Another Very Short Post, because it's time to get going for work. I now stand at the precipice of Summer Break: one week of courses, one week of finals, one week of frantic grading and commencement exercises.
But this is also the time that things start to surface. All those promised writing projects that I put in cement overshoes and let sink to the bottom are floating to the top, bobbing up like unquiet corpses, staring accusingly with sightless eyes: "You promissssseed...."
Yep. Summer of the walking dead, coming to a theater near you.
Showing posts with label research and writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label research and writing. Show all posts
Monday, May 7, 2018
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Did I really just do that?
I may be off by a few days. I may have a few more proofreads and some footnotes to format. But...
BUT...
I think I just wrote an 8,000-word article, start to finish,[1] in the month of January.
Holy moly.
...
...
I wonder if I could do that again?
[1] To be fair, I'd done 90% of the research already. And the idea had been kicking around in my head for over a year. But the writing. I wrote the thing. All of it. In a month.
BUT...
I think I just wrote an 8,000-word article, start to finish,[1] in the month of January.
Holy moly.
...
...
I wonder if I could do that again?
[1] To be fair, I'd done 90% of the research already. And the idea had been kicking around in my head for over a year. But the writing. I wrote the thing. All of it. In a month.
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Write All the Things
In addition to reading and blogging, I'm also trying to get back into the habit of daily writing. I'd better, because I have no fewer than four deadline-specific papers or articles to deliver before June 30... and this doesn't even count the book manuscript.
That's a bit too short for a post, isn't it? As Iñigo Montoya said,
Yeah. That's my to-do list in a nutshell.
Once again, I said "yes" to too many things. Each of these are individually worthwhile: a paper for a "why yes, we'll fly you to Europe" conference that will result in a publication of a loose end that I wanted to publish anyway. A conference paper for a panel organized by a friend on a topic that I actually know something about, and that will give me a weekend to see said friend at a conference. Two revisions/updates of things I've already published. All worthwhile. And for the record, I did say "no" to one other writing-on-commission thing that came my way last year.
How will I get through this? Same way I'm gonna get through Middlemarch: one page at a time. But this is going to require a combination of consistency and ambition and persistence that I haven't had to deploy since I wrote my master's thesis in six agonizing weeks while finishing my MA coursework.[1]
The reward? Once I'm done with these things -- and provided I can avoid saying yes to anything else -- I'll get to finish the damn book when I'm done.
And speaking of Another Damn Book... more on that in a future post. I've been away for long, and have much to tell.
[1] I read and explored and researched for the summer between year 1 & year 2. Then, sometime in late January, my adviser said, "Why aren't you writing yet?" And so, faced with the need to crank out a chapter a week, I wrote frantically six days a week. On the seventh day, I drank.
That's a bit too short for a post, isn't it? As Iñigo Montoya said,
Yeah. That's my to-do list in a nutshell.
Once again, I said "yes" to too many things. Each of these are individually worthwhile: a paper for a "why yes, we'll fly you to Europe" conference that will result in a publication of a loose end that I wanted to publish anyway. A conference paper for a panel organized by a friend on a topic that I actually know something about, and that will give me a weekend to see said friend at a conference. Two revisions/updates of things I've already published. All worthwhile. And for the record, I did say "no" to one other writing-on-commission thing that came my way last year.
How will I get through this? Same way I'm gonna get through Middlemarch: one page at a time. But this is going to require a combination of consistency and ambition and persistence that I haven't had to deploy since I wrote my master's thesis in six agonizing weeks while finishing my MA coursework.[1]
The reward? Once I'm done with these things -- and provided I can avoid saying yes to anything else -- I'll get to finish the damn book when I'm done.
And speaking of Another Damn Book... more on that in a future post. I've been away for long, and have much to tell.
[1] I read and explored and researched for the summer between year 1 & year 2. Then, sometime in late January, my adviser said, "Why aren't you writing yet?" And so, faced with the need to crank out a chapter a week, I wrote frantically six days a week. On the seventh day, I drank.
