens these days instead. The best part is when everyone starts to share their war-stories about demanding agents and ridiculous art direction. Mentioning no names, of course.

I discover that Mike Carey is a fellow book-sniffer and find this delightful. There's nothing like a science fiction convention to make you feel less like an outsider.

 SATURDAY 3.4.2010

It's my birthday and we decide to have a slow start. This allows me to open presents, the winner of which is this super-awesome Irregular Choice bag. I immediately turf out all the junk from my current handbag and put the new one into use.

 

 

10:30am

We bump into Martin Owton, Dave Gullen, Gaye Sebold from the T-party. I make a feeble attempt to explain why I've let my membership lapse to never-seen associate status. Martin suggests I should try the (now) local to me writing group he is a member of in Farnborough.

11am

Guest of Honour: Iain M. Banks, interviewed by Jane Killick

I am beginning to understand why the only two authors I really couldn't seem to get into when I first started reading English fantasy and science fiction as a non-native speaker were Terry Pratchett and Iain M. Banks. Who knew space opera could be so...colloquial?

Iain is animated, charismatic and charming. His talk keeps everyone entertained and the hour whizzes past.

I am still catching up with my Banks reading. I've gone up the science fiction 'branch' of his career first.

Iain's fantastic Scottish accent is beginning to flavour my internal dialogue.

12pm

Bad Science, Ben Goldacre

"All Men Will Have Big Willies"

At first I couldn't believe my luck when I saw that Ben was going to be here too. You'd just have to throw in some kind of olfactory lecture and it'd be perfect programming for Pia.

There are some technical difficulties in the beginning. Ben ends up with his laptop on a chair, on a table and comments: "Now that the Pierrot-part of my presentation is over..."

A great presenter, Ben shows that he's done this sort of thing on stage before. The early technical hitch cuts the show short, which is a shame because everyone is enjoying themselves immensely.

I already know most of the stories he tells us because I've got his book and read his blog, but I'm thrilled at the opportunity to see him in action.

1pm

We pile out of the room and to my surprise, Ben stops me: "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

We talk for about an hour and Timo joins in half-way through. I tell Ben about the book I'm working on and he scolds me for not pulling my finger out and sorting it out already. He threatens to write it if I don't.

We end up missing what we were planning on doing and decide to have something to eat instead.

I pop to the dealers room and treat myself to an adorable (very flattering) portrait done by Al Davidson. I can't resist the pull of another Genki t-shirt, so I reason that it's my birthday and who needs to eat lunch anyway? I end up chatting with Lydia on the stall and she tells me about their adventures as an independent company.

Sara-Jayne Townsend from the T-party is also in the room and we stop and chat for a while about her new book Suffer the Children. She is quietly hopeful, but very down to earth about it all.

3pm

Drawing Comic Art, Al Davidson

"Never commit too early to your lines."

I signed up for this session, which is lucky since it seemed over-subscribed. There aren't enough chairs and the arrangement is awkward for Al because he needs to draw onto a flip chart from a seated position. Somehow Al manages to run the session with ease despite these difficulties. He shows us some of his Doctor Who original artwork panels, discussed various drawing techniques - and we get to participate in some quick lessons in comic art short-hand. It's amazing how much Al is able to fit in. I learn a lot, but leave wishing I could sign up for a course taught by him.

4pm

Whisky tasting with Iain Banks

Did you know that Iain's original idea for a science fiction pen-name was a blend of his favourite whisky brands at the time?

We didn't sign up for this session, which means we were banished to the back rows and only got a few glasses passed around to us. The volume of audience 'participation' increases in tandem with number of whisky samples. The mods seem annoyed by this, but I don't mind. It's like a strange kind of bar with pauses for tasting notes. To my delight, the discussion touches on olfaction a fair amount, at which point I am able to contribute a little. Now it really is a perfect programme for Pia.

The whisky tasting ends at 6pm and we head home. I only sniffed, so I'm driving.

SUNDAY 4.4.2010

10am

Biggest Biological Tropes in SF, Stephen Gaskell, Paul McAuley, Michael Owen, Sharon Reamer, Gary Stratmann

"Life as we know it (if there's a Jim in the audience)".

