So, perhaps I'm the only one paying attention to my blog's sidebar, but have you noticed that there's now not one but two word-counters there?
Yes, I'm insane.
I've finished the Shitty First Draft and Slightly Better Second Draft of the big article project that I want in review-ready (though anticipating one more revision before final submission) form by the end of the semester. But I've also got a conference coming up in November. And the paper actually has to be good, because the organizer got the bright idea of getting Esteemed Former Advisor to chair the panel.
(Eeep!)
I'm currently calming myself by telling myself that it's only ten or eleven pages, and I can write only ten or eleven pages on anything. But I also remember my disaster at Kalamazoo last year, when I discovered that I really couldn't, not always. And this is my first real foray into Shiny New Project territory.
So, this morning I read a book on the new topic. I'm on my way. Wish me luck.
**The "twelve weeks" of the title refer to the approximate length of time between the day I started this absurd write-every-day thing, and the end of the semester.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Do they really think I can understand them?
The guys who shout at me from car windows while I'm riding my bike, that is. It happened again today.He could have been yelling "Nice t!ts!" or "Get out of the road, btch!" (both of which have been yelled at me on previous occasions), or even "Eureka! I've just solved Fermat's last theorem!" The fact that the yeller was leaning out the passenger window to look at the yell-ee (me) as he passed implied to me that he was expecting some sort of response. But of course, the magic of the doppler effect (bike = 15 mph; car = 35 mph) turned his words into an aural smear.
Somehow, I don't think I'm missing much.
Somehow, I don't think I'm missing much.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
My Mom Answers Student E-mails
Okay, not just yet, but perhaps appearing in this space soon, because I have decided that, from now on, I will be forwarding all correspondence from my students addressed to "Mrs. Notorious" to the only person I know who goes by that name: my mom.
It should be interesting to see what she makes of it.
It should be interesting to see what she makes of it.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
The House Always Wins
So. This guy wants to know why women are so unhappy, why they're getting unhappier over time, and why they get less happy as they get older.
He presents the quandary: "Wherever researchers have been able to collect reliable data on happiness, the finding is always the same: greater educational, political, and employment opportunities have corresponded to decreases in life happiness for women, as compared to men."
He promises to tell us next week why this is. I'm worried about what the above statement portends. But I've actually got an answer of my own worked up, one that explains both the "decrease over time" and the "decrease with age" phenomenon. It's one that goes back to a grad school seminar on, believe it or not, revolts and revolutions in early modern Europe. In that seminar, we were introduced to some historian's theory of the "J-curve." I have only the haziest recollections, so someone else can fill me in, for certain. But here's what I remember. According to this historian, revolutions don't happen when things have been bad for a long, long time. By that time, people are used to it. Rather, they happen when there have been consistent improvements followed by a change for the worse, or expectations of improvements that suddenly fail to materialize. Imagine an upside-down letter J. Get it?
Now, imagine that women's** expectations of the limitless possibilities for their lives are thrown into contrast (a contrast that gets sharper as women age) with the realization that, in spite of (or perhaps because of?) all this, we're still expected to spend enormous amounts of our energy trying to be something we’re not: pretty, thin, young, compliant, non-swearing, perfectly-groomed, dependent, dumb, nurturing, self-sacrificing, quiet-voiced, unconditionally adoring, nonthreatening, patient, or simply never, ever angry. In other words: “feminine.” And the older we get, the more we realize that the house always wins in the end.
Yeah. I suppose that could make a woman a bit unhappy.
UPDATE: Rootlesscosmo provides a link in the comments to a site that exposes how the "problem" of women's unhappiness (often implicitly blamed on feminism) is based on dubious statistics, but keeps getting recycled every few years anyway. Kind of reminds me of that whole "you'll never get married after 35" thing. I'm now convinced that the premises upon which the question is based are specious, but still stand by my answer to this non-question -- if that's not too illogical.
**In light of the content of this post, I am bitterly amused that Blogger does not recognize the word "women's."
He presents the quandary: "Wherever researchers have been able to collect reliable data on happiness, the finding is always the same: greater educational, political, and employment opportunities have corresponded to decreases in life happiness for women, as compared to men."
