Today, I'm starting to deal with the mess in my living room. But it's so darned hot. Ugh.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
With two weeks to spare...
Five minutes ago, I finished the last of the edits on the introduction and the chapters. These include several rounds of revisions, based on my own ideas, and the readings of Grad School Best Friend M., Clio's Disciple (an old friend and new blogger), and ID.
And two minutes ago, I e-mailed the whole lot to two senior people in my field who have generously agreed to read and comment on the whole thing.
There is more to do, certainly. I need to double-check all my references, and I need to write a conclusion. I will need to incorporate the suggestions that I get from these two readers. And, of course, I will ultimately need to convince my first-choice publisher that this is, in fact, a book worth publishing.
But for right now, I feel happy, a little bit nervous... and actually proud of myself. With two weeks to spare in my fellowship year, I have a manuscript that I'm not embarrassed to show people.
And two minutes ago, I e-mailed the whole lot to two senior people in my field who have generously agreed to read and comment on the whole thing.
There is more to do, certainly. I need to double-check all my references, and I need to write a conclusion. I will need to incorporate the suggestions that I get from these two readers. And, of course, I will ultimately need to convince my first-choice publisher that this is, in fact, a book worth publishing.
But for right now, I feel happy, a little bit nervous... and actually proud of myself. With two weeks to spare in my fellowship year, I have a manuscript that I'm not embarrassed to show people.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
La plus ça change...
I just wrote the following sentence in ch. 4 of my MS:
"Female plaintiffs had a fine line to walk when describing violent sexual encounters: in a culture where submission to male authority and protection of sexual reputation were both part of an appropriate female sexuality, women could have a difficult time describing rape in a way that did not implicate themselves as at least partially culpable."
As someone who writes on (among other things) the history of women in the Middle Ages, the reactions I get from non-academics tend to focus on how uniformly awful things were for women before -- what? 1968? -- and, by implication, how far we've come since then. Unless I'm actually in a lecture hall, I try to shift the topic quickly, because stepping back and really thinking about the above sentence makes me want to take my interlocutor, shake them, and ask them how much they think has really changed.** The problem is that my well-intentioned patriarchy-blaming would probably come out sputtering and quasi-incoherent, thereby undermining my point.
And now I have to wonder, for all those of you historians of women/gender out there: do any of you study any time period, anyplace, where the sentence I wrote above would not be true?
**Yes, yes: I'm aware of the myriad of ways in which my lot is better than that of a woman living in the fourteenth century. I get it. But my point is that it's a little early to hang the "Mission Accomplished" banner, ya dig?
"Female plaintiffs had a fine line to walk when describing violent sexual encounters: in a culture where submission to male authority and protection of sexual reputation were both part of an appropriate female sexuality, women could have a difficult time describing rape in a way that did not implicate themselves as at least partially culpable."
As someone who writes on (among other things) the history of women in the Middle Ages, the reactions I get from non-academics tend to focus on how uniformly awful things were for women before -- what? 1968? -- and, by implication, how far we've come since then. Unless I'm actually in a lecture hall, I try to shift the topic quickly, because stepping back and really thinking about the above sentence makes me want to take my interlocutor, shake them, and ask them how much they think has really changed.** The problem is that my well-intentioned patriarchy-blaming would probably come out sputtering and quasi-incoherent, thereby undermining my point.
And now I have to wonder, for all those of you historians of women/gender out there: do any of you study any time period, anyplace, where the sentence I wrote above would not be true?
**Yes, yes: I'm aware of the myriad of ways in which my lot is better than that of a woman living in the fourteenth century. I get it. But my point is that it's a little early to hang the "Mission Accomplished" banner, ya dig?
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Caffeine-Induced Nostalgia (The Year in Review)
First news: I'm less than 48 hrs from having a draft (minus conclusion) of my book MS. Not a moment too soon, as I have only a couple of weeks in which to organize a cross-country move.
This morning, I find myself in Coffee Shop #1 (pictured), and overcome with a strong sense of nostalgia, both good and bad. Over the year I've spent in Fellowship City, I've explored the coffee shops both near and far, and have found about three favorites, in sequence, plus a few perfectly servicable backups. Coffee Shop #1 is so psuedo-named because it was my first favorite: less than a mile from home, decent coffee & pastry, not-too-loud music, and usually I can get a table. Add a big front window, and you've got a winner. I spent my first couple of months here, working for about 2 ½ hours in the mornings before I went in to the office. I vividly remember sitting at one of the window tables, compiling bibliography by chapter, and sending out e-mails to local people, letting them know I was around. I remember drinking a coffee here and giving myself permission to futz around compiling bibiliography and exploring the town for the first two weeks, rather than jumping right in to one of the chapters. The whole year stretched out ahead of me – who would I meet? What would I get accomplished?
The year between then and now you can read about by going through the archives: I've almost finished the MS, I made some excellent friends (both here in FC, and "here" at GirlScholar), took a fun trip to Chicago, and met that Interesting Development. (I also put on about ten pounds, but we don't need to talk about that while I'm eating my scone.) But here I sit at the other end of it, 48 weeks later, the book MS almost done, no time for another fun trip, friends & ID departed to their respective jobs. And being back here makes me realize what a wonderful year this has been, both professionally and personally.
May I have another?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Paleographic Geekery
.
Quick update: for the last few days, I've been doing two things. First, I've been writing the introduction, then madly rearranging the parts so that I have everything introduced in the correct order. It's like one of those puzzles in the old analytical portions of the GREs, where you have to arrange seating for 6 people, but X can't sit next to Y, and Z has to be between two people taller than she is, blah blah blah...
Second, I've been going through the chapters, cleaning up all those obnoxious little square brackets. And here's where the paleographic geekery comes in (nonmedievalists, feel free to tune out here). I was looking for the name of a monastery that had to be located not too far from the town of X. I had a 150-page book listing all the known monasteries for the entire larger region, with whatever information was known about each, and a document (click on photo to enlarge -- it's in the first line there) in which the name was rendered as a word beginning with a tall letter with a squiggle through the tail, followed by...
No. Wait. This story is too boring to tell in detail. Let's just say that in a flash of paleographic insight, I suddenly realized that the letter I thought had been a "pro-" was actually an "ser-", which made me think of an obscure reference I'd seen elsewhere, and then I followed that up in the guide, and on a map, and got three kinds of rock-solid confirmation for something that had been a total mystery only three minutes earlier.
It was a small triumph, and only cleared up one of about two dozen remaining square brackets, but for a minute there, I got to feel pretty damned smart.
Quick update: for the last few days, I've been doing two things. First, I've been writing the introduction, then madly rearranging the parts so that I have everything introduced in the correct order. It's like one of those puzzles in the old analytical portions of the GREs, where you have to arrange seating for 6 people, but X can't sit next to Y, and Z has to be between two people taller than she is, blah blah blah...
Second, I've been going through the chapters, cleaning up all those obnoxious little square brackets. And here's where the paleographic geekery comes in (nonmedievalists, feel free to tune out here). I was looking for the name of a monastery that had to be located not too far from the town of X. I had a 150-page book listing all the known monasteries for the entire larger region, with whatever information was known about each, and a document (click on photo to enlarge -- it's in the first line there) in which the name was rendered as a word beginning with a tall letter with a squiggle through the tail, followed by...
No. Wait. This story is too boring to tell in detail. Let's just say that in a flash of paleographic insight, I suddenly realized that the letter I thought had been a "pro-" was actually an "ser-", which made me think of an obscure reference I'd seen elsewhere, and then I followed that up in the guide, and on a map, and got three kinds of rock-solid confirmation for something that had been a total mystery only three minutes earlier.
It was a small triumph, and only cleared up one of about two dozen remaining square brackets, but for a minute there, I got to feel pretty damned smart.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Never Trust Another Scholar
So, I've been going through my chapters, filling in square brackets and checking problems in the footnotes. One of the things I ran across to check up on is the fact that, in one paragraph, I refer to a particular law, but give it two different citations in two different footnotes. Strange. Especially since I knew this paragraph was one that I had originally used in an article I published a couple of years ago, and I checked all the citations before it went to press.
So, I went back to the law book to look it up, and found my problem. Let's pretend this particular law begins with the phrase "Ad astra per asperem." Turns out that I had indeed checked out the source and verified that the reference in question actually began with this phrase. The problem is, I didn't read further – I just trusted the citation that had gotten me there, and the quick check I made.
Apparently, this law code has TWO laws that begin "Ad astra per asperem," separated by about ten pages. And within the space of three sentences in my book MS, I managed to cite them both. I've corrected it now, but the older article is in print, with the error.
And, I would lighten up, but this particular law is a very well-known and important one. And I screwed it up in print.
The only comfort I have is that the scholar from whom I backtracked the original erroneous reference – someone much more established than I – made the same error, and is also in print as such. So, the responsibility lies partly with Established Scholar, but mostly it's my own fault for not doing a thorough enough reference check. And while this is embarrassing, at least it's a lesson I've learned with an early-career article, rather than a book.
Still… ::cringe::
So, I went back to the law book to look it up, and found my problem. Let's pretend this particular law begins with the phrase "Ad astra per asperem." Turns out that I had indeed checked out the source and verified that the reference in question actually began with this phrase. The problem is, I didn't read further – I just trusted the citation that had gotten me there, and the quick check I made.
Apparently, this law code has TWO laws that begin "Ad astra per asperem," separated by about ten pages. And within the space of three sentences in my book MS, I managed to cite them both. I've corrected it now, but the older article is in print, with the error.
And, I would lighten up, but this particular law is a very well-known and important one. And I screwed it up in print.
The only comfort I have is that the scholar from whom I backtracked the original erroneous reference – someone much more established than I – made the same error, and is also in print as such. So, the responsibility lies partly with Established Scholar, but mostly it's my own fault for not doing a thorough enough reference check. And while this is embarrassing, at least it's a lesson I've learned with an early-career article, rather than a book.
Still… ::cringe::
Friday, July 18, 2008
Only three months late
...but I've finally submitted my book order for the semester that starts in six weeks.
Yeesh.
Yeesh.
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