The usual topics of carbon-based life forms versus the possibility of silicon-based; what IS life anyway and all that jazz gets covered. Very interesting, but find myself once again mesmerised by Paul McAuley's brain.

The question of "is there another type of life on Earth that we just haven't discovered yet?" is an interesting one.

Gary has a fantastic way with words: "The broader question of life is easily answered - it's DNA versus Lego." And: "It's been important to human psychology to believe we are special."

11am

Guest of Honour: Alastair Reynolds

"It's a great time to be writing science fiction. Science moves faster, so you just have to work a little bit harder."

Alastair presents a journey through early science fiction to modern writing by drawing on the theme of how science and fiction interact. He puts developments in the genre in political and cultural context and admits to still hoping that faster than light travel could be possible.

He mentions his frustration at not knowing what will be discovered by science after he has gone and I nod in agreement. It's one of the most annoying things about being curious.

12pm

We pick up a copy of Murky Depths from the dealers room. This is a new one for me, but the sample copy I picked up looked interesting.

Pictured: our book haul from the con.

2pm

Best Unread  (in English) European SF books, Jonathan Cowie, Jo Fletcher, Kirill Pleshkov, Hannu Rajaniemi, Christian Sauve, Ian Watson, Cheryl Morgan

Discussions about the difficulties of translation - and specifically - interpreting the content correctly are always fun, given my background, but I was cheating a bit and mostly looking for some good Finnish recommendations. Hannu mentioned Karsta, Apina ja Uusikuu and Lumikko ja Yhdeksan Muuta. I'll have to get hold of them when I next visit. I didn't know that 'New Weird' was called 'Uusi Kumma' in Finnish. It sounds funny.

3pm

Guest of Honour: Mike Carey

Mike is interviewed by Paul Cornell. The conversation moves fluidly through Mike's works. I am charmed by both of them. I hadn't noticed how much Mike looks like Lucifer in the comics until Paul points it out.

The pair cope admirably in what can only be described as a Monty Python-moment when two gophers decide to sweep the stage during the talk.

MONDAY 5.4.2010

10am

Language and Dialect in Writing, Iain M. Banks, Gary Couzens, Jude Roberts, Cheryl Morgan

The description of this panel featured a question I would have been interested in: "How interdependent are language and culture?"

Instead most of the panel focuses on Culture; which is still fine and entertaining, given that we're in the company of the person who invented it and another one who is writing her PhD on it. Audience participation moves the discussion towards personal experiences and reading of accents - how much we use accent and dialect as a social marker and so forth.

Timo suggests that I should give Feersum Endjinn a go. Iain says he wanted to make a short book longer "...so I thought I could slow it down by making you have to figure out 'what the hell is he saying now?'"

1pm

Was: Climate Scepticism: Pros and Cons, but we tossed a coin and went for Just a Minute instead.

Just a Minute, a rip-off of the game by the same name. John Dowd, Lisa Konrad, Sue Mason, Neil, Henry Proctor and Alastair Reynolds.

Some of the topics: the geography of Radisson Edwardian hotel, the colour blue, potatoes.

I manage to speak to Alastair briefly after the panel. He surprises me by guessing I'm Finnish and recommends Tahtivaeltaja magazine to me. He clearly has fantastic taste.

2pm

Black Holes For Beginners, Nik Whitehead

"Singularity really means: shit, we don't know what the maths is doing here. It's where it all breaks down."

I realise that we've come a full circle and end our con with another Nik Whitehead item. This session is even more fascinating than the first - probably because it involves so much more tantalisingly unknown and mysterious material.  I wish I could attend lectures by Nik all the time, but I doubt I'd have the smarts for it.

She mentions the 'spaghettification' of space-time and I can't resist shouting out: "Does that mean the Pastafarians are right?"

3pm

We're hungry and knackered and decide to head home. We're in the lobby paying for our parking when I lament to Timo that I hadn't had a chance to get my copy of Lucifer signed by the author. At this point, in a spooky replica of the John Meaney-moment from 2008, Mike Carey turns up and I get my autograph. He asks us whether we enjoyed the con and we try not to be too tongue-tied.

Homeward Bound

Listening to Plastic Beach on the way home, we discuss the con and how it feels for it to be over and whether we'll be going to the next one, or the one after that. Maybe the every-other-con pattern will continue, which may be just as well considering  how much you come away with. We pick up a bottle of Dalwhinnie 15-year-old. Cheers, Iain!

