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resignation
Oct. 8th, 2004 12:27 amWell, that's it settled. I'm going to have to move to Leeds.
It's been on the cards for a while now, but the official letters formally came round today (with read/receipt tags on the emails, too, so we can't claim not to have seen them). Our particular part of the NHS -- the NHS Information Agency -- is being merged with several other parts, which are then being reorganised, and the result of all this is that the part which I will now belong to is going to be based in Leeds, and you either go and work there or you get a nice friendly redundancy package.
And I like my current job.
So -- oh, well. Time to move out, time to "get a foot on the property ladder", it's not till March 05 anyhow, so there's plenty of time, there will probably be some relocation money to assist, Leeds and the towns near it are by all accounts interesting places and one can doubtless avoid the BNP if one chooses location wisely, there are going to be job openings directly above me because several of the team aren't prepared to move and are going for the redundancy/early retirement package (being in their late fifties), and I do like my current job. Time to whip up some enthusiasm and start inspecting property for rent or purchase. Being bitter about a temporary suspension of personal comfort and a violent dislike of change will not help.
(For reference, Leeds is in Yorkshire, in the North of England, and 4-5 hours by train from where I live now.)
No, the general mood at work today was not good, since we all got these letters. We'd known they were coming, but . . .
But I intend to forget about all this while on holiday shortly.
---
First of all, there is evidently a very general idea that the object of the detective novelist is to baffle the reader. Now, nothing is easier than baffling the reader, in the sense of disappointing the reader. There are many successful and widely advertised stories of which the principle simply consists in thwarting information by means of incident. The Bulgarian governess is just about to mention her real reason for concealing herself with a loaded rifle inside the grand piano, when a yellow Chinaman leaps through the window and cuts off her head with a yataghan; and this trivial interruption is allowed to defer the elucidation of the whole story. Now, it is quite a simple matter to fill several volumes with adventures of this thrilling kind, without permitting the reader to advance a step in the direction of discovery. This is illegitimate, on the fundamental principles of this form of fiction. It is not merely that it is not artistic, or that it is not logical. It is that it is not really exciting. People cannot be excited except about something; and at this stage of ignorance the reader has nothing to be excited about. People are thrilled by knowing something, and on this principle they know nothing. The true object of an intelligent detective story is not to baffle the reader, but to enlighten the reader; but to enlighten him in such a manner that each successive portion of the truth comes as a surprise. In this, as in much nobler types of mystery, the object of the true mystic is not merely to mystify, but to illuminate. The object is not darkness, but light; but light in the form of lightning.
Errors about Detective Stories, GK Chesterton
It's been on the cards for a while now, but the official letters formally came round today (with read/receipt tags on the emails, too, so we can't claim not to have seen them). Our particular part of the NHS -- the NHS Information Agency -- is being merged with several other parts, which are then being reorganised, and the result of all this is that the part which I will now belong to is going to be based in Leeds, and you either go and work there or you get a nice friendly redundancy package.
And I like my current job.
So -- oh, well. Time to move out, time to "get a foot on the property ladder", it's not till March 05 anyhow, so there's plenty of time, there will probably be some relocation money to assist, Leeds and the towns near it are by all accounts interesting places and one can doubtless avoid the BNP if one chooses location wisely, there are going to be job openings directly above me because several of the team aren't prepared to move and are going for the redundancy/early retirement package (being in their late fifties), and I do like my current job. Time to whip up some enthusiasm and start inspecting property for rent or purchase. Being bitter about a temporary suspension of personal comfort and a violent dislike of change will not help.
(For reference, Leeds is in Yorkshire, in the North of England, and 4-5 hours by train from where I live now.)
No, the general mood at work today was not good, since we all got these letters. We'd known they were coming, but . . .
But I intend to forget about all this while on holiday shortly.
---
First of all, there is evidently a very general idea that the object of the detective novelist is to baffle the reader. Now, nothing is easier than baffling the reader, in the sense of disappointing the reader. There are many successful and widely advertised stories of which the principle simply consists in thwarting information by means of incident. The Bulgarian governess is just about to mention her real reason for concealing herself with a loaded rifle inside the grand piano, when a yellow Chinaman leaps through the window and cuts off her head with a yataghan; and this trivial interruption is allowed to defer the elucidation of the whole story. Now, it is quite a simple matter to fill several volumes with adventures of this thrilling kind, without permitting the reader to advance a step in the direction of discovery. This is illegitimate, on the fundamental principles of this form of fiction. It is not merely that it is not artistic, or that it is not logical. It is that it is not really exciting. People cannot be excited except about something; and at this stage of ignorance the reader has nothing to be excited about. People are thrilled by knowing something, and on this principle they know nothing. The true object of an intelligent detective story is not to baffle the reader, but to enlighten the reader; but to enlighten him in such a manner that each successive portion of the truth comes as a surprise. In this, as in much nobler types of mystery, the object of the true mystic is not merely to mystify, but to illuminate. The object is not darkness, but light; but light in the form of lightning.
Errors about Detective Stories, GK Chesterton