He promises to tell us next week why this is. I'm worried about what the above statement portends. But I've actually got an answer of my own worked up, one that explains both the "decrease over time" and the "decrease with age" phenomenon. It's one that goes back to a grad school seminar on, believe it or not, revolts and revolutions in early modern Europe. In that seminar, we were introduced to some historian's theory of the "J-curve." I have only the haziest recollections, so someone else can fill me in, for certain. But here's what I remember. According to this historian, revolutions don't happen when things have been bad for a long, long time. By that time, people are used to it. Rather, they happen when there have been consistent improvements followed by a change for the worse, or expectations of improvements that suddenly fail to materialize. Imagine an upside-down letter J. Get it?
Now, imagine that women's** expectations of the limitless possibilities for their lives are thrown into contrast (a contrast that gets sharper as women age) with the realization that, in spite of (or perhaps because of?) all this, we're still expected to spend enormous amounts of our energy trying to be something we’re not: pretty, thin, young, compliant, non-swearing, perfectly-groomed, dependent, dumb, nurturing, self-sacrificing, quiet-voiced, unconditionally adoring, nonthreatening, patient, or simply never, ever angry. In other words: “feminine.” And the older we get, the more we realize that the house always wins in the end.
Yeah. I suppose that could make a woman a bit unhappy.
UPDATE: Rootlesscosmo provides a link in the comments to a site that exposes how the "problem" of women's unhappiness (often implicitly blamed on feminism) is based on dubious statistics, but keeps getting recycled every few years anyway. Kind of reminds me of that whole "you'll never get married after 35" thing. I'm now convinced that the premises upon which the question is based are specious, but still stand by my answer to this non-question -- if that's not too illogical.
**In light of the content of this post, I am bitterly amused that Blogger does not recognize the word "women's."
Saturday, September 19, 2009
How the hell did I manage to do THAT?
In the last 13 days, I have written a draft of an article, from start to finish.
There are caveats to be had, of course. First caveat: it's based on material from the book. This essay is supposed to be a more condensed version of the most innovative parts of that book's argument, but also with a broader geographic and chronological scope, so there's work to be done. Still, it's mostly familiar ground, not at all like starting from scratch.
Second caveat: it is indeed a Shitty First Draft, lacking introduction and conclusion, and replete with square brackets saying things like "[300 words here on topic X; see professor B's book, pp 67 => ??]" and "[get info on country Y -- check authors Q & Z]", and also, more than once, "[rewrite this para. to avoid self-plagiarism]".
But, wow! I wrote 7,000 words in 13 days, working no more than 2 hours a day. I wouldn't believe it if the evidence weren't sitting right here in front of me.
There's still a long road to go before I can show this to anyone, much less until it's truly finished. But this is seriously encouraging.
There are caveats to be had, of course. First caveat: it's based on material from the book. This essay is supposed to be a more condensed version of the most innovative parts of that book's argument, but also with a broader geographic and chronological scope, so there's work to be done. Still, it's mostly familiar ground, not at all like starting from scratch.
Second caveat: it is indeed a Shitty First Draft, lacking introduction and conclusion, and replete with square brackets saying things like "[300 words here on topic X; see professor B's book, pp 67 => ??]" and "[get info on country Y -- check authors Q & Z]", and also, more than once, "[rewrite this para. to avoid self-plagiarism]".
But, wow! I wrote 7,000 words in 13 days, working no more than 2 hours a day. I wouldn't believe it if the evidence weren't sitting right here in front of me.
There's still a long road to go before I can show this to anyone, much less until it's truly finished. But this is seriously encouraging.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Why We Write
(or "Writing in a Time of Crisis")
So, I hinted at the end of the previous post that I would share my thoughts as to why, precisely now, I've decided that it's Time To Write (and by extension, publish, one hopes). I think that people have been guessing that it's because I'm lining myself up for some juicy job. I'm not. Trust me: the number of TT jobs in the field of Medieval Stuff this year can almost be counted on one hand, and most of the ones that do exist aren't that interesting to me. So let's stop the wild speculation right there.
It's also not because I've got some fabulous new thing I'm working on. My main project this semester is an essay that I was invited to submit for a volume, based on stuff I've already done. Except for a conference paper, Shiny New Project is on the back burner this semester.
It's also not because I'm just one of those people who loves the act of writing, and churns out publications at breakneck pace. In fact, writing has always been like pulling teeth for me,** and I've always considered my productivity to be a bit on the low side.
I write because of my university's financial crisis.
I write because the other two components of my job, teaching and service, are becoming increasingly corporatized: our teaching mandates are more concerned with time-to-degree, "outcomes assessment" and job training than with actual education, and because "service" here is every year less about contact with students, and more about going to long meetings run top-down by people who speak entirely in verbs-made-from-nouns and acronyms, and devising rules to preemptively avoid imaginary lawsuits. In both cases, we are driven by budget imperatives, and decisions made by people who don't teach, don't research, and think that professors are a lazy, whiny lot. These opinions about who I am, what I do, and what I'm worth are intensely demoralizing. Writing reminds me that these people are dead wrong.
I write because it is the one part of my job entirely in my control.*** I don't do it for any dean, provost, or state legislator. I don't pick my topic based on what will put butts in the chairs. I write because I need that daily reminder of why I fell in love with the study of Medieval Stuff in the first place: if I cease to care, then how can I expect my students to care? I write because I need to feel like a part of a scholarly community beyond Urban University, where everyone is hunkered down, waiting for the next blow. I write because I'm still an idealist who believes in learning for its own sake, and knows that losing that belief will turn me into an awful teacher. I write because, if I don't write, I'll become one of those embittered proffies who inhabit the halls of every department at institutions like mine**** across the country, doing the bare minimum of teaching because they don't care anymore, doing no writing because no one else around them cares, and spending most of their time either starting (or continuing) minute turf battles, giving the same lectures, readings, and scan-tron tests year after year, and terrorizing their junior colleagues. I remember those old men from my first two years here,***** and I wondered how they got that way. Now I see how it could happen. But I don't want it to happen to me.
I write, in short, because writing allows me to maintain my optimism about my job as a whole, in the face of increasing obstacles. The greater those obstacles become, the more I need writing to maintain my enthusiasm for both teaching and learning. Cutbacks in support and increases in teaching load are making it more difficult to research and write, rather than less. Writing is my way of pushing back.
The leaders of my university, my state, and my country are having a hard time figuring a way out of the current crisis. Writing is my way out.
**I like having written, and revising and fine-tuning my writing can be satisfying. But those first drafts? Ugh.
***Not to be confused with "publication of my writing," which is out of my control.
****I'm not arguing that all 4-4 profs are bitter and checked-out. I'm writing from the soon-to-be-4-4 perspective myself, and this post is meant to encourage people like myself to make choices that can keep that from happening. A teaching-focused institution can allow for just as much individual expression as one that helps you get research done, provided that your teaching is valued, and your autonomy and expertise are respected. And, of course, people teaching 2-2 or less are just as capable of becoming bitter in the way I describe above. But a heavy teaching load that prevents you from doing other things that are more personal (whether it be writing, triathalons, or playing the highland pipes), if combined with a message that the only results that matter are the ones that can be quantified and placed on a spreadsheet, can be fertile ground for problems, and I think this confluence of circumstances is more likely to happen at mega-4-4 institutions like Urban University than at other types of school.
*****Making me even more grateful for current colleagues, whose good humor in the face of collapse makes this whole thing bearable, and a department chair who really does her best to mitigate the worst of the effects.
So, I hinted at the end of the previous post that I would share my thoughts as to why, precisely now, I've decided that it's Time To Write (and by extension, publish, one hopes). I think that people have been guessing that it's because I'm lining myself up for some juicy job. I'm not. Trust me: the number of TT jobs in the field of Medieval Stuff this year can almost be counted on one hand, and most of the ones that do exist aren't that interesting to me. So let's stop the wild speculation right there.
It's also not because I've got some fabulous new thing I'm working on. My main project this semester is an essay that I was invited to submit for a volume, based on stuff I've already done. Except for a conference paper, Shiny New Project is on the back burner this semester.
It's also not because I'm just one of those people who loves the act of writing, and churns out publications at breakneck pace. In fact, writing has always been like pulling teeth for me,** and I've always considered my productivity to be a bit on the low side.
I write because of my university's financial crisis.
I write because the other two components of my job, teaching and service, are becoming increasingly corporatized: our teaching mandates are more concerned with time-to-degree, "outcomes assessment" and job training than with actual education, and because "service" here is every year less about contact with students, and more about going to long meetings run top-down by people who speak entirely in verbs-made-from-nouns and acronyms, and devising rules to preemptively avoid imaginary lawsuits. In both cases, we are driven by budget imperatives, and decisions made by people who don't teach, don't research, and think that professors are a lazy, whiny lot. These opinions about who I am, what I do, and what I'm worth are intensely demoralizing. Writing reminds me that these people are dead wrong.
I write because it is the one part of my job entirely in my control.*** I don't do it for any dean, provost, or state legislator. I don't pick my topic based on what will put butts in the chairs. I write because I need that daily reminder of why I fell in love with the study of Medieval Stuff in the first place: if I cease to care, then how can I expect my students to care? I write because I need to feel like a part of a scholarly community beyond Urban University, where everyone is hunkered down, waiting for the next blow. I write because I'm still an idealist who believes in learning for its own sake, and knows that losing that belief will turn me into an awful teacher. I write because, if I don't write, I'll become one of those embittered proffies who inhabit the halls of every department at institutions like mine**** across the country, doing the bare minimum of teaching because they don't care anymore, doing no writing because no one else around them cares, and spending most of their time either starting (or continuing) minute turf battles, giving the same lectures, readings, and scan-tron tests year after year, and terrorizing their junior colleagues. I remember those old men from my first two years here,***** and I wondered how they got that way. Now I see how it could happen. But I don't want it to happen to me.
I write, in short, because writing allows me to maintain my optimism about my job as a whole, in the face of increasing obstacles. The greater those obstacles become, the more I need writing to maintain my enthusiasm for both teaching and learning. Cutbacks in support and increases in teaching load are making it more difficult to research and write, rather than less. Writing is my way of pushing back.
The leaders of my university, my state, and my country are having a hard time figuring a way out of the current crisis. Writing is my way out.
**I like having written, and revising and fine-tuning my writing can be satisfying. But those first drafts? Ugh.
***Not to be confused with "publication of my writing," which is out of my control.
****I'm not arguing that all 4-4 profs are bitter and checked-out. I'm writing from the soon-to-be-4-4 perspective myself, and this post is meant to encourage people like myself to make choices that can keep that from happening. A teaching-focused institution can allow for just as much individual expression as one that helps you get research done, provided that your teaching is valued, and your autonomy and expertise are respected. And, of course, people teaching 2-2 or less are just as capable of becoming bitter in the way I describe above. But a heavy teaching load that prevents you from doing other things that are more personal (whether it be writing, triathalons, or playing the highland pipes), if combined with a message that the only results that matter are the ones that can be quantified and placed on a spreadsheet, can be fertile ground for problems, and I think this confluence of circumstances is more likely to happen at mega-4-4 institutions like Urban University than at other types of school.
*****Making me even more grateful for current colleagues, whose good humor in the face of collapse makes this whole thing bearable, and a department chair who really does her best to mitigate the worst of the effects.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Still writing every day
...but it's making me tired.
I've cranked out an astounding number of words on my first draft in the past week. Really, I'm amazed. But now, week three of the semester, and the intro stuff in the courses is really over, and I've run out of the "easy" bits in my draft. So I'm wondering how I'm going to keep caught up and maintain the pace.
Fortunate, I suppose, that I hadn't planned on having any social life at all this semester. And I'm hoping that once I've got that first draft under control, the pace will slow a bit -- just in time for grading! But this is going to be one seriously busy semester.
Why am I doing this to myself? There are reasons. More on that in the next post.
TUESDAY MORNING UPDATE: Pushed-back wake-up time another 15 minutes to account for 9:30 class. 590 drafty words (and moderate feeling of accomplishment) by 7:10. Still tired, but coffee is helping.
I've cranked out an astounding number of words on my first draft in the past week. Really, I'm amazed. But now, week three of the semester, and the intro stuff in the courses is really over, and I've run out of the "easy" bits in my draft. So I'm wondering how I'm going to keep caught up and maintain the pace.
Fortunate, I suppose, that I hadn't planned on having any social life at all this semester. And I'm hoping that once I've got that first draft under control, the pace will slow a bit -- just in time for grading! But this is going to be one seriously busy semester.
Why am I doing this to myself? There are reasons. More on that in the next post.
TUESDAY MORNING UPDATE: Pushed-back wake-up time another 15 minutes to account for 9:30 class. 590 drafty words (and moderate feeling of accomplishment) by 7:10. Still tired, but coffee is helping.
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