 

 

 

See the 2008 report here!

Chemicals and mind-crushes

Isn't the picture Grant drew adorable? It makes more sense if you read my new column at Basenotes. This is the second in the series, entitled "A Very English Problem".

I've also got a new mind-crush in the form of Dara O'Briain. His rant about homeopathy and nutritionists is brilliant. Best quote: "Science knows it doesn't know everything or it would have stopped."

I brought back a toxic book from the library: "Toxic Beauty: How Hidden Chemicals in Cosmetics Harm You." It's written by a Reiki-healer who is convinced she knows what she's talking about, a bit like an astrologer might be convinced she knows better about heavenly bodies after talking to some people at NASA. I would despair, but luckily I've built up some resistance to this by now and my own chemistry studies are adding a whole new backbone to the way I view these scare-mongering messages nowadays. Once I finish my course I should really focus on the book I've been researching for the past few years and get it out there. It's time people stopped worrying about insignificant things and started worrying about stuff that could cause real harm instead. To themselves, to the environment and ultimately to the existence of human life itself. Trust me, whether we ingest a bit of lipstick isn't on that list.

Packing books

We have well over a 1000 books squished into a studio. We need to put them into storage so that normal people can come and view this flat. For us, living in a tiny library has been good. For most people, this flat would have seemed rather full up. Granted, we do now want to move (and no doubt we will fill up the new place with even more books), but the move has more to do with wanting a good location for us to settle down in and for both of us to be able to commute from.

These are the boxes so far. There is a second row behind these that's not visible. The stack was a bit taller to start off with, but Timo re-organised them after they fell on me whilst I was sleeping.

Speaking of commuting, I have some news. My new-new job is starting tomorrow. I'll need to be closer to the coast and so really can't wait to move. It'll be more overnight stays until then. I can't quite yet begin to believe what's happening. The current company I work for is one of the few in the whole world who do all their own product scents and fine fragrances in-house and buy their own materials. I'm very lucky to even work for them, much less be in the situation I am.

My job has involved bits and bobs in the lab; nothing too official, some experiments, some collaborative work here and there, that sort of thing. They have always known that I'm like an eager little puppy wanting to learn more, but I've also always known that I am one of many others who would like a slice of their time. I've made it very clear that my aim was (and is) to learn about perfumery and cosmetic science; I started self-study before I joined this company and have taken steps to brush up on my basic science skills (all the Open University stuff I've been doing). I was determined to find some way of getting diplomas or other qualifications - there are various courses available - but nothing beats practical experience and being taught by gurus in the industry. So it's been a case of hoping for the best and expecting nothing.

I've now officially become a Trainee Perfumer. The IFEAT Diploma course I've been so wanting to do starts soon (amazing) and I'll be doing lots of basic work at our factory and lab, learning the ropes and helping out where I can. I'll carry on doing a few other things too.

Yes, I've worked in the cosmetics industry for 20 years, so yes, for many people I know this latest development is probably a "duh". But it seems like a very big deal to me. From my novice experiments in this very flat (in 2005) to here has been an incredible journey.

Library lament

This could very well be (at least part) childhood nostalgia warped memory, but I'm pretty sure libraries in Finland are much better than the ones in UK. On the other hand, in UK, I can have access to documents that would be out of reach if I still lived in Finland. Yes, I can register as a reader at the British Library and research to my heart's content. I can go to my old college and sniff my way through their rare collections.

Yet what I mean by "better" doesn't relate to the availability of hard to obtain data. I guess what I mean, is the state of the everyday, local library. The one where I live now has just had an expensive "re-vamp". The main change being that it now smells slightly less damp in there. The selection of books still seems like a set of cast-offs from Lake District B&Bs and what was left over from Uncle Jack's car boot sale. There is no child and parent area. There is nowhere for you to sit down and read. A metal rack in front of the customer service desk offers dated DVDs for rental. It's soulless.

