Saying What You Mean without Really Saying It

So I find myself in the position, currently, in two very different situations, in which I need to communicate a particular point of view in such a way that I don't come out and say it point-blank. This is not my strong suit. I'm a pretty direct person, sometimes to my detriment. I'm not much of one for beating around the bush, nor do I particularly like it when people beat around the bush with me. But after some huge missteps during my teens and 20s, I think I've become slightly better at recognizing at least some of the time when I shouldn't just blurt out exactly the thoughts that are in my head.

Situation #1: I'm currently reading a book for which I will need to write a review for Crazy's Specialization Studies. I'm actually pretty excited about this task, as the editor contacted me about the review without me ever having offered my book-reviewing services. As an aside, I've been plowing through the book because, it seems, after years of plowing through academic books and articles, I don't know how to make my way through one at a leisurely pace. This means I have just 1 1/2 chapters left to read, after only having received the book on Thursday and even though my parents were in town this weekend. So here's the thing. I hate the book. Hate. It. But you can't just write a review in which you hate on a book. That's not cool. It's not useful to readers of the review, nor is it necessarily good for one's own as yet not terribly fancy professional stature. Now, I've not done much review writing in my career thus far - just two previous to this, both of which appeared in tiny venues. One book I really enjoyed; one book I felt somewhat mixed about although I did find it incredibly interesting and ultimately useful. (The mixed feeling just had to do with the fact that the style of the book doesn't really fit with the kind of scholarship that I myself do - it didn't have to do with the quality of the book.) This current book I'm reading, though, well, I have some fundamental problems with it. I cannot, however, just say, "don't read this book, for it is boring and stupid." First of all, it occurs to me that not everybody in the whole world would agree that it is boring and stupid. Second, I really want to be fair to the book, even though good reviews to my mind aren't "objective" per se. And so I find myself as I'm reading on the one hand giving myself free reign in my marginalia to write really mean things but on the other hand annotating the book toward the review itself, using language that is more measured and that really engages with this book that I hate (something, incidentally, that the book itself does not do with things it really hates). This is an interesting process, as it's not the way that I read when I'm using a book for my own research. I also wonder how much of my negative feelings about this book come from the fact that it's only the second time I've witnessed my own work cited in a scholarly book and yet the person basically treats my work like shit (though admittedly does put me in the company of people whose work I deeply admire, treating those people like shit, too, so that's sort of awesome). At any rate, I don't want to let that influence the ultimate review that I write to the extent that it calls my authority as a reviewer into question. So, as I read and annotate and think, I find myself in a position where I want to be true to my interpretation of the book while at the same time exercising more... subtlety... than it is my first impulse to do. I find myself trying to say what I mean without coming right out and saying it. This is an interesting exercise.

Situation #2: This one involves negotiating university politics. See, I'm on this committee that has the potential to become a festival of contentiousness. The last time a committee such as this convened, like 15 years ago, it generated all sorts of bad will. There are people who served that last time who still don't speak to one another. For real. The first tasks of this committee involve responding to some questions in writing, and I find myself measuring my words carefully, and presenting my position with what I hope is more diplomacy than I actually feel. To be honest, I feel like one of my responses in particular borrows a lot from Dolores Umbridge's initial speech at Hogwarts when she is hired as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and that is very strange and a little bit troubling, to see oneself as like Umbridge. At the same time, I did avoid reaming somebody out for refering to students as our "clientele," so I suppose that is a victory (albeit a small one).

Whatever the case, these two very different situations are both forcing me to be careful with my words, to think about how to say what I mean without actually coming out and saying what I mean. This obfuscation does not feel comfortable to me, but perhaps it's a good skill to practice. In both cases, I'm thinking it's better both for my ultimate goals as well as for me personally to refrain from just putting it all out there. We'll see, however, whether my attempts will actually work. Because see, this is not my nature. And I really want to say exactly what I mean instead of beating around the bush.

In Which Crazy Contemplates a Next Book

So, it's a funny thing, this idea of a "next" book, as opposed to a "first" book. As recently as the start of this year, I really had no ambitions toward a "next" book. Or rather, I actually felt a real antipathy to the idea of writing a "next" book - haven't I done enough for Jeebus' sake?

This resembles not at all how I felt about turning the dissertation into a book, which I was highly motivated to do. I really don't feel a great compulsion to write a second book, nor do I think doing so or not doing so bears any real relationship to my worth as a professor or scholar or person. With the "first" book, I felt, deeply, that I would suck if I didn't get the thing done. A lot of that had to do with lingering grad school demons about what it means to be a worthwhile person. A lot of it had to do with proving that I was a worthwhile person in spite of the fact that I didn't land at an R1 university for my tenure-track job (and combine with this my desire to be a viable candidate those few times when I sent out applications for other jobs over the past years). But it's interesting, now that I'm post-book, post-tenure, I don't have the same kind of self-worth things bound to my scholarship.

