Category Archives: doctor who? – doctor carola

ever since people were people they have been guided by their imagination – stories are a huge part of our lives, have been and will always be – stories can be told in so many ways, literature is just one of them

it is my favourite pastime to look at the entangled stories of life and literature – to see how the things we read have influenced the world we live in – every book i devour has started to influence my imagination and my life has changed accordingly – i read and accumulate facts, ideas, motifs, themes, character traits, and other things i like into a new way of thinking – incidentally that is also what i do in my phd: albeit simply focusing on yorkshire and how literature has shaped people’s idea and image of yorkshire, it is just one example how i like to look at literature

and ever so often i come across something that makes me giddy and happy because i realize that other people see the world just as i do and know about the secret (or not as much) influence literature has on us – that makes me really glad for i am not alone

i feel like a pigeon with a very strong homing instinct trained on yorkshire – it has been over a year, since i last strolled down the streets of york, listening to the minster bells and over two years, since i spent that delightfully sunny day at whitby, when i fell in love with whitby and decided that i want to grow old there and be buried in the graveyard by the sea – i love the sea, wherever i go, but whitby really has that special feeling of safety and adventure about it, that draws me in and does not let me go

but i also feel like a day on the moors with only sheep and the wind to keep me company – or a walk up to top withens with all those wuthering heights and heathcliff emotions floating around me and inspiring me to start writing again, instead of sitting at my desk all day, lost for words and lost for inspiration because germany is just plain old boring and people are unfriendly, rude, and, simply put, not english!

it is obvious to anybody, that i was born in the wrong place, since people keep on asking me, if i am english all the time – and while i have strong feelings for my home as well – after all, i do love fairy tales (reading and writing them) and the brothers grimm were pretty much my neighbours from very long ago – and germany has some wonderful places and memories – but it is only ever in england that i feel truly like home, like i belong, and fit in perfectly – and it is always to yorkshire that i am pulled by invisible forces – perhaps my ancestors really did come from england – after all, i have to have gotten the red hair and the weird sense of humour from somewhere along the line

anyways, all this reminiscing  was just the introduction – i have handed in my application to give a presentation at a conference in leeds in january and i am terrribly excited about it and do so desperately hope that i get in – i want to talk and tell people about my work and research and my fascination with yorkshire – but i have decided, that even if i don’t get to talk, i’ll still go and this knowledge is like a little glowing spark right inside of me – it keeps me happy and warm and feeling like dancing along the streets – i don’t care, that it might be cold and dreary in january – i love yorkshire and just like david hockney i love seasons and how they change nature, so i’ll put up with the cold and rain and snow, if i get to spend time there – i am planning to stay 5 to 7 days and am really, very excited, preparations have already started: writing old friends, planning outings to whitby and the wildlife trust reserves with the volunteers, and hot chocolates at la place verte because that is, what happiness is all about

today, apparently, there will be great news all around – three little e-mails and each containing wonderful news – after waiting for more than six months, my new kitchen will finally be delivered next week and on thursday nonetheless, which will give me all tuesday afternoon and wednesday to clean out my fridge and cupboards, get them taken down and renovate – i have been waiting for such a long time and always anxious because not all days would be as perfect – also, i have given up all in-depth cleaning of the old kitchen and it started to gross me out

second good news is the promise of work – i applied a while ago and hadn’t heard anything, but now the editor got back from her summer vacation and immediatly send me an e-mail, letting me know that she’ll have some corrections ready for me in a couple of weeks and that she’ll forward my offer to all the otehr editors – yay!

and the third one was also somehow work-related – i offered to host a science show in november and i got the job, if the show happens – so now i’ll put even more effort into helping the show along

yes, life can be good, if you get yourself off of your couch (or in my case out of your bed) and do something – having been pretty down these past couple of months has left me exhausted – i’ll call it a depressive phase and move on – i cannot live my life in bed and neither would i – i’ll get back to adventures and fun – that’s more like it

oh, by the way, wrote about 2 pages worth of phd introduction today as well – and they seemed to fall out of my head and on to the page with no effort at all – i wish, everydasy would be as easy as that

and one last ps: anyone recognize the title of my post? it’s yorkshire- and literature related, of course

celebrating having handed in my second chapter today – now it’s on to writing about james herriot – the part i’ve been looking forward to for a long time

what a busy and successful day – i worked for two hours (money earning work) – then exercised for half an hour – showered – had lunch with a friend – i took a little nap after i got home, worked two more hours (the money earning kind) – i hand-washed my favourite dress – changed my sheets – made ginger sirup – wrote a couple of paragraphs for my phd – had a couple of interesting thoughts for my phd – counted some obscure words in some novels for my phd – spent some tender loving care on my bicycle – and now i am off to dinner and two more exciting football games – and i will most definitely fall asleep with a smile for the moon – that is, if she shows her face, otherwise i’ll have to make do with a dance in the ever present rain

i really don’t dig vampires, but this is pretty cool and i want it, oh i want it, oh i want it!

also cool – do the vampire knitting type test – i am “a careful, thoughtful knitter, like Edward Cullen or Angel.” – oh great … this just takes me back to:

why, though?


damn right!

i’ve finally handed in my first chapter and now i am ready for some fun – or rather a day of work, a library date and some rehearsal time – a girl’s got to do, what a girl’s got to do!

unsuspecting and rather expecting a pleasant day, i made my way to the library this morning – as it turns out, the day was to begin wonderfully and exciting and continue disastrously – does the name halliwell sutcliffe ring a bell? no? no matter – i had no idea who he was either, mistaking him for a critic or a long-dead brontë-freak, who published a few articles, maybe worth mentioning, possibly quoting, nothing more – i was in for a shock – that man has written more than 30 novels, short-stories and a bunch of poems, but his works aren’t really published anymore – still, at least twelve novels apparently deal with the idea of haworth and the moors as settings for romantic fiction and in 1915 the people in haworth called him “the great yorkshire author” – oh my, who was that guy – not even wikipedia could help and his books are scarce in the libraries, out of print in the stores and if you dare search a biography, also dear to be disappointed – nothing, nowhere to be found

my heart freakishly stopped and my soon-to-be finished first chapter vanished into a mist of meaningless nothings – i’d have to do it all over again: the reasearch, the thinking, the putting together, the writing – o dear horror! – no way, i am doing that – i’ll do my best to look into it and then leave him behind – sutcliffe, you can remain a mystery to me, for all i care – i should never mention you again, if not for that satisfactory sense of completeness, which follows a closed up and finished bit of work and which wouldn’t be there, if i omitted your puzzling existence and forgotten works

so, i refuse to be scared into a panic for the long run, continue onwards just as before and acknowledge a little room for you somewhere – otherwise, loud music, chocolate and a girl’s night in will be all that is needed to restore the perky, sassy me of this morning