Libraries played a huge part in my love affair with books. I'd go to the one in Kouvola when visiting grandparents during school holidays. Being a child, it obviously seemed more vast and cavernous than it really is, but its size wasn't the only awe-inspiring element. Back in the late 70s, it felt high-tech for having children's audiobook tables by which you could perch with headphones not too unlike the ones sported by Princess Vespa of Druidia and listen to stories to your heart's content. There was a large children's book section from where I borrowed such gems, as Edgar Rice Burrough's Mars series and the more mundane, yet obvious titles like "Little Women" and "Treasure Island". The SF section was amazing - and much bigger than the one at my school library where most of the books were in Russian for a start! One of the main genre publishers (Kirjayhtymä) had decided on a uniform font and a black&white jacket cover design, which made it easy and moorish to select SF books. I'd stand there staring at rows and rows of books that looked alike, knowing they'd all be exciting somehow. I read Asimov, Aldiss, Brin.... Heinlein - in fact I suspect I might have read the whole section alphabetically from start to finish. 

The summer visits were best because I was allowed to borrow a big pile of books, take them to our cottage and then bury my head in them whilst trying to avoid my mother dragging me into the sun.

The library in Pasila, Helsinki was something else too. I lived in that area for a short time in my late teens. The building looked pretty awful on the outside (there is a particular widely used "modern" style of Finnish architecture that emanates a kind of bureaucracy-aesthetic). Not really paying attention to the exterior at the time, I happily devoured the delicious selection on the inside.

That's just two Finnish libraries that hold particular significance to me, but I've used many more. The little ones in suburbs, the huge ones in Helsinki, a library bus.

And something just feels better about them. When I move to a town, or visit one for a long time, I look out for the library. So far I've been to a dozen or more local libraries in UK and have been dissapointed every time. They all seem to be a book-slum; the lowest common denominator, like a charity shop for books (except some charity shops have better selections). They make me melancholy.

I understand there are funding issues - but there are similar issues in Finland. I am sure my points of reference are out of date in regards to the state of the Finnish library system, but I'm trying to account for equivalent degradation when making mental comparisons.

Perhaps the difference is that Finns are a nation of public-service lovers, unionised in workforce and have proportionally higher percentage of people who seem to be born administrators.

I don't think that Brits love books any less than Finns. It has to be about the bureaucracy-aesthetic; after all, its appreciation in architecture is only a manifestation of a deeper, cultural feeling for what's right and what's wrong. Maybe that's the very thing that keeps Finnish libraries breathing whilst similar public services in other countries slowly suffocate.

On geeks, categorising and marketing

"The more I think about it, the more geeky I realise I am," I said to Timo today. Having just returned from Eastercon, it's no wonder I've not floated down to "somewhat normal"  yet.

"What, you're surprised by that?" Timo replied.

"No, what I mean is that there are a few things I'd always taken to be my little quirks, which I now realise are traits shared with many others. This sounds so naive, but I really didn't think that there'd be so many people for whom having complete sets of things, or having such sets categorised and organised in some specific way would be as important."

I'm not a collector; not exactly. There are very narrow areas in which I'd say it's important to have the set for its own sake. Mostly that happens to me with books.

Today, whilst dusting the shelves (and looking for Timo's copy of Coraline, which Neil Gaiman's comments during the Darker than Potter panel made me want to read), I spotted a pattern.

The book series for non-SF/Fantasy fiction, say, by a Finnish crime publishing house, are uniform in colour and typeface, but don't have numbers on the spines. Same goes for "modern classics" and, upon further inspection, all other mainstream fiction series we have knocking around. Hmm.

Whereas - most of the SF/Fantasy book series are numbered. Even "...best new SF" uses this device, even though it might have made sense to print the actual year for which these are meant to be the "best" collections for. Instead they've sequenced using numbers. And the numbers are big on the spine too; it'll be really obvious if you've missed one.

I wonder if this is a deliberate attempt by marketing departments to tap into the geeky tendencies of the target audience for these books. If it is, it's working and I'm impressed.

Something else that's impressed me - Neil's business sense and his ability to use it in subtle and effective ways. Coraline did get mentioned rather a lot during the con and what do you know; it's due to be released as a film soon.  And if you're quick, you can still download a free copy of  American Gods from his website (but expect to feel the urge to buy it afterwards - the sales of this book have gone up significantly since the freebie offer).

Someone asked Neil: "Since you record and sell audio books, does it bother you that these have been made illegally available via peer-to-peer download services?"

He replied by asking how many people in the audience had found their favourite author by buying a book they knew nothing about, apart from the blurb on the cover. Some hands went up. He then asked: "How many of you found your favourite author for free; through borrowing a book, or by some other means?" A forest of arms shot up.

"See?" said Neil.

By doing this sort of thing, he is clever on so many levels. Instead of demonising potential fans, he works with them. Instead of struggling upstream against the inevitable changes in how the market and technology is evolving, he swims with the current and uses it to his advantage.

I've got into the habit of listening to podcasts and audio books whilst sat at airports waiting for delayed flights, or trying to relax in uncomfortable hotel rooms. I found Stardust as an audio book on iTunes, narrated by Neil - and am now tempted to buy it. Can't decide whether it would be silly, considering I have it as an actual book (now also autographed; thank you very much!).

There is no way I'd use a peer-to-peer service, just in case you're wondering.

Orbital2008 (That's how we're tagging it)

[EDIT: See the 2010 report here!]

This year's Eastercon was the best one I'd been to. Orbital 2008 was held at the Radison Edwardian hotel, Heathrow and I went for the whole weekend with my husband Timo. Didn't think anything would beat the 2002 con in Jersey, but I was wrong. Not that I'm a seasoned con-goer and a fan, unlike the veterans celebrating their 40th Eastercon, but nevertheless, measuring by my own tiny scale, this one tops the lot.

Perfume; the book, the film and my obsession

Some time has passed since I first wrote here about being a nose. Things have moved on for me in that department - and in many ways to a stage beyond what I first expected, or dared to hope for. Let me explain.

I tend to throw myself in fully when engaged in a project and this one has been no exception. I would say though, that the perfume thing for me, well, it's much more than a project. It's been a long-running thread from an early age. I'm not comfortable with, nor do I wish to limit myself to, just one career, one purpose, or one label, but among the many labels I've happily collected over the years, I am now proud to add "a perfumer-in-training" to the list. (I might write about the label-collecting and related discoveries soon. It would require a post in its own right though. I've had a fairly life-changing month, actually).

Much of my previous perfumery related experience came from a highly commercial side of things. First, as a keen consumer, then as a sales assistant, then, after a number of detours and other career paths, as the training manager for a UK cosmetics and perfume distributor.

From there onwards, lines started to blur. I was no longer content knowing about the fragrance houses, sales figures, packaging, merchandising, sales techniques, press launches and so on - I wanted to, no, needed to understand and learn how to make perfume.

Perfume Distiller - Grasse
Originally uploaded by Nathan Rawlins.

Whilst in the employment of the fragrance distributor, I had the opportunity to scratch the surface. I was exposed to some of the raw materials, to some of the extraction methods and to miniature perfume-organs (collections of raw materials and essential oils, from which a perfumer can select the "notes" for a perfume in the making).

Many years passed. I took my training management skills, combined them with my largely self-taught knowledge in computer software and the Internet, became a training manager for a UK software developer and spent a while immersed in a completely different world.

My passion for perfume and the inspiration that continuously bursts forward from the olfactory world all around us was not gone, far from it, but it lay somewhat dormant. I was content to be a consumer for the time being, with my mind occupied elsewhere.

And now, I'm once again involved in work that has fragrance in its heart. What's more, I have been making my own prototype perfumes, face oils, massage oils, massage bars and other experiments at home. I'm using myself and some close friends as guinea pigs. Much of my current work is limited by lack of financial resources (getting into real perfumery tends to be quite expensive, as many of the raw materials are costly and difficult to obtain). I have been able to progress, slowly, but yes, I've definitely made progress.

Eventually I would like to be able to set up a small business selling these products. I'm not interested in that just yet because the time isn't right. I consider many of my current activities as part of the learning process towards this goal and that's good enough for right now. But once I am ready, the small business will hopefully pave the way for a bigger venture. I have much larger business aspirations for some yet-to-be-determined future date. The bigger business plans depend on whether I am personally and financially ready before someone else develops my idea (the idea I've had is so obvious that it's only a matter of time before someone does it; as such, I know it's a good idea, but as such, I also realise that I may need to once again watch someone else realise a dream I've had. No matter. I've got plenty of ideas).

Something else has happened; something that I certainly wasn't expecting. The company I work for is known for developing all its own perfumes and fragrances (most companies tend to commission flavours, fragrances and perfumes from a handful of players in the big-boys network).

Through a series of seemingly disconnected events, I was invited for a day in the company's laboratory. This happened a few months ago. I was absolutely over the moon about it! Nervous, excited and everything in between. The day went well and resulted in a mini project. I was asked to develop a prototype perfume (not a commercial one, but more like a sensory journey). I did so and was able to present it to the powers that be a couple of weeks ago. I was then invited back to the lab for a further day's experimentation.

I don't know where this is leading (maybe it won't lead anywhere; not everything does, or has to), but the journey itself has already been worth its weight in Orris Absolute. Really, I'm not sure how I could describe how it has felt - it is an opportunity of a lifetime; something money couldn't buy. Not just the ability to experience materials I've only read about (which has enabled me to start training my nose to recognise them), but to be able to receive what one could almost describe as apprentice-like gentle tutoring by people who do this sort of thing successfully for a living and are some of the pioneers in the industry. It's been wonderful and I treasure it.

The downside (if there is one to be had), is that my little escapades to "The Lab" are but a drop in the sea for a very busy international company and for the schedules of everyone involved. From my perspective, these things have been huge, but from theirs, it must be just a blip in the radar. I am waiting to see if I would be able to return to the lab, or to be able to get involved in some other way. Such news may never come, or they may appear when I least expect them. So in the meantime, I've withdrawn back to home experiments.

What all this has done though, is given me the added confidence of knowing that this is something worth pursuing and that things are only as real and tangible as we want them to be. Because I've persisted and worked on this, something is materialising, even though I don't know quite what that is yet. And for now, maybe that's enough.

Needless to say, I have been reading everything about, or relating to perfume for some time and with gusto! I read "Perfume" by Patrick Süskind last year and although it's obviously much more about the human condition, about macabre banality of life, and about morals and murder, it is also a delightful (if quite disturbing) exploration of perfumery using techniques commonly found in magic-realism (such as "Like Water for Chocolate", which I also enjoyed immensely). I tend to have an appetite for the macabre (I am, after all, a fan of certain kinds of horror and dark fantasy), so the chilling elements of "Perfume" did not ruin anything for me, in fact, quite the opposite. The book felt like a picture of the most exquisite garden framed using human bones. Or something along those lines.

Perfume, the celluloid version, premièred in Munich in September 2006. It was apparently the costliest German-made film to date. I was delighted to hear that it had been made into a film, as it had previously (apparently) been declared as "ulfilmable" by big names such as Kubrick, Scorsese and Scott.

I was absolutely gutted when I realised that I'd missed it in the local cinema, so Timo very kindly booked seats for us in London yesterday. We met up, had a stroll in town, ate Subway's sandwiches, went for a coffee and visited Selfridge's perfumery where I homed in on a number of new fragrance launches I was interested in trying out (and - a little bit embarrassingly, but it always happens, so I'm used to it - out-talked the perfume girl about the properties of the fragrance I was sampling).

We both enjoyed the film. Timo hasn't read the book, but when we came out and I asked him what he thought of the film, his reply was: "It was a little bit like being at home; with all those test tubes and bottles and things." He paused and added: "Without the murdering, of course. One hopes". He smiled.

I reassured him that my interest in perfumery was not about to include the scope of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille.

I remarked: "It's a fictional dilemma that would be out of place in today's perfumery. Jean-Baptiste could have done with some Headspace technology; then he could have captured all the scents he wanted without having to kill all those girls. It's a shame he needed to kill them. Would have been interesting if he could have preserved their scent otherwise."

Timo: "You said needed."

Me: "Well, yes..."

Obviously this was tongue-in-cheek, just in case you're wondering.

I was left with the impression that I perhaps enjoyed the film more than average due to the fact that I'd read the book and that I have such a strong personal interest in the creation of perfume. Timo seemed to like the film more due to its distinctly un-Hollywood-like message and ending, as well as perhaps due to knowing that I was enjoying myself. He called the film "Very European, in a good way."

EDITED LATER: Read what happened next... and after that!