Friday, September 15, 2017
Waitress Nightmares for Researchers
I used to have waitress nightmares all the time. Those of you who have waited tables know what I'm talking about. For those of you who haven't: A waitress nightmare is when you turn around and all the tables in your section have not only been seated while you weren't looking, but somehow they've all been sitting there for 20 minutes, and their water is empty, and you've given some of them the wrong meals, and the others have gotten so incredibly fed up waiting that they've gotten up and left just as you were about to get to them, and how could this happen?
I always joked that my waitress anxiety nightmares were worse than any similar ones I had about teaching or comps or whatever. But every profession has one of these. Where you are actually good at your job, but in your dream, everything goes so impossibly sideways that it's ridiculous and you wake up half-sobbing, half relieved that it's not real.
Here's one for academic researchers: you are on a sabbatical or other leave that you hardly ever get, and you get up and get to the archive your FIRST full day there, jet lag be damned, because you know how short and precious your time is. And for once you have made a list and are totally prepared, and you even have a plan of this archive in the morning and that archive in the afternoon and you've done most of your advance work for the first time in ages, and then you get to the archive and sit in the reading room by yourself because the entire staff has gone on strike, indefinitely.
That is some waitress-quality nightmare-ing.
But here's the twist: This time, it's REAL. And I don't get to wake up and shake it off. I get to wrack my brains for what to do, now that I'm here with no access to the materials I planned to consult, and no way to get this time back.
::sigh::
I always joked that my waitress anxiety nightmares were worse than any similar ones I had about teaching or comps or whatever. But every profession has one of these. Where you are actually good at your job, but in your dream, everything goes so impossibly sideways that it's ridiculous and you wake up half-sobbing, half relieved that it's not real.
Here's one for academic researchers: you are on a sabbatical or other leave that you hardly ever get, and you get up and get to the archive your FIRST full day there, jet lag be damned, because you know how short and precious your time is. And for once you have made a list and are totally prepared, and you even have a plan of this archive in the morning and that archive in the afternoon and you've done most of your advance work for the first time in ages, and then you get to the archive and sit in the reading room by yourself because the entire staff has gone on strike, indefinitely.
That is some waitress-quality nightmare-ing.
But here's the twist: This time, it's REAL. And I don't get to wake up and shake it off. I get to wrack my brains for what to do, now that I'm here with no access to the materials I planned to consult, and no way to get this time back.
::sigh::
Saturday, June 3, 2017
Weekend Stockpiling
Once upon a time, I ran writing groups.
I ran a few here, and those became unwieldy. So then I ran a few on Facebook, and those were better, though still a lot of work. I realized that I can run a writing group, or write, but I can't do both without going nuts. So I'm not running them for the foreseeable future.
Still, I learned a few important lessons. The first was write every day. Every day you are away from the work is a day to lose your place. Every day you are writing -- even frustrating days where you only write two sentences -- is a chance that you might find your spark.
Paradoxically, the other lesson I learned was that some days you shouldn't write. I learned this from having writing group members with families and children, who wanted to keep those weekends sacred. As a solo flier with no children, I literally hadn't even thought of this. But I quickly realized how important those two days were: not just to recharge the batteries, but to stockpile raw materials for the week to come.
So, this weekend I've been trying to follow my own advice, reading and taking notes. So far, I've read two articles about Blerg City's fish market. Tomorrow I'm going to dive into my scanned sources and find out all I can about the city's porters and bearers. And then, come Monday, it'll be off to the races, I hope.
I've got an ambitious goal. I'll need to blow well past my usual 500 words a day to make it happen. But so far, so good.
This is going to be the least relaxing summer ever.
I ran a few here, and those became unwieldy. So then I ran a few on Facebook, and those were better, though still a lot of work. I realized that I can run a writing group, or write, but I can't do both without going nuts. So I'm not running them for the foreseeable future.
Still, I learned a few important lessons. The first was write every day. Every day you are away from the work is a day to lose your place. Every day you are writing -- even frustrating days where you only write two sentences -- is a chance that you might find your spark.
Paradoxically, the other lesson I learned was that some days you shouldn't write. I learned this from having writing group members with families and children, who wanted to keep those weekends sacred. As a solo flier with no children, I literally hadn't even thought of this. But I quickly realized how important those two days were: not just to recharge the batteries, but to stockpile raw materials for the week to come.
So, this weekend I've been trying to follow my own advice, reading and taking notes. So far, I've read two articles about Blerg City's fish market. Tomorrow I'm going to dive into my scanned sources and find out all I can about the city's porters and bearers. And then, come Monday, it'll be off to the races, I hope.
I've got an ambitious goal. I'll need to blow well past my usual 500 words a day to make it happen. But so far, so good.
This is going to be the least relaxing summer ever.
Thursday, June 1, 2017
Throwing Down the Gauntlet
I have slightly less than 2 chapters to write this summer.
By odd coincidence, one of my M.A. students has pretty much the same feat to accomplish for their thesis. I wrote my student to inform them of this interesting fact. And I issued a challenge: Shall we do this together?
I'll let you know if xe accepts.
And... just as I was about to post this, I got a reply: turns out xe only has one chapter left to go... but also the intro. So we're on for racing to the end of our respective chapters.
By odd coincidence, one of my M.A. students has pretty much the same feat to accomplish for their thesis. I wrote my student to inform them of this interesting fact. And I issued a challenge: Shall we do this together?
I'll let you know if xe accepts.
And... just as I was about to post this, I got a reply: turns out xe only has one chapter left to go... but also the intro. So we're on for racing to the end of our respective chapters.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Procrastivity, and Why I Need It
Over the past several days, I have been engaging in procrastivity: Doing somewhat important stuff in order to avoid doing the really important stuff. In particular: I've been combing through the many, many files that have not so much been filed as... grown like a tumor. A proliferation of files choking out other files, to the point where I have no idea what I have.
Today I went on the hunt for one particular bit of information -- something about a grain storage warehouse. And I found a file that described just what I needed. And I even remembered that I discovered this last summer during my research. Yes, I wrote it down.
No, I apparently did not write down the source.
Sometimes I wonder how I ever manage to write anything. What a mess.
But it's a little less messy every day
Today I went on the hunt for one particular bit of information -- something about a grain storage warehouse. And I found a file that described just what I needed. And I even remembered that I discovered this last summer during my research. Yes, I wrote it down.
No, I apparently did not write down the source.
Sometimes I wonder how I ever manage to write anything. What a mess.
But it's a little less messy every day
Monday, May 29, 2017
The Final Push Begins
Ladies and gentlemen -- all six of you who are still reading -- the final push has begun. Over half a dozen years ago, I began Another Damn Book. Currently, I have three draft chapters, one draft intro, one hot mess of a chapter-shaped object, and one chapter that is largely notional. By the end of the calendar year, I aim to have a respectable draft of the whole thing. And, with the semester, grading, and commencement behind me, and a summer and a sabbatical semester ahead of me, that process began TODAY.
This fall, I'm going to Blerg City to patch holes. Which means that I need all the chapters complete, if not polished, by September 1. This gives me precisely 3 months to patch up Hot Mess Chapter, and to write Sometimes an Adequate Notion Chapter.** I am not sure if I'll work on them sequentially, or intersperse them. But today I sat down with what I have for Hot Mess Chapter, figured out how to organize it, and my rough word counts (which are short, but may expand). I even figured out how to start it: It begins with a map.
Here we go...
**oh, and i need to revise a co-authored article and write a book review somewhere in there, too.
This fall, I'm going to Blerg City to patch holes. Which means that I need all the chapters complete, if not polished, by September 1. This gives me precisely 3 months to patch up Hot Mess Chapter, and to write Sometimes an Adequate Notion Chapter.** I am not sure if I'll work on them sequentially, or intersperse them. But today I sat down with what I have for Hot Mess Chapter, figured out how to organize it, and my rough word counts (which are short, but may expand). I even figured out how to start it: It begins with a map.
Here we go...
**oh, and i need to revise a co-authored article and write a book review somewhere in there, too.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
The Accidental Writer
I haven't been writing much about writing. In general, writing is a frustrating process for me, and talking about how frustrating it is often finds me with my head further up my ass than when I began. Or, even worse, writing about writing takes away time that I should be using to write.
So it is with real pleasure that I share a bit of news. I may have shared at some point about "procrastivity" -- that is, procrastination, accidental or deliberate, that somehow turns into productivity.
This was not real procrastination. Rather, it was prioritizing a talk over writing my book. That's productive, sure, but not the thing I was supposed to be working on. But there it is: this semester found me plugging away at a "what I did on my leave" presentation for my department. I was supposed to present on my research for about 40 minutes, after which there would be another 40 minutes of Q & A, and then we'd all go home. It's actually a very nice thing our department does, and something you don't often find outside of research universities.
So I started writing. And here's the amazing cool thing that happened:
.....................................................
Late September: Should I present a chapter? No: since I'm close to done with this project, I should present an overview. So this will include narrations about what my big question is, and also what each chapter is, and how it contributes to the whole.
Early October: But then there's the question of audience: If my presentation is all medieval, then my colleagues (almost all historians of the 19th and 20th centuries) might find themselves at a loss for how to engage. So... Okay, I'll make sure to have a lot in there about approach and methodology and maybe even a little of that Cool New Theoretical Framework I've been trying to use.
Mid-October: This thing is getting kind of way to long. Remember THAT ONE PRESENTATION that never ended? You don't want to do that. Nobody ever complained that a presentation ran short after all. But I don't want to dam the flow. I'll just write it as it comes out of my brain, and the fact that it's about 8,500 words long is okay; I'll just cut it down for the presentation....
Hey.
Wait just one minute.
8,500 words. With question, argument, methodology, theory, narrative chapter outline...
DID I JUST ACCIDENTALLY WRITE A DRAFT OF MY BOOK'S INTRODUCTION?
Yeah. I'm pretty sure I did.
.....................................................
Huzzah for procrastivity!!!
So it is with real pleasure that I share a bit of news. I may have shared at some point about "procrastivity" -- that is, procrastination, accidental or deliberate, that somehow turns into productivity.
This was not real procrastination. Rather, it was prioritizing a talk over writing my book. That's productive, sure, but not the thing I was supposed to be working on. But there it is: this semester found me plugging away at a "what I did on my leave" presentation for my department. I was supposed to present on my research for about 40 minutes, after which there would be another 40 minutes of Q & A, and then we'd all go home. It's actually a very nice thing our department does, and something you don't often find outside of research universities.
So I started writing. And here's the amazing cool thing that happened:
.....................................................
Late September: Should I present a chapter? No: since I'm close to done with this project, I should present an overview. So this will include narrations about what my big question is, and also what each chapter is, and how it contributes to the whole.
Early October: But then there's the question of audience: If my presentation is all medieval, then my colleagues (almost all historians of the 19th and 20th centuries) might find themselves at a loss for how to engage. So... Okay, I'll make sure to have a lot in there about approach and methodology and maybe even a little of that Cool New Theoretical Framework I've been trying to use.
Mid-October: This thing is getting kind of way to long. Remember THAT ONE PRESENTATION that never ended? You don't want to do that. Nobody ever complained that a presentation ran short after all. But I don't want to dam the flow. I'll just write it as it comes out of my brain, and the fact that it's about 8,500 words long is okay; I'll just cut it down for the presentation....
Hey.
Wait just one minute.
8,500 words. With question, argument, methodology, theory, narrative chapter outline...
DID I JUST ACCIDENTALLY WRITE A DRAFT OF MY BOOK'S INTRODUCTION?
Yeah. I'm pretty sure I did.
.....................................................
Huzzah for procrastivity!!!
Friday, September 9, 2016
Medieval Mammal of the Week
And trust me: you DO have mice on board your medieval ship. Be smart: get a least weasel now, before it's too late.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
A Litany of Complaint about Notarial Records
Someone tell me how to love notarial archives.
For those of you unfamiliar with this beast, these are (at least in my field) books of contracts. X acknolwedges a debt to Y, and promises to pay in Z amount of time. Q is giving R such-and-such an amount of goods of this kind to take to Far Away to sell and return with this other thing. Joe agrees to pay a dowry of this amount to Sue, and then 2 pages of legalese.
I know people out there who have written amazing books from these things. I have heard more than one say "there are treasures in there!" And I've been spending the last two and a half weeks going through them. I have to say, I'm not in love yet.
First there is the handwriting. For my late medieval era, what we have are these scribbles. They remind me of the stuff you're writing in the margins when you're grading the 18th paper of the night, and then the student comes back two days later and asks you what it says, and you literally have no idea, even though it's your own hand. Yeah, they look like that. Plus faded. And kinda destroyed by insects and moisture. One grad school professor described the records she was working with as: "like they had been written in champagne on a cocktail napkin." That's sort of how I feel about these.
Then, there are the abbreviations. The notary is scribbling this all down in his book, and will make a fancy copy later, but right now, he's doing something for his own records, so whole words are apparently a luxury.
Also: reading contracts is not exactly exciting. I've worked in court records, and there every document has, if not drama, then conflict. Something to animate it. This? I'm just not seeing it. There are interesting patterns to be found when you stack them up, but individually, they're pretty dull.
And finally, about that pattern: it takes about a gazillion of these things to see it. And I think this is my greatest frustration. I'm going through these godawful books, and I don't know what I'm looking for because I have to look carefully at everything before I can figure out what the patterns are and truly focus in on the ones that are going to be important for me, which will allow me to speed up a bit. Eventually.
Upon rereading this, I realize that these are the same complaints that I could have written the very first time I encountered any archival documents ever, back when I was a wee slip of a grad student. This is that, times twenty. I never realized how good I had it.
So: notarial archive folks out there: teach me how to love these? Because it looks like we're gonna be together for a while.
For those of you unfamiliar with this beast, these are (at least in my field) books of contracts. X acknolwedges a debt to Y, and promises to pay in Z amount of time. Q is giving R such-and-such an amount of goods of this kind to take to Far Away to sell and return with this other thing. Joe agrees to pay a dowry of this amount to Sue, and then 2 pages of legalese.
I know people out there who have written amazing books from these things. I have heard more than one say "there are treasures in there!" And I've been spending the last two and a half weeks going through them. I have to say, I'm not in love yet.
First there is the handwriting. For my late medieval era, what we have are these scribbles. They remind me of the stuff you're writing in the margins when you're grading the 18th paper of the night, and then the student comes back two days later and asks you what it says, and you literally have no idea, even though it's your own hand. Yeah, they look like that. Plus faded. And kinda destroyed by insects and moisture. One grad school professor described the records she was working with as: "like they had been written in champagne on a cocktail napkin." That's sort of how I feel about these.
 | |
| I've seen better. But Ive also seen worse. |
Then, there are the abbreviations. The notary is scribbling this all down in his book, and will make a fancy copy later, but right now, he's doing something for his own records, so whole words are apparently a luxury.
Also: reading contracts is not exactly exciting. I've worked in court records, and there every document has, if not drama, then conflict. Something to animate it. This? I'm just not seeing it. There are interesting patterns to be found when you stack them up, but individually, they're pretty dull.
And finally, about that pattern: it takes about a gazillion of these things to see it. And I think this is my greatest frustration. I'm going through these godawful books, and I don't know what I'm looking for because I have to look carefully at everything before I can figure out what the patterns are and truly focus in on the ones that are going to be important for me, which will allow me to speed up a bit. Eventually.
Upon rereading this, I realize that these are the same complaints that I could have written the very first time I encountered any archival documents ever, back when I was a wee slip of a grad student. This is that, times twenty. I never realized how good I had it.
So: notarial archive folks out there: teach me how to love these? Because it looks like we're gonna be together for a while.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Quiz time! What Fresh Hell Is This?
"You have to look at, like, 200 of the things. And then, suddenly, you read the 201st, and you say 'Oh! So that's what's going on!' And then you have to go back and check the first 200 again."
This quote, over lunch, from Mr. 3D, my frère d'une autre mère here in Blerg City (yes I'm back).
Archive-based historians, what kinds of records are we talking about?
This quote, over lunch, from Mr. 3D, my frère d'une autre mère here in Blerg City (yes I'm back).
Archive-based historians, what kinds of records are we talking about?
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Research Notes from the Voices in My Head
You know those little notes we write to ourselves as we frantically scribble the drafts? Those little square-bracketed comments and reminders? Usually, they are something along the lines of:
- "Didn't I read something about this a couple months ago? Check notes."
- "Learn more about banking system to write 1 para."
- “Neither revolt’s perpetrator was kind enough to leave behind a manifesto telling later historians what their riot was all about. [Inconsiderate bastards].”
- "A great deal has been written about riots without realizing that not all riots are the same, nor even remembered the same: the meaning of a riot changes. [Yeah, go ahead: pretend you’re a cultural historian. That’ll be fun.]"
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Large to Small, and Back Again
About a month ago, I switched tracks from the chapter I put to bed (ready or not) so I could distill a paper from it. Anyone who's been reading my agonized posts knows that this chapter has been giving me fits. It was chock full o' facts, and even finally had an argument, but it just felt... flat. No, worse: it was simultaneously flat and bloated. How does that happen?
In any case, a few weeks ago I made the decision to put the chapter to bed. It was a draft; it had a beginning, a middle, and an end. I knew where the holes were, but I knew they could be filled later, and I didn't want to spend another month tinkering with it right now. Besides, I had a deadline: I had a paper to present at the Brain Ranch (not Hogwarts, but nearby) in three weeks, and I had to somehow condense something from the flat-yet-bloated chapter into 25-30 nice, tight, coherent minutes. Oh, and I had to make maps and genealogical charts.
I've always worked from small to large. I write a conference paper or two or three. Sometimes I expand them into articles. But probably a third of my first-book manuscript originated as conference papers. These gave me concrete deadlines and forced me to dig in and argue.
Here, I was trying to compress something big and sprawling into something short and compelling. And it was hard. I kept excising things. But here's what happened: that excision process forced me to think: "I've only got 12 pages. What's really important here?"
And in the process of writing that short paper, I finally discovered my chapter.
(Oh. And the maps and charts turned out nice, too.)
In any case, a few weeks ago I made the decision to put the chapter to bed. It was a draft; it had a beginning, a middle, and an end. I knew where the holes were, but I knew they could be filled later, and I didn't want to spend another month tinkering with it right now. Besides, I had a deadline: I had a paper to present at the Brain Ranch (not Hogwarts, but nearby) in three weeks, and I had to somehow condense something from the flat-yet-bloated chapter into 25-30 nice, tight, coherent minutes. Oh, and I had to make maps and genealogical charts.
I've always worked from small to large. I write a conference paper or two or three. Sometimes I expand them into articles. But probably a third of my first-book manuscript originated as conference papers. These gave me concrete deadlines and forced me to dig in and argue.
Here, I was trying to compress something big and sprawling into something short and compelling. And it was hard. I kept excising things. But here's what happened: that excision process forced me to think: "I've only got 12 pages. What's really important here?"
And in the process of writing that short paper, I finally discovered my chapter.
(Oh. And the maps and charts turned out nice, too.)
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
What I Meant by "Don't Write What Bores You"
I'm rounding the corner on a conference paper culled from the chapter that had been fighting me for the past few months, and that I recently put to bed, even though it was by no means ready to go. It had a beginning, middle, and end, so I could walk away. But I wasn't satisfied.
And about a week ago, I realized that the problem was that the chapter as I had constructed it just didn't interest me. The facts were right, but the argument was forced, in general because I couldn't make myself care one little bit about the stuff I was writing about.
I was, in short, writing the chapter for the same reason that I put on pants in the morning: because I thought people would expect it. "Where's your chapter on X?", I imagined them saying. "How could you possibly write a book about Blerg City in this time and place without going in depth into this Very Important Issue?"
Well, yeah. I don't disagree. It's an important part of the larger story I want to tell. But I couldn't make myself care. And as a result, I had 20,000 flat, boring words that had taken me months to put together, and that no one could conceivably enjoy reading.
Once this realization dawned on me, I left my office took a walk around the Hogwarts grounds, which are lovely grounds for strolling. I muttered to myself[1] as I strolled -- "I don't care about that. What I'm really interested in is..." -- until I could finish that sentence.
Now, as heu mihi pointed out in the comments to my previous post, sometimes we do have to write boring-to-us stuff in order to get to the thing that interests us. True enough. But what I'm talking about is entire long stretches of writing -- a chapter, an article, god help us a book -- that we just don't give a damn about. The way I see it, if you don't decide to just trash it and walk away, and you don't want to publish something that just lies there like a dead fish, you have one choice: find the thing within the boring thing that actually interests you, and make that your center.
This is just what I did. I did it on a smaller scale: I have a conference paper in two weeks, so I need about 3500 words (it's a longer paper) on a nice, tight idea. So I'm writing this paper around that interesting idea. And I think -- I hope -- that this may save my chapter. But more on that later.
[1] As I did so, I tried not to worry that passers-by would think I was nuts. Hogwarts, I reasoned, is the kind of place where the first assumption might be to assume I was a mad genius. And anyway, I'll be leaving in a few months, so who cares what they think?
And about a week ago, I realized that the problem was that the chapter as I had constructed it just didn't interest me. The facts were right, but the argument was forced, in general because I couldn't make myself care one little bit about the stuff I was writing about.
I was, in short, writing the chapter for the same reason that I put on pants in the morning: because I thought people would expect it. "Where's your chapter on X?", I imagined them saying. "How could you possibly write a book about Blerg City in this time and place without going in depth into this Very Important Issue?"
Well, yeah. I don't disagree. It's an important part of the larger story I want to tell. But I couldn't make myself care. And as a result, I had 20,000 flat, boring words that had taken me months to put together, and that no one could conceivably enjoy reading.
Once this realization dawned on me, I left my office took a walk around the Hogwarts grounds, which are lovely grounds for strolling. I muttered to myself[1] as I strolled -- "I don't care about that. What I'm really interested in is..." -- until I could finish that sentence.
Now, as heu mihi pointed out in the comments to my previous post, sometimes we do have to write boring-to-us stuff in order to get to the thing that interests us. True enough. But what I'm talking about is entire long stretches of writing -- a chapter, an article, god help us a book -- that we just don't give a damn about. The way I see it, if you don't decide to just trash it and walk away, and you don't want to publish something that just lies there like a dead fish, you have one choice: find the thing within the boring thing that actually interests you, and make that your center.
This is just what I did. I did it on a smaller scale: I have a conference paper in two weeks, so I need about 3500 words (it's a longer paper) on a nice, tight idea. So I'm writing this paper around that interesting idea. And I think -- I hope -- that this may save my chapter. But more on that later.
[1] As I did so, I tried not to worry that passers-by would think I was nuts. Hogwarts, I reasoned, is the kind of place where the first assumption might be to assume I was a mad genius. And anyway, I'll be leaving in a few months, so who cares what they think?
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Some Advice for Writers Who Are Bored
::ahem::
If you are not interested in what you are writing, then there is no way in hell that your reader or listener will be interested. DO NOT WRITE WHAT BORES YOU.**
**There are, of course, caveats and addenda and a whole flippin' backstory to this involving me wondering why I spent almost three months on a chapter and was still thinking "so what?!?", but I did just figure it out and now I'm 150 words into my introduction to a conference paper and think I can knock off the whole damn thing (the intro, that is; not the whole paper) and best of all, I may just have something interesting to say. So I'm gonna go say it. But stay tuned...
If you are not interested in what you are writing, then there is no way in hell that your reader or listener will be interested. DO NOT WRITE WHAT BORES YOU.**
**There are, of course, caveats and addenda and a whole flippin' backstory to this involving me wondering why I spent almost three months on a chapter and was still thinking "so what?!?", but I did just figure it out and now I'm 150 words into my introduction to a conference paper and think I can knock off the whole damn thing (the intro, that is; not the whole paper) and best of all, I may just have something interesting to say. So I'm gonna go say it. But stay tuned...
Friday, November 13, 2015
My Book Chatper as Toddler
"We've had a long, busy day, haven't we?"
"yeah! we added words and looked things up and got lost but then got found kinda even though it wasn't where we were going and there was ice cream and coffee and..."
"Yes, honey. That's right. And now it's time to put you to bed."
"i'm not ready to go to bed!"
"Nevertheless. Grab your jammies."
"but... I want another drink of water. and to watch just one more show."
"No. It's bedtime. Don't worry though: tomorrow will be another day and we will watch a show together then. I'm sure of it. Just not tonight. For tonight, we're done."
"but i doan' wanna!"
"You've been up for way longer than I had planned already. Bed."
"but... you might not know this mommy: i didn't brush my teeth yet."
"That's okay, honey. Those baby teeth are going to fall out anyway."
"why do I have to go to bed when i'm not even tired!"
"Because mommy is tired. So that's the end of it. Bed. NOW."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good night for now, sweet chapter. I know we've got loads more to do together, but mommy needs a break for a bit.
"yeah! we added words and looked things up and got lost but then got found kinda even though it wasn't where we were going and there was ice cream and coffee and..."
"Yes, honey. That's right. And now it's time to put you to bed."
"i'm not ready to go to bed!"
"Nevertheless. Grab your jammies."
"but... I want another drink of water. and to watch just one more show."
"No. It's bedtime. Don't worry though: tomorrow will be another day and we will watch a show together then. I'm sure of it. Just not tonight. For tonight, we're done."
"but i doan' wanna!"
"You've been up for way longer than I had planned already. Bed."
"but... you might not know this mommy: i didn't brush my teeth yet."
"That's okay, honey. Those baby teeth are going to fall out anyway."
"why do I have to go to bed when i'm not even tired!"
"Because mommy is tired. So that's the end of it. Bed. NOW."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Good night for now, sweet chapter. I know we've got loads more to do together, but mommy needs a break for a bit.
Friday, October 23, 2015
The Soundtrack of Scholarship
I like a little music while I scholar.
I know from experience that earplugs actually serve me better in terms of directing my focus inward. But sometimes work is better with music.
When I'm reading or writing, I like things with no words, or in words in a language I don't understand. NO CRESCENDOS. So something like piano sonatas, or even modern composers, or baroque choral music in Latin? We're good. Hell, even tibetan chimes/singing bowls, if it's early and still dark. Chopin nocturnes for when it's actually nox.
But occasionally, scholar-ing is a bit more active. Physically active. Like today, when the Hogwarts butler commandeered a giant chalkboard for me and I spent two hours making this:[1]
I know from experience that earplugs actually serve me better in terms of directing my focus inward. But sometimes work is better with music.
When I'm reading or writing, I like things with no words, or in words in a language I don't understand. NO CRESCENDOS. So something like piano sonatas, or even modern composers, or baroque choral music in Latin? We're good. Hell, even tibetan chimes/singing bowls, if it's early and still dark. Chopin nocturnes for when it's actually nox.
But occasionally, scholar-ing is a bit more active. Physically active. Like today, when the Hogwarts butler commandeered a giant chalkboard for me and I spent two hours making this:[1]
I puttered at it for a while, unsatisfied, but really picked up the pace and started enjoying myself when I found the right music. If you're familiar with either of Bob Mould's projects (Hüsker Dü or Sugar) that bracket his two solo albums (Workbook being a lot mellower than BSoR), you'll understand the sort of "I am not leaving the room until I kick this project's ass" mood that I was in. It was also a great relief to be physically moving, stalking from side to side of this board, standing back to see the whole thing, and occasionally getting into the music a bit -- not quite a dance break, but about as close as one gets with a bit of hard-rocking post-punk. So, on the off-chance that you have some more kinetic scholar-ing to do this weekend, enjoy:
[1] "This" being a version of the genealogy of the medieval family that I was complaining about in this post. Believe it or not, this is far from complete: I had to leave out about half a dozen maternal lines because they added lines and messes on the board making the whole thing even less legible than previously. I settled for appending the brides' natal surnames -- something that medieval documents never do,[2] but that at least let me see what lineages were being brought together.
As far as all this mess goes, I'm really interested in the middle lineage, and in particular in a guy in the middle of the middle. But I was somehow driven by an urge to understand how it all fit together. So I made a Thing.
[2] ...except in a one very nifty case here in which the maternal surname becomes the surname for an entire branch of the lineage, for reasons that would make a very interesting research paper, I think.
Monday, October 19, 2015
An Open Letter to the Six-Generations of Sprawling Medieval Family I am Studying at the Moment
I mean seriously: can you *imagine* what these family reunions were like?
"Clara! You remember your uncle Bernard, don't you?"
"Really? I thought you were dead. I mean, I know that's not polite, but I swear I heard you died at sea."
 |
| 3 of what would ultimately become 5 pages of ArghIckHate |
"Ah. That explains it. My apologies."
"And who is this fine young lad hiding behind your skirts?"
"Oh, that's my son Bernard. But since that's his father's name as well, we call him Bernardino until he comes of age. To avoid confusion, you understand."
"Of course."
Seriously. This has been my entire weekend. And that's with the aid of someone who wrote a 135-page article on one century of this family's history. Bleah.
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