So I'm in this really annoying limbo right now with two journals, both of whom gave me revise-and-resubmit verdicts, and both of whom have now been looking at my revisions for some time.
OK, in one case, it's been about a month. But it's been four and a half months in the other, so the second journal is suffering (in my mind) from the sins of the first--I simply can't deal with not hearing about EITHER ONE for ONE MORE DAY (something that I've been saying to myself for weeks and weeks now, of course).
Anyway. No substance, no plot, no resolution. I'm just getting impatient. (And I did contact the 4.5-month journal a few weeks ago. The editor sent my email along to another editor. And I wait.)
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Friday, June 10, 2016
On my writing goal for the year
In updating (after a long break, as you can see) my Writing Goal 2016! box in the margin over there, I noticed a month-old comment from Flavia asking where I came up with my goal. (I'm trying not to apologize anymore for being such a terrible blogger, but wow, I'm a terrible blogger.)
Flavia asked how I decided on 80 days at 500 words/day or 40,000 words for the year. Those words are all on my book manuscript, by the way, so the gaps don't mean that I haven't been writing--just that I've been writing and working on other things (such the Article That Will Not Go Away And Stay Away, By Which I Mean Get Published).
The answer is not particularly scientific. As of January 1, I had written, I think, about 50,000 words of this manuscript. Many of them are the wrong words, but they are, at least, words.
In my wildest dreams (yes, I'm that crazy!!), I will finish this MS in 2016.
A good length for a monograph is 90,000 words. Hence: 40,000 to go.
As for the 80 days/500 a day? Well, 500 a day seems like a reasonable clip (on average), and not too intimidating. At that rate, it'll be 80 days of writing. Out of 366 (it's a leap year!), 80 is not very many at all--hardly 1 in 5 days. So when you put it that way, I have no excuse for not finishing the book this year--except for all that pesky, you know, reading and research and thinking and stuff that also has to go into it. Also revising. I have had days when I've worked and written a lot and only added 12 words to the word count (or even had it go down)--don't we all?
So that's that. I'm afraid that the answer isn't terribly exciting.
But maybe this is more interesting?: Breaking the book down into words and days is part of an overall project of re-framing how I see academic writing, and just making it into part of my daily work. This past semester, I think that I managed to write--not just read, but write, even if it was only to revise a sentence or two--on all but two work days, from January through early May. I've never even come close to doing that before. And I did it by making the writing work much more concrete: creating endless lists of very specific tasks, keeping track of the time that I spend working, using an accountability check-in website (as well as my own chart and even, to a much lesser extent, this blog), talking to other people about my work. I think that I'm succeeding in making it a thing that I do, rather than a big scary amorphous hovering threat.
Of course, this is the first day that I've managed to do any writing since before Kalamazoo. I was on a week-long research trip, then two weeks of vacation (of sorts) with my husband and son, and we got back late on Wednesday night. So today is my 40th birthday, and one of the things that I asked for was a couple of hours to work...and I got it, and I did! (See sidebox.) Now I think that I'll read something academic and wait for the guys to come home bearing lunch.
Flavia asked how I decided on 80 days at 500 words/day or 40,000 words for the year. Those words are all on my book manuscript, by the way, so the gaps don't mean that I haven't been writing--just that I've been writing and working on other things (such the Article That Will Not Go Away And Stay Away, By Which I Mean Get Published).
The answer is not particularly scientific. As of January 1, I had written, I think, about 50,000 words of this manuscript. Many of them are the wrong words, but they are, at least, words.
In my wildest dreams (yes, I'm that crazy!!), I will finish this MS in 2016.
A good length for a monograph is 90,000 words. Hence: 40,000 to go.
As for the 80 days/500 a day? Well, 500 a day seems like a reasonable clip (on average), and not too intimidating. At that rate, it'll be 80 days of writing. Out of 366 (it's a leap year!), 80 is not very many at all--hardly 1 in 5 days. So when you put it that way, I have no excuse for not finishing the book this year--except for all that pesky, you know, reading and research and thinking and stuff that also has to go into it. Also revising. I have had days when I've worked and written a lot and only added 12 words to the word count (or even had it go down)--don't we all?
So that's that. I'm afraid that the answer isn't terribly exciting.
But maybe this is more interesting?: Breaking the book down into words and days is part of an overall project of re-framing how I see academic writing, and just making it into part of my daily work. This past semester, I think that I managed to write--not just read, but write, even if it was only to revise a sentence or two--on all but two work days, from January through early May. I've never even come close to doing that before. And I did it by making the writing work much more concrete: creating endless lists of very specific tasks, keeping track of the time that I spend working, using an accountability check-in website (as well as my own chart and even, to a much lesser extent, this blog), talking to other people about my work. I think that I'm succeeding in making it a thing that I do, rather than a big scary amorphous hovering threat.
Of course, this is the first day that I've managed to do any writing since before Kalamazoo. I was on a week-long research trip, then two weeks of vacation (of sorts) with my husband and son, and we got back late on Wednesday night. So today is my 40th birthday, and one of the things that I asked for was a couple of hours to work...and I got it, and I did! (See sidebox.) Now I think that I'll read something academic and wait for the guys to come home bearing lunch.
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Your Writing Brain is a Three-Year-Old Child
As I mentioned recently, I'm part of a mutual mentoring team with a grant, and the main thing that we're spending money on is a writing coach. We all have second books that we'd like to see through to completion, but, like everyone, we're afraid of getting sucked into the vortex of service, teaching, family obligations, and simple procrastination.
We've met with our coach twice, and she's already changed my thinking about writing in profound ways.
What I've found so stunningly helpful, despite (or because of) its simplicity, is the need to break things down into manageable, visible tasks.
Obviously, a lot of writing work is unmanageable and invisible--at least, as tasks. Coming up with an interesting argument. Providing sophisticated analysis. Thinking original thoughts. Etc.
But, when planning your writing time, you can't have on your to-do list, "Come up with an interesting argument about X." (I know; I've tried.) Instead, you need to think about what you do to get there.
Painfully obvious, maybe. Yet to me, spelling this out was somehow revolutionary.
Now, a part of me (a small part, because I do love me some lists) rebels against this way of thinking. "Writing isn't just performing a series of discrete tasks!" I complain. "I need freedom! I need to think!"
Sure, of course. But here's an example.
I just got an R&R on an Article That Will Not Go Away. One of the things that I need to do is think through some tricky conceptual stuff in the introduction. So, as my writing task for Monday, I had, "Think about conceptual problems."
"Hm..." said the writing coach. "How will you do that?"
"I don't know."--the honest answer. "Maybe I should read some things first? Or make the easy corrections?"
"Could you do some generative freewriting on one of the problems for 15 minutes?" she asked.
Just like that: it became a task that I was likely to do, instead of one that would wind up on the semester-long to-do list and gradually get kicked over to next year's day planner! And freewriting works well for me. Doing it is likely to help me think more clearly about the essay as a whole.
Last night, it occurred to me that this is exactly like what we do when we're doing our best at dealing with Bonaventure: we provide clear, recognizable parameters.
At dinner, for example, if we say, "Eat some more of your green beans," he needs to know exactly how many bites or else it turns into an endless back-and-forth ("I did eat more!" "No, more than that." "But I did!"). If he's watching a show, we're able to get him to stop watching if we tell him in advance how much longer he can watch. If we don't, there's chaos. If we do, compliance.
I really think that my own brain is exactly like this. I need to know what the limits are, what the next activity is, and when I'll know that I've done enough in order to stay happy and compliant. When I don't, I get anxious, unsettled, stalled--in short, writing becomes impossible.
So, in sum, when you're planning your next writing project, remember that you're actually three years old. It really helps.
We've met with our coach twice, and she's already changed my thinking about writing in profound ways.
What I've found so stunningly helpful, despite (or because of) its simplicity, is the need to break things down into manageable, visible tasks.
Obviously, a lot of writing work is unmanageable and invisible--at least, as tasks. Coming up with an interesting argument. Providing sophisticated analysis. Thinking original thoughts. Etc.
But, when planning your writing time, you can't have on your to-do list, "Come up with an interesting argument about X." (I know; I've tried.) Instead, you need to think about what you do to get there.
Painfully obvious, maybe. Yet to me, spelling this out was somehow revolutionary.
Now, a part of me (a small part, because I do love me some lists) rebels against this way of thinking. "Writing isn't just performing a series of discrete tasks!" I complain. "I need freedom! I need to think!"
Sure, of course. But here's an example.
I just got an R&R on an Article That Will Not Go Away. One of the things that I need to do is think through some tricky conceptual stuff in the introduction. So, as my writing task for Monday, I had, "Think about conceptual problems."
"Hm..." said the writing coach. "How will you do that?"
"I don't know."--the honest answer. "Maybe I should read some things first? Or make the easy corrections?"
"Could you do some generative freewriting on one of the problems for 15 minutes?" she asked.
Just like that: it became a task that I was likely to do, instead of one that would wind up on the semester-long to-do list and gradually get kicked over to next year's day planner! And freewriting works well for me. Doing it is likely to help me think more clearly about the essay as a whole.
Last night, it occurred to me that this is exactly like what we do when we're doing our best at dealing with Bonaventure: we provide clear, recognizable parameters.
At dinner, for example, if we say, "Eat some more of your green beans," he needs to know exactly how many bites or else it turns into an endless back-and-forth ("I did eat more!" "No, more than that." "But I did!"). If he's watching a show, we're able to get him to stop watching if we tell him in advance how much longer he can watch. If we don't, there's chaos. If we do, compliance.
I really think that my own brain is exactly like this. I need to know what the limits are, what the next activity is, and when I'll know that I've done enough in order to stay happy and compliant. When I don't, I get anxious, unsettled, stalled--in short, writing becomes impossible.
So, in sum, when you're planning your next writing project, remember that you're actually three years old. It really helps.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
Retreat!
I have a new addiction:
WRITING RETREATS.
Do you see the sidebar over there? The one called "Writing Goal 2016!"? And do you see the two days in which I clocked more than 2000 words apiece? Those were WRITING RETREAT days.
The first--a three-hour deal with three friends, up on the special faculty floor of the library. I had just come up with a whole new framework for my book (one that I'm still excited about, by the way--and at 10 days later, that's probably a record), and in those three hours I drafted a brand new introduction to the beast.
The second--today--an all-day retreat at a Remote Location with about 8-10 folks, two of whom I already knew. Nothing very formal (we brought our lunches and other necessary gear). Somehow, sitting around a table with a bunch of other people--in silence--bending to our tasks--well, it helped me move forward. A lot.
There's no way that I could keep up this pace, even if the semester weren't about to start. For one (very important) thing, I need to do some reading and research in order to have more to write. But I feel great about the start of the year, writing-wise, and I've finally worked through some sticky places in my current chapter.
A tiny, secret part of me thinks that I might, just maybe, be able to finish a complete draft of the book MS in 2016. But don't tell anybody. Resolutions always start to wane in February....
WRITING RETREATS.
Do you see the sidebar over there? The one called "Writing Goal 2016!"? And do you see the two days in which I clocked more than 2000 words apiece? Those were WRITING RETREAT days.
The first--a three-hour deal with three friends, up on the special faculty floor of the library. I had just come up with a whole new framework for my book (one that I'm still excited about, by the way--and at 10 days later, that's probably a record), and in those three hours I drafted a brand new introduction to the beast.
The second--today--an all-day retreat at a Remote Location with about 8-10 folks, two of whom I already knew. Nothing very formal (we brought our lunches and other necessary gear). Somehow, sitting around a table with a bunch of other people--in silence--bending to our tasks--well, it helped me move forward. A lot.
There's no way that I could keep up this pace, even if the semester weren't about to start. For one (very important) thing, I need to do some reading and research in order to have more to write. But I feel great about the start of the year, writing-wise, and I've finally worked through some sticky places in my current chapter.
A tiny, secret part of me thinks that I might, just maybe, be able to finish a complete draft of the book MS in 2016. But don't tell anybody. Resolutions always start to wane in February....
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
What's New: Nothing Much
Yeah. So. Today:
- I had an unprecedented six students come to my office hours. Of those, three wanted to talk about their midterm exams and how they could do better on the final. Oddly, never in eight years at Field College did one of my students come to see me about a past exam...although now that I think about it, I typically only gave final exams, not midterms. That would explain it. Never mind. Anyway, I'm glad to have students--especially those who aren't doing terribly well--stop by for help! But wow, that was a tiring two hours.
- Excitingly, two of the students who came by are thinking about majoring or minoring in Comp Lit. And I signed up two new majors last week. Recruiting, yes! (Most students--undergraduate me included--don't really know what Comp Lit is when they get to college. So our major is smaller than it ought to be.)
- Best news of all: I got my hair cut today, for the first time since July. Amazing how good that feels.
- To finish an article for an edited collection (done--this was pretty quick)
- To revise an article that has been boomeranging around for years now (done, sent to writing group; writing group comments received; now I need to read some more stuff and revise AGAIN before I resubmit it. In my loveliest of dreams, that will happen this semester)
- To submit an abstract for Kalamazoo (done; accepted)
- To submit another conference abstract (due next month; not drafted)
- To revise a chapter of my book draft (not started; this is my lowest writing priority at this point)
- To write another chapter (what on earth was I thinking? I'm working on one, but I'm about 3500 words in, and I have research to do to write this thing, and probably a research trip, so clearly this won't be written this semester. I am working on it, though, so that's something).
I do need to work on realistic writing goals.
So yeah, that's that. I don't want the semester to end too soon because then I won't be able to believe in the possibility of accomplishing All The Things before December 15 or whenever. And yet, accomplishing the Things will be easier once classes are over. So it goes.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Here We Are: Another Morning
It's 8:18 am; the magnolia is in full bloom outside the living room windows. A cloudy morning. TM and Bonaventure left a few minutes ago.
B has a terrible new habit of coming into our room at 5:15 or 5:30 and getting into bed with us. Today he did manage to fall back asleep, but he did so sort of draped over me and/or shoving me off to the very edge of the bed, so I didn't sleep much, or deeply, after that. It's hard when you've got a leg wrapped around your neck, or an elbow in your ribs. (TM kindly took over breakfast prep when we finally got up, at a quarter of seven, so I got another half-hour or so of sleep.)
Milk is cooling for yoghurt on the stovetop. The dishwasher is running. I may or may not have to wash the diapers today.
I have three hours and forty minutes, roughly, until Bonaventure comes home. I should have a little time to work this afternoon--Tuesdays and Thursdays are "my" afternoons, while TM watches him--but I can't always count on that.
On the docket: Work on blending my talk back into my chapter (this kind of work is always so confusing, and such a chore. I have to retrace all my revisions and figure out if each of them works in the long version); go for a run; shower; practice the cello. Read an essay or, better, two.
All is not lost. All is not lost. There are weeks yet, and then the summer!
And in the meantime, this is my view (actually taken in April 2011, during our first spring in this house):
B has a terrible new habit of coming into our room at 5:15 or 5:30 and getting into bed with us. Today he did manage to fall back asleep, but he did so sort of draped over me and/or shoving me off to the very edge of the bed, so I didn't sleep much, or deeply, after that. It's hard when you've got a leg wrapped around your neck, or an elbow in your ribs. (TM kindly took over breakfast prep when we finally got up, at a quarter of seven, so I got another half-hour or so of sleep.)
Milk is cooling for yoghurt on the stovetop. The dishwasher is running. I may or may not have to wash the diapers today.
I have three hours and forty minutes, roughly, until Bonaventure comes home. I should have a little time to work this afternoon--Tuesdays and Thursdays are "my" afternoons, while TM watches him--but I can't always count on that.
On the docket: Work on blending my talk back into my chapter (this kind of work is always so confusing, and such a chore. I have to retrace all my revisions and figure out if each of them works in the long version); go for a run; shower; practice the cello. Read an essay or, better, two.
All is not lost. All is not lost. There are weeks yet, and then the summer!
And in the meantime, this is my view (actually taken in April 2011, during our first spring in this house):
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Condensing
I'm in the process of trying to take about 75 pages of written material and condense it down to roughly 20. (Twenty-two, if I'm really bold.)
And, of course, I find that there are things that I'll need to add.
I'm at about 30. The first 15 are okay, but the second 15 are a total mess--a 38-page-chapter that I've just hacked at until it's shorter, eliminating all of the obvious stuff. It's a disaster. I think that I need to print it again. (Or is that stalling? Doesn't matter; I'll do it. Double-sided. Sorry, trees.)
So condensing sort of sucks, because it's so hard to know what's really important, sometimes. And then, you take a bunch of stuff away, and what's left seems more or less fine on its own...so what was with the many many pages of apparently superfluous writing that's now gone? Should I get rid of it in all versions and drafts? (Answer, for now: NO. I can't face it. And I'm not convinced that my cuts are ultimately for the good. Also, surely there was a reason that I wrote all that other stuff?)
But it's a salutary exercise, too, one that I would consider adopting for the junior-level composition class. I'm forced to figure out what it is that I'm actually saying. On the macro level, this means that I'm cutting to the chase much more quickly (and also, of course, eliminating side arguments and some of the texture of the main argument--which is one reason that I'm not jettisoning anything that I'm cutting for this version). On the micro level, I'm streamlining my prose. How many "sort of"s and "it would seem that"s can I pack into 12,00 words? TOO MANY, that's how.
Back to it. I've got 10 pages to chop. (Twelve, really, because there are still a few paragraphs to be written....)
And, of course, I find that there are things that I'll need to add.
I'm at about 30. The first 15 are okay, but the second 15 are a total mess--a 38-page-chapter that I've just hacked at until it's shorter, eliminating all of the obvious stuff. It's a disaster. I think that I need to print it again. (Or is that stalling? Doesn't matter; I'll do it. Double-sided. Sorry, trees.)
So condensing sort of sucks, because it's so hard to know what's really important, sometimes. And then, you take a bunch of stuff away, and what's left seems more or less fine on its own...so what was with the many many pages of apparently superfluous writing that's now gone? Should I get rid of it in all versions and drafts? (Answer, for now: NO. I can't face it. And I'm not convinced that my cuts are ultimately for the good. Also, surely there was a reason that I wrote all that other stuff?)
But it's a salutary exercise, too, one that I would consider adopting for the junior-level composition class. I'm forced to figure out what it is that I'm actually saying. On the macro level, this means that I'm cutting to the chase much more quickly (and also, of course, eliminating side arguments and some of the texture of the main argument--which is one reason that I'm not jettisoning anything that I'm cutting for this version). On the micro level, I'm streamlining my prose. How many "sort of"s and "it would seem that"s can I pack into 12,00 words? TOO MANY, that's how.
Back to it. I've got 10 pages to chop. (Twelve, really, because there are still a few paragraphs to be written....)
Friday, February 24, 2012
Well, that's...terrifying
Lo these many months ago (August?), I submitted a solicited abstract for a proposed edited collection. I then sort of 65% forgot about it. I mean, it would cross my mind occasionally, but it was pretty far off the radar most of the time.
Well, I just found out that the collection has been accepted for publication. Good news! It has a final deadline about 6-7 months out. Um...okay! (This is the final deadline, you know, so it's not the date by which I need to submit a draft. That will be much sooner.)
So what did I say that I would write about again?
You know that kind of mid-way freak-out/happy feeling? Because this is good news, and will spur me to actually do something scholarship-wise (I've been tragically since summer, except for the colloquium talk and the MLA paper and some book reviews), but it's also a little alarming to have, you know, a deadline again, especially on a project that I only 35% remembered and haven't started writing yet. Oh, and I have a book review to write by late April. And right, the annual bibliographic essay. And nine thesis committees that'll be wrapping up in--hey, April! And those three classes that I'm teaching, two of which are writing intensive.
Oh! And right! Having a baby in June!
So there's that. A little more pile-on of the stress. It's okay; I'll manage. I'll whine, but I'll manage. (And I'll be on maternity leave all fall, so there's a light at the end of the work-tunnel, even if those 4 months will only be spent breastfeeding and doing laundry.)
And then I clicked on the "show details" of the "to" list from the email announcing the acceptance of the book proposal. I'll level with you here: I thought that, given that the editors were soliciting an abstract from me, this would likely be a middling collection. (Yes, Impostor Syndrome lingers, despite the publication of a monograph and recent promotion to associate [which comes a year before tenure at Field, so I'm not through every hoop just yet].)
But--well--there are some pretty damn impressive names in that list. Some that I don't know, of course, but some that everybody knows.
So.
There's that.
Terrifying.
Well, I just found out that the collection has been accepted for publication. Good news! It has a final deadline about 6-7 months out. Um...okay! (This is the final deadline, you know, so it's not the date by which I need to submit a draft. That will be much sooner.)
So what did I say that I would write about again?
You know that kind of mid-way freak-out/happy feeling? Because this is good news, and will spur me to actually do something scholarship-wise (I've been tragically since summer, except for the colloquium talk and the MLA paper and some book reviews), but it's also a little alarming to have, you know, a deadline again, especially on a project that I only 35% remembered and haven't started writing yet. Oh, and I have a book review to write by late April. And right, the annual bibliographic essay. And nine thesis committees that'll be wrapping up in--hey, April! And those three classes that I'm teaching, two of which are writing intensive.
Oh! And right! Having a baby in June!
So there's that. A little more pile-on of the stress. It's okay; I'll manage. I'll whine, but I'll manage. (And I'll be on maternity leave all fall, so there's a light at the end of the work-tunnel, even if those 4 months will only be spent breastfeeding and doing laundry.)
And then I clicked on the "show details" of the "to" list from the email announcing the acceptance of the book proposal. I'll level with you here: I thought that, given that the editors were soliciting an abstract from me, this would likely be a middling collection. (Yes, Impostor Syndrome lingers, despite the publication of a monograph and recent promotion to associate [which comes a year before tenure at Field, so I'm not through every hoop just yet].)
But--well--there are some pretty damn impressive names in that list. Some that I don't know, of course, but some that everybody knows.
So.
There's that.
Terrifying.
Monday, August 1, 2011
[Sigh] revision.
Long gap in blogging here due to a semi-chaotic family visit and a very sick kitty. Family left on Saturday. Kitty is still sick, but somewhat better (down from a very high fever into sneezing and snuffles). There really is nothing more pathetic than a sick cat.
So anyway, with all that settling down, I got back into my article this weekend. A few weeks ago, I read it over in hard copy (my preferred late-stage revision mode), made a few edits, and thought that it was just about ready to go. This weekend, I reread it, and did this:
Might I just say, Augh!!
Now pardon me, please, while I go type those notes up before I lose the ability to read them.
So anyway, with all that settling down, I got back into my article this weekend. A few weeks ago, I read it over in hard copy (my preferred late-stage revision mode), made a few edits, and thought that it was just about ready to go. This weekend, I reread it, and did this:
Might I just say, Augh!!
Now pardon me, please, while I go type those notes up before I lose the ability to read them.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Two Firsts
1) Got my first agent query rejection yesterday morning. The first of many, many such, I'm sure.
2) Also in my inbox yesterday morning was an invitation to contribute an essay to an edited collection. The book isn't under contract yet--they need the article abstracts for that, obviously--but there is an "interested press," as they say. Anyway, what's cool is that this essay collection is exactly in line with my current research interests! How did that happen? I mean, since no one officially knows what my current research interests are, given that I haven't published anything on them yet? (One article is coming out in the Fall, but it's not out yet, so....)
Anyway, it's all very exciting. It makes me feel like a Real Scholar of some kind. (And maybe I should, like, get over feeling like an Unreal Scholar, since I do have a book out and all that. But, you know, eh. I still feel like I'm about 23 years old when it comes to this profession.)
2) Also in my inbox yesterday morning was an invitation to contribute an essay to an edited collection. The book isn't under contract yet--they need the article abstracts for that, obviously--but there is an "interested press," as they say. Anyway, what's cool is that this essay collection is exactly in line with my current research interests! How did that happen? I mean, since no one officially knows what my current research interests are, given that I haven't published anything on them yet? (One article is coming out in the Fall, but it's not out yet, so....)
Anyway, it's all very exciting. It makes me feel like a Real Scholar of some kind. (And maybe I should, like, get over feeling like an Unreal Scholar, since I do have a book out and all that. But, you know, eh. I still feel like I'm about 23 years old when it comes to this profession.)
Friday, July 8, 2011
Favorite Writing Resources?
I was just glancing over the comments on Notorious Ph.D.'s/ADM's writing group (which I totally plan to join this fall, by the way--I just missed the first couple of weeks this summer and got out of sync), and something completely obvious occurred to me:
Writing an extensive, independent research paper without strong external direction/guidelines does not come naturally to (almost) anyone. (I expect that there are exceptions. Incredibly enviable exceptions. But we aren't going to talk about them.)
Now, I knew this from my own experience, of course. But I also serve as second reader on all those pesky Honors thesis committees (by which I mean, ALL of the pesky--and even the rare non-pesky--Honors thesis committees at Field College), and undergraduate students, quite understandably, haven't really figured this out. They've never had to write such a paper. They're used to deadlines and people making them do things, and then doing said things often in haste, at the last minute, and under tremendous stress.
As we all know, that system doesn't work well for...well, almost anything, but you can probably pull it off on a 5-page paper. Not, however, on a thesis.
So what I'd like to do is to compile a list of resources, websites, and tips for students who are struggling with motivation, scheduling, organizing, drafting, etc. etc. And what better place to go than to the blogosphere? Since so many of you have blogged so beautifully and brilliantly about such things in the past?
I ask, therefore, that you comment with your favorite resources, motivators, organizers, what-have-you. Feel free to just remind me of a post that you've already written on the subject, too. I do plan to look around and do some of the work myself, but I'm very likely to miss some things--so I would love love LOVE your suggestions! And my students would love them even more!
(And let's not forget the thesis advisors and readers out there, who are surely as frustrated as I am when students don't even start writing until December.... Think of this as service! Tenure file, here we come!!)
Writing an extensive, independent research paper without strong external direction/guidelines does not come naturally to (almost) anyone. (I expect that there are exceptions. Incredibly enviable exceptions. But we aren't going to talk about them.)
Now, I knew this from my own experience, of course. But I also serve as second reader on all those pesky Honors thesis committees (by which I mean, ALL of the pesky--and even the rare non-pesky--Honors thesis committees at Field College), and undergraduate students, quite understandably, haven't really figured this out. They've never had to write such a paper. They're used to deadlines and people making them do things, and then doing said things often in haste, at the last minute, and under tremendous stress.
As we all know, that system doesn't work well for...well, almost anything, but you can probably pull it off on a 5-page paper. Not, however, on a thesis.
So what I'd like to do is to compile a list of resources, websites, and tips for students who are struggling with motivation, scheduling, organizing, drafting, etc. etc. And what better place to go than to the blogosphere? Since so many of you have blogged so beautifully and brilliantly about such things in the past?
I ask, therefore, that you comment with your favorite resources, motivators, organizers, what-have-you. Feel free to just remind me of a post that you've already written on the subject, too. I do plan to look around and do some of the work myself, but I'm very likely to miss some things--so I would love love LOVE your suggestions! And my students would love them even more!
(And let's not forget the thesis advisors and readers out there, who are surely as frustrated as I am when students don't even start writing until December.... Think of this as service! Tenure file, here we come!!)
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
What will I do today?
In addition to yardwork, I have a very long list of things to do this summer. One of the blessings of academia is the summertime. The curse, however, is that we (I?) plan to do everything that occurs to me all year long during the summer, which can make for its own breed of stress.
Research and writing:
Research and writing:
- I want to finish and send out this article on G. I've drafted it, but it needs some contextual underpinnings. I'd like to send it out by August 1.
- Review this 800-page book I volunteered to review. 800 pages!!!
- Get about 90% of the annual bibliographic essay done. I think that I'm at about 60% right now.
- Draft a presentation for a colloquium in the fall; this should be pretty easy.
- Think in some kind of serious way about that sort of book-like project that I'm kind of sort of planning. What's the first step, though?
- Get my syllabi in order. I only have one new class this fall! I don't think that I've ever had fewer than two new preps before--unless you count that anomalous semester when I only taught two classes.
- Read the one book that I'm teaching and haven't read before (I read the others earlier this summer).
- Get course packs together.
- Revise and reprint the Honors program handbook.
- Clean up some files.
- Finish knitting my shawl--I'm almost done!
- Knit an afghan.
- Finish a pair of socks (and probably start another one).
- Make paper and bind it into journals for Christmas presents.
- Sew three new curtains for the kitchen (I did one over spring break, and it looks so lonely in there!).
- Organize some files and whatnot.
- Um...the house is in pretty good shape, actually.
- I have a novel that I would like to try to get published, for real.
- I have a few short stories for which I'd like to do the same.
I don't actually want to be a creative writer; it's too weird and exhausting. The truth is that I really like working with people (who knew?); I also find that being absorbed into a story of my own creation, while exhilarating, is also really draining and disorienting. So I don't include this category of projects because I want to move out of academia--I don't. What I would like to do is to try to move some of my better stuff out into the world, so I don't have it hanging distantly in the background of my mind forever. I love me some closure, I do. And if it doesn't get published, at least I'll have tried.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Dare I say it? : I'm writing!
For the last two years, it seems like, I've had this research idea bobbling around in my head. I've written an article that's tangentially related to it--actually, the research idea came out of the early stages of the article--and, in September, I gave a conference paper that was intended to push me towards articulating SOMEthing of what I've been thinking about. (Basically, it's the use of a type of image in a type of medieval text; one of the problems has been that I've defined this image so broadly that, at times, I wondered whether I wasn't just making the whole thing up.)
I've also been reading, for the last two years, all sorts of books and articles that might be relevant. Some have been extremely helpful; some have just sent me back into doubt about the existence, relevance, and/or interest of these images.
I've tried, on several occasions, to write up a sort of prospectus or abstract of the "book project" that I claim will come out of this interest. I've even submitted an application for a course release that borrows from these various prospecti.
But the trouble is that I've been spinning. This happens when I just think and don't write: the idea doesn't go anywhere, maybe because I feel like I need to make sure that I don't forget it. Thus: more doubt, more torpor, more pointless thinking and, eventually, exhaustion. Before I'd even got started.
This week is Spring Break, however, and I had decided to start Writing An Article this week. It wasn't looking good over the weekend; in fact, I've spent much of the week getting ridiculously ahead in my courses (I've prepped through next week and read through the week after that, and I also sewed a curtain--which has nothing to do with my courses, but was an accomplishment, nonetheless). But I did sit down on Monday and start sketching in a bit.
I think that I've worked between 30-60 minutes every day this week (meaning Monday-Thursday). Some of that was patching in bits of a conference paper and two different abstracts; I've also copied and pasted notes on articles, revised sections of all of this material, written notes to myself, and pointed out half a dozen places in which I need to elaborate.
And I've got something like 6000 words (22 pages). What the hell? I've hardly even said anything yet. Yet if I were to actually elaborate on all of the "elaborate" notes, I'd have something like 60 pages of an unholy mess of stuff. Could it be that there's something there? As I write (mostly in a stream of consciousness, pre-writing sort of way; and I should perhaps note that I'm a very fast drafter), I'm having new ideas; things are coming together. I think that I've even managed to figure out why this one text counts as a text that uses the image I'm interested in, even though it actually doesn't. Hey! I think that I have a point.
Granted this draft--as you could doubtless gather from the preceding paragraph--sucks mightily, and is truly a disaster of composition. But it's a start, and I really, really needed a start. I like revising--I'm good at it--it's the drafting that's hard. Once the draft is there, I'll have something to work with, and I'll know, more or less, what I need to do.
Hooray!
(Of course, the odds of my getting anything of substance done on this project between March 21 and May whenever-graduation-is-this-year are very, very slim. But at least the summer will start off with a little less random flailing than usual, I hope!)
I've also been reading, for the last two years, all sorts of books and articles that might be relevant. Some have been extremely helpful; some have just sent me back into doubt about the existence, relevance, and/or interest of these images.
I've tried, on several occasions, to write up a sort of prospectus or abstract of the "book project" that I claim will come out of this interest. I've even submitted an application for a course release that borrows from these various prospecti.
But the trouble is that I've been spinning. This happens when I just think and don't write: the idea doesn't go anywhere, maybe because I feel like I need to make sure that I don't forget it. Thus: more doubt, more torpor, more pointless thinking and, eventually, exhaustion. Before I'd even got started.
This week is Spring Break, however, and I had decided to start Writing An Article this week. It wasn't looking good over the weekend; in fact, I've spent much of the week getting ridiculously ahead in my courses (I've prepped through next week and read through the week after that, and I also sewed a curtain--which has nothing to do with my courses, but was an accomplishment, nonetheless). But I did sit down on Monday and start sketching in a bit.
I think that I've worked between 30-60 minutes every day this week (meaning Monday-Thursday). Some of that was patching in bits of a conference paper and two different abstracts; I've also copied and pasted notes on articles, revised sections of all of this material, written notes to myself, and pointed out half a dozen places in which I need to elaborate.
And I've got something like 6000 words (22 pages). What the hell? I've hardly even said anything yet. Yet if I were to actually elaborate on all of the "elaborate" notes, I'd have something like 60 pages of an unholy mess of stuff. Could it be that there's something there? As I write (mostly in a stream of consciousness, pre-writing sort of way; and I should perhaps note that I'm a very fast drafter), I'm having new ideas; things are coming together. I think that I've even managed to figure out why this one text counts as a text that uses the image I'm interested in, even though it actually doesn't. Hey! I think that I have a point.
Granted this draft--as you could doubtless gather from the preceding paragraph--sucks mightily, and is truly a disaster of composition. But it's a start, and I really, really needed a start. I like revising--I'm good at it--it's the drafting that's hard. Once the draft is there, I'll have something to work with, and I'll know, more or less, what I need to do.
Hooray!
(Of course, the odds of my getting anything of substance done on this project between March 21 and May whenever-graduation-is-this-year are very, very slim. But at least the summer will start off with a little less random flailing than usual, I hope!)
Monday, April 19, 2010
Do Thi Werk
So says The Cloud of Unknowing, and it's good damn advice, even if it's advice that I can't seem to follow these days.
(I can see the end of the semester. You know that feeling? When it's hovering there? And you can't begin to do all the things that need to happen between now and then? Because you're so focused on the hazy heat of summer? Oh yes.)
I spent this weekend avoiding working on a short little article that I'm trying to send out by the end of the month. A low-stakes kind of thing that I was invited to write up and submit (and really, the journal must have been groping at the bottom of the pile to find me, for all I have in print right now is one article and three book reviews, all of which are published in the same small-circulation journal). Being a junior-type person trying to build a publishing record, I of course said Yes.
I then wrote rapidly for a couple of days and produced almost a complete draft--which I then didn't look at for two weeks.
That, my friends, is a recipe for procrastination: Write fast, don't edit, leave it alone for two weeks.
Because I know that it's bad, but I've kind of forgotten what it says, and I don't want to look at it.
So I spent the weekend stewing and unproductive, equally avoiding all other borderline unpleasant tasks (i.e. grading).
This morning, I opened the file and revised the first couple of pages. It's not great. But it's okay. It'll get fixed (as everything always does).
And now it's like something's jarred free and I can actually work again. Hooray! Why didn't I do this on Saturday, exactly?
(I can see the end of the semester. You know that feeling? When it's hovering there? And you can't begin to do all the things that need to happen between now and then? Because you're so focused on the hazy heat of summer? Oh yes.)
I spent this weekend avoiding working on a short little article that I'm trying to send out by the end of the month. A low-stakes kind of thing that I was invited to write up and submit (and really, the journal must have been groping at the bottom of the pile to find me, for all I have in print right now is one article and three book reviews, all of which are published in the same small-circulation journal). Being a junior-type person trying to build a publishing record, I of course said Yes.
I then wrote rapidly for a couple of days and produced almost a complete draft--which I then didn't look at for two weeks.
That, my friends, is a recipe for procrastination: Write fast, don't edit, leave it alone for two weeks.
Because I know that it's bad, but I've kind of forgotten what it says, and I don't want to look at it.
So I spent the weekend stewing and unproductive, equally avoiding all other borderline unpleasant tasks (i.e. grading).
This morning, I opened the file and revised the first couple of pages. It's not great. But it's okay. It'll get fixed (as everything always does).
And now it's like something's jarred free and I can actually work again. Hooray! Why didn't I do this on Saturday, exactly?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Revise, Revisen, Revose
Classes resume on Monday. I have had a productive break (despite a cold, and despite two days in Interesting New Northern City). I have, for example:
Perhaps I shall spend a few more minutes cruising the interwebs, then print off the notes that I'll need, and just...read the damn thing again. (It doesn't help that previous revision attempts on this article have resulted in horror. Yes, horror. I have been reading a Russian novel; it is impossible that I not awaken in horror every so often right now.)
Oh, and I am also going to eliminate the Productive Procrastination possibilities. I am not allowed to do any of the following until I have at least read through the article and given it some thought: 1) take notes on the last section of Russian Novel; 2) read fucking Jekyll and Hyde for the 800th time; 3) type up last year's notes on J&H; or 4) open the email containing the other Honors thesis. There. That ought to do it.
- Done lots of laundry.
- Finished a 656-page Russian novel (which meant reading about 500 pages of it in the last six days).
- Made notes on all but the last section of said novel.
- Had my car's oil changed and the car itself washed. Why, in God's name, did I not go to our local drive-through car wash earlier? Seriously. $5, plus $1.50 for the vacuum (our vacuum's not working so well), and my car no longer fills me with embarrassment and/or dismay. Interesting New Northern City notwithstanding, the car wash is the exciting discovery of Spring Break 2010.
- Read three vitae and taken notes on all of the stuff that I've read for my revise-and-resubmit.
- Read and commented on an Honors thesis.
- Finished knitting THIS:
Isn't it ever so cute? It's for my brother's forthcoming baby. My obliging model is Banjo the Bear. I am totally making another one for my own kid if I ever have one; maybe by then I'll be better at buttonholes.
Perhaps I shall spend a few more minutes cruising the interwebs, then print off the notes that I'll need, and just...read the damn thing again. (It doesn't help that previous revision attempts on this article have resulted in horror. Yes, horror. I have been reading a Russian novel; it is impossible that I not awaken in horror every so often right now.)
Oh, and I am also going to eliminate the Productive Procrastination possibilities. I am not allowed to do any of the following until I have at least read through the article and given it some thought: 1) take notes on the last section of Russian Novel; 2) read fucking Jekyll and Hyde for the 800th time; 3) type up last year's notes on J&H; or 4) open the email containing the other Honors thesis. There. That ought to do it.
Friday, January 29, 2010
On the other hand...
I am, indeed, delighted about the R&R. But--oddly enough, sort of--I also heard today about that article that was accepted to Very Good Journal more than two years ago, the publication of which (due to a backlog) was likely to conflict with the book's publication. If you recall, there was some talk by the editor of pushing up the publication date, but with a "why bother?" kind of subtext. Not even a subtext. A supratext, if you will. By which I mean that this message was pretty openly declared.
So I wrote to the editor today, not having heard back following my response (this was before I heard from Trifecta Journal--hence the coincidence), and the situation has been decided, and not in my favor. In short, Article Accepted More Than Two Years Ago will not be published, but I am invited to submit new work.
(Of course, I'd like to see that backlog dealt with first.)
Okay, there's nothing I can do here, and my disappointment is not tragic. I shall finesse my CV to accurately reflect the situation in such a way that does credit to Truth and Ambition, both. And the world keeps spinning. Yep.
Disappointed, though. But the situation is beyond my control; what can you do, eh.
Besides, everything pales beside this:
[The scene: Bazarov has unexpectedly left his parents, Vasily Ivanovich and Arina Vlasevna, at the end of a three-day visit, following a three-year absence. Bazarov is a bit of a jerk, but his parents adore him, as parents do. Vasily Ivanovich has ceased his cheerful waving from the back porch and sat down, allowing his head to droop down to his chest.]
*Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons, trans. Richard Freeborn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 136.
So I wrote to the editor today, not having heard back following my response (this was before I heard from Trifecta Journal--hence the coincidence), and the situation has been decided, and not in my favor. In short, Article Accepted More Than Two Years Ago will not be published, but I am invited to submit new work.
(Of course, I'd like to see that backlog dealt with first.)
Okay, there's nothing I can do here, and my disappointment is not tragic. I shall finesse my CV to accurately reflect the situation in such a way that does credit to Truth and Ambition, both. And the world keeps spinning. Yep.
Disappointed, though. But the situation is beyond my control; what can you do, eh.
Besides, everything pales beside this:
[The scene: Bazarov has unexpectedly left his parents, Vasily Ivanovich and Arina Vlasevna, at the end of a three-day visit, following a three-year absence. Bazarov is a bit of a jerk, but his parents adore him, as parents do. Vasily Ivanovich has ceased his cheerful waving from the back porch and sat down, allowing his head to droop down to his chest.]
Then Arina Vlasevna went up close to him and, leaning her grey head against his grey head, said:Tears, people. Tears. (Especially if you know what happens to Bazarov.)
"There's nothing for it, Vasya! Our son's cut off from us. He's a falcon, like a falcon he wanted to come and he flew here, then he wanted away and he flew away. But you and I, we're just a couple of old mushrooms, we are, stuck in the hollow of a tree, sitting side by side and never moving. Except that I'll always remain the same for you for ever and ever, just as you will for me."
Vasily Ivanovich took his hands away from his face and suddenly embraced his wife, his true friend, more tightly even than he'd been used to embrace her in his youth, for she had comforted him in his misery.*
*Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons, trans. Richard Freeborn (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 136.
R et R
A few months ago I sent out that Hellacious Article, and hey--revise and resubmit, baby! And it's from one of the Journals of the Medieval Trifecta (and no, not the gynecological instrument journal; I am not yet so bold as to have pretensions there). Hurrah!
I haven't read the reports yet, and of course I won't for at least a day or two, because that's always a sickening experience. I'm frankly surprised that I opened the email right away--so quickly, without thought, like a band-aid. If only all potentially painful experiences could be confronted in such unthinking haste.
I haven't read the reports yet, and of course I won't for at least a day or two, because that's always a sickening experience. I'm frankly surprised that I opened the email right away--so quickly, without thought, like a band-aid. If only all potentially painful experiences could be confronted in such unthinking haste.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Yippee. I think.
The article that I moaned about here is off to one of the fanciest of the fancy-pants medievalist journals.
I sent it off today, because in my job letters (for yes, I am applying to exactly three fantabulous jobs, at least one of which I stand no chance of getting, and that's okay), which I mailed this morning, I said that it was currently under review (without saying where, for I Am Nothing If Not Modest).
Being incapable of a lie (I Am Nothing If Not [Mostly] Honest), I couldn't even wait until tomorrow to send the thing off. So there it goes--out into the ether--quite remarkable, really, that such things are possible from my own home. Now, the inevitable wait for the inevitable rejection!
I sent it off today, because in my job letters (for yes, I am applying to exactly three fantabulous jobs, at least one of which I stand no chance of getting, and that's okay), which I mailed this morning, I said that it was currently under review (without saying where, for I Am Nothing If Not Modest).
Being incapable of a lie (I Am Nothing If Not [Mostly] Honest), I couldn't even wait until tomorrow to send the thing off. So there it goes--out into the ether--quite remarkable, really, that such things are possible from my own home. Now, the inevitable wait for the inevitable rejection!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Publication dismay/query
I am disheartened and need advice.
Today I emailed the editors of the two journals in which I have published/had work accepted for publication, verifying that the publication of (different, revised versions of) those articles in the book would be okay. My understanding is that my doing so is largely a courtesy, right? I should note that the book is eight chapters long, so two previously published bits--one of which is only half a chapter--is not excessive.
Haven't heard back from one yet, but I'm not terribly worried about it.
Got an email from the second. This is Big Fancy Journal, and they accepted my article almost two years ago, but it's not in the pipeline yet. Editor writes (very nicely) that ze could push publication ahead so that it'll beat the book, but is there a point? Maybe I should withdraw the article with a note in the book about how it was going to be published in BFJ but would have appeared too close to the book for that to be worthwhile?
I see where ze's coming from, but...I really want to publish in this journal. Of course, it's a nice line on the CV. But more importantly, I think that it will reach a much wider audience--not to mention being available through JStor, Ebsco, etc.--through the journal than through the book.
The article is not identical to the chapter, by the way. It's about half as long and, while the argument is similar, the emphasis is different. It was changed quite a bit from the original chapter in order to stand alone, and then even the original chapter was revised quite a bit for the book. Now, it's not an altogether different thing, and I couldn't make a strong argument that it contributes to the field in a substantially different way. But the journal did commit to publishing the article (right? I think? maybe?), and, well, see the point about being made available to a wider audience, above.
I haven't written back to the editor yet, but I'm wondering: What's the protocol here? Can I (politely, acknowledging that it's ultimately up to the editor) indicate that I'd really prefer to have the article published in BFJ anyway? Or would that be out of line/simply not done? It's a bummer to be sure.... I was pretty psyched about that acceptance (and have been waiting impatiently for publication, too!).
(Kittenfoot is fine. Updates to follow.)
Today I emailed the editors of the two journals in which I have published/had work accepted for publication, verifying that the publication of (different, revised versions of) those articles in the book would be okay. My understanding is that my doing so is largely a courtesy, right? I should note that the book is eight chapters long, so two previously published bits--one of which is only half a chapter--is not excessive.
Haven't heard back from one yet, but I'm not terribly worried about it.
Got an email from the second. This is Big Fancy Journal, and they accepted my article almost two years ago, but it's not in the pipeline yet. Editor writes (very nicely) that ze could push publication ahead so that it'll beat the book, but is there a point? Maybe I should withdraw the article with a note in the book about how it was going to be published in BFJ but would have appeared too close to the book for that to be worthwhile?
I see where ze's coming from, but...I really want to publish in this journal. Of course, it's a nice line on the CV. But more importantly, I think that it will reach a much wider audience--not to mention being available through JStor, Ebsco, etc.--through the journal than through the book.
The article is not identical to the chapter, by the way. It's about half as long and, while the argument is similar, the emphasis is different. It was changed quite a bit from the original chapter in order to stand alone, and then even the original chapter was revised quite a bit for the book. Now, it's not an altogether different thing, and I couldn't make a strong argument that it contributes to the field in a substantially different way. But the journal did commit to publishing the article (right? I think? maybe?), and, well, see the point about being made available to a wider audience, above.
I haven't written back to the editor yet, but I'm wondering: What's the protocol here? Can I (politely, acknowledging that it's ultimately up to the editor) indicate that I'd really prefer to have the article published in BFJ anyway? Or would that be out of line/simply not done? It's a bummer to be sure.... I was pretty psyched about that acceptance (and have been waiting impatiently for publication, too!).
(Kittenfoot is fine. Updates to follow.)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The Laziest Scholar Struggles with an Article
Maude has asked for tales from France, but I'll put those off for a bit, because I feel that I should at least gesture towards some sort of scholarly content on this here blog. I know. Blog as source of guilt? Wacky, huh?
Anyway, here's the problem with this article. Or the two problems, more precisely.
1) I quite simply do not feel motivated to work right now, and frankly I think that, despite my extreme non-workiness over the last week, that this laziness is somewhat justified. I do have a book contract, after all. Have I mentioned recently that I'm the first person at Field to have such a contract in, oh, forty years or more? No? Well, here I go, mentioning it!
1b) Oh, and I am GETTING MARRIED in nine days. Shouldn't I be doing something about that?
2) While I think that I do have some interesting ideas that I'd like to develop in this article, I started it a really long time ago. Thirteen months ago, in fact. So I have this draft, which I think sort of sucks, and some interesting ideas, and I am not the sort of scholar who decides to rewrite things, so I'm stuck with attempting to revise in my new, interesting ideas. During the course of "revising in" I typically wind up rewriting, but I don't like to think of it in those terms. So I have this 33-page lump of text into which I occasionally inject a couple of sentences before shutting my laptop in despair.
Allow me to walk you through the genesis of this "article."
I did fall in love with a visionary Vita-type text, once. Book 2 of Gertrude of Helfta's Legatus Memorialis Abundantiae Divinae Pietatis. But I was a green young prospectus-writer back then.
On the plus side, I took really good notes this time around (insofar as I ever take "really good notes")--so maybe I won't have to slog through the whole thing again anytime soon. Maybe?
Anyway, here's the problem with this article. Or the two problems, more precisely.
1) I quite simply do not feel motivated to work right now, and frankly I think that, despite my extreme non-workiness over the last week, that this laziness is somewhat justified. I do have a book contract, after all. Have I mentioned recently that I'm the first person at Field to have such a contract in, oh, forty years or more? No? Well, here I go, mentioning it!
1b) Oh, and I am GETTING MARRIED in nine days. Shouldn't I be doing something about that?
2) While I think that I do have some interesting ideas that I'd like to develop in this article, I started it a really long time ago. Thirteen months ago, in fact. So I have this draft, which I think sort of sucks, and some interesting ideas, and I am not the sort of scholar who decides to rewrite things, so I'm stuck with attempting to revise in my new, interesting ideas. During the course of "revising in" I typically wind up rewriting, but I don't like to think of it in those terms. So I have this 33-page lump of text into which I occasionally inject a couple of sentences before shutting my laptop in despair.
Allow me to walk you through the genesis of this "article."
- In working on my dissertation, I read a bunch of visionary texts and lives of medieval visionary women. I come across this one, about whom not too much has been written, and, while the narrative in itself didn't captivate me, there was an interesting paragraph in the prologue where the biographer essentially tells his readers that they'd be crazy not to trust him. This paragraph winds up in my last chapter as an example of a phenomenon. It is not discussed at length.
- This chapter, because it's about Chaucer, becomes the basis for a conference paper and a couple of job talks. Interesting Paragraph is mentioned in all of these later incarnations.
- I see an interesting conference CFP (Hi, MW!) and think, Hey, I could write a paper for that, and use IP as an example there, too! In the course of writing the paper, I re-read the Vita in question, and ultimately it becomes the focus of Conference Paper 1: the phenomenon occurring in Interesting Paragraph occurs elsewhere in the text, too, and I'm interested in that.
- Months and months go by. Last summer I decide to write an article based on CP1. I read the Vita for the third time. Phenomenon might be part of a larger technique for structuring how the audience reads the text. An article (which I actually think is okay at the time) gets drafted.
- Then I get readers' reports on my book MS (in September), and the article languishes. In the meantime, however, I submit a proposal for a Leeds paper on the Vita and a much more famous quasi-saint's life.
- Months and months go by.
- In June, I finally write the Leeds paper. I am ashamed to admit that I do not read the Vita for a fourth time. The paper is largely drawn from the slovenly article draft (I no longer find it to be quite so okay), although I manage to refine and develop a few ideas somewhat in the process of writing it up.
- On the plane from Paris to Leeds, I decide that I really ought to reread the Vita in case I get any questions or anything. (I don't. Get questions, that is. Or at least, no questions that require an in-depth knowledge of the text.)
- Obviously I do not finish the Vita before my paper. I wind up reading it (fourth time!) in France and when I get back. I finished it over the weekend.
- This time, I see LOADS of interesting things. All kinds of stuff about reason and unreason, inner and outer experience, harmony and conflict between body and soul. Fascinating asides. I start thinking that I could, like, theorize something here about subjectivity and the divine. Fantastic!
- I start revising. I write about two sentences. I read blogs.
- I start revising the next day. Work well for about an hour. Am confronted with hideous block of text.
- Open document the next day. Hideous block of text remains intact.
- Repeat yesterday.
- And today.
- Yuck.
- Can I just work on syllabi, or something?
I did fall in love with a visionary Vita-type text, once. Book 2 of Gertrude of Helfta's Legatus Memorialis Abundantiae Divinae Pietatis. But I was a green young prospectus-writer back then.
On the plus side, I took really good notes this time around (insofar as I ever take "really good notes")--so maybe I won't have to slog through the whole thing again anytime soon. Maybe?
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