Well, Fukuoka here I come. I guess my SF-writer credentials maybe came in handy this time, for one of my proposed papers — “Another Undiscovered Country: Understanding the Particularities of Reception and Adoption of the Science Fiction Genre in South Korea Through The Examination of 21st Century Korean SF Cinema” — got accepted for the 4th World Congress of Korean Studies (the site seems not to work in Firefox/Linux… I suspect you need Internet Explorer & Windows to load it, as I was able to get at it on my dual boot) which is happening late this September in Fukuoka, Japan. I need to get them an abstract a bit before midsummer, and the full paper this August. This might sound bizarre, but this is myfirst academic conference, and I have two worries:
- How the hell does anyone say anything of any relative complexity or nuance, that does a major topic justice, in ten pages? I mean, the paper title is half a page, right off the bat! But that’s the limit on papers: ten pages, double-spaced. Ah well, the font is 11-point. I guess I’ll manage.
- I’m not really, um, a Korean Studies specialist, and I’m thinking my guts will be on the walls by the end of the session. I’ve been eviscerated before in life, but never by people qualified to do so. I think there are going to be a few beta-test runs on my paper, let’s just say that.
Actually, I think I’m going to try to do take a lesson from Scott Eric Kaufman and submit a paper, but deliver a talk. Anyway, I’m grateful to James for posting about it at The Grant Narrative, so I could be possessed by a mad pique and find myself now waiting to be torn to bits by learned people.
That’s the good-but-scary news for today. The good-and-relaxing news is that the reason one of my molars has been feeling loose has nothing to do with cavities — there are none, say the X-Rays — and everything to do with how I grind my teeth at night. The dentist did a little adjusting, and said it probably wouldn’t solve the problem completely…that I’d need some kind of mouth guard in my mouth at night to totally stop grinding. I’m thinking less stress, and more exercise, might do just as well. We’ll see, I guess. So while that naughty tooth will probably persist in freaking out over cold or hot drinks, I’m safe from the horrors of root canal, for now.
And now, Lime says, it’s time for me to come home (with some sushi in tow) so she can stop waiting to watch the cliffhanger for Lost. So off I go…