Part of this is because I do have this feeling that I'm done with jumping through hoops. I mean sure, there is that final hoop of going up for full, but even if I never did that, I would still have a job and a professional life. Part of it has to do with finally - after the final tenure decision - coming to grips with everything I've achieved to this point. That's actually something I've been spending a good deal of time processing this spring and summer. Most recently, I've been working on updating my cv, and what is more than clear in doing so, and which probably should have been clear to me before now, is that I have a very respectable profile as a scholar. Period. Not "oh, I'm good enough for this place," or "well, I guess I have a few publications," but rather, no, I'm a respectable scholar by anybody's estimation. I've done good work that has been received well by people whom I respect, and if I just keep a steady pace, I will continue to do good work, not because I've got a gun to my head but just because it is fulfilling to me to do good work. No, I will not publish at the rate that people at research universities publish. No, I may not transform into some kind of superstar (although I'm not willing to give up on that silly possibility yet, even if I don't actually care about it really). But I will continue to have ideas that matter to a small group of people, that continue to make a difference in how I teach literature, and that continue to make a difference in terms of my ability to help my students navigate the field of literary studies, should they choose to navigate this field in their own professional lives.

So I suppose there ends the context of this post.

Where I really began thinking in earnest about a "next" book was with the idea that I really, really want a sabbatical. Sure, it will only be a semester long (for I cannot afford to take a full year at half pay), but I think that a break like that will really go a long way toward rejuvenating me. I feel kind of... out of gas... after the past, oh, 30 years without a break. That's right - I went straight through - from kindergarten through the tenure track - without any time off doing anything else. I mean, sure, I temped in the summers and such things, but I never had sustained time where I wasn't teaching or in school or whatever. I think I'm about due for 6 months away from teaching and service (it would be eight, but I'll need to teach summer school next summer to make a house a reality). And the best way to ensure that I've got a project worthy of a sabbatical in these tough economic times is to design a project that has a book-like weight.

Now, when I ended the spring semester, I wondered whether I might be able to do a sabbatical that would involve multiple journal articles and have that be a substantial project that would get me to full. The problem is that nobody in my department has ever gotten full without a book. Now, let's note, I've got a book. But I'm the only person in my department in the past 20 years (or more - I believe the only person who may have had a book before tenure is my mentor in the department, who, we should note, got tenure in the 1970s) who's ever had a book out before tenure, and going up for full does require only counting those things one does once making associate. The guidelines for full do not stipulate that a book is necessary (either the university-wide or department guidelines) but this is past practice. Now, I should note that "book" is a pretty loose term here in these parts. It could be a textbook. It could be a novel. It could be an essay collection. So it's not like my institution would require me to write a second scholarly book. And I have toyed with the idea of trying my hand at those other types of books. But I keep coming back to the idea of a "next" book, as opposed to a textbook, or a novel, or an essay collection.

Now, why do I keep coming back to a "next" book? First and foremost, probably, it's because I feel like I know how to write a scholarly book now. I feel like I've found my voice as a scholarly writer in literary studies, and I think I understand the scope of such a project. I'm not trying to minimize the hard work that would go into a "next" book, or to ignore the fact that I will encounter new roadblocks in writing one. I have, however, gone through the process of shopping such a book to presses, I've written a book already that is, as far as I can tell, doing decently well for a newly published academic book, I've been through the process of getting copyright permissions, and I've been through the process of refining a scholarly, book-length manuscript. In other words, this is familiar territory. And for me, that is a good thing. Second, I actually do have an idea, and an idea that I think is really interesting. In some respects, it's the flip side of the idea of my first book. My first book was all about analyzing the representation of pleasure (generally), and this next one will be all about (generally) looking at the representation of violence and shame. (Funny aside: I told my mom about this, and her response was, "but that's so dark, Crazy!" When I noted that this was just the flip side of what I'd already done, she said, "but it's so dark! But I guess if you want to do that....")

Here's the thing: I know that nobody else has written about the "next" book idea in quite the way that I plan to. And I do have a plan. Sure, it's rough at this point, but I start with a title and an outline - this is how I start all projects - and so I'm not just meandering through a hodge-podge of ideas. I should also note that who I am as a scholar is that I tend to start where I'm comfortable - with authors whom I've taught or written about previously, and then to throw one new thing into the mix. I do not chart entirely new waters - ever. I build on what I've done before.

This practice has developed in part out of self-preservation: this is how you have new ideas with a 4/4 teaching load. But it also feels very organic to me, and is something that I've "always" done. For example, I wrote my senior thesis on Famous Feminist Woman Author. I then did a master's thesis on Manly Man authors of the same period. I then went on in my dissertation/book to return to Famous Feminist Woman Author (FFWA) and Manly Man Authors that I'd studied extensively in coursework, also of the same period, but different from the Manly Man Authors I worked on in the thesis. So now, I'm going back in another direction, not in terms of my authorial choices so much, but rather in terms of the themes that I want to think about. I'll talk about FFWA (whom I now realize may be the reason I decided to become an English professor and who may really be central to any interesting idea that I have, in spite of my resistance against being categorized as an FFWA scholar), as well as about FFWA2 (the author on whom I started working intensively, and on whom I've published some, since getting this job) and then finally on FFWA3 (whom I've not done any work on nor taught ever, but just totally love). There are also a few others I may or may not throw into the mix. But the point is, I want to explore what lies on the other side of pleasure, and, in particular, where those other things are housed. And the things that I have to say would require me to engage deeply with theory that I haven't paid a whole lot of attention to before now, as well as to see authors whom I love in ways that are challenging to me. This seems like a very exciting project.

And, indeed, this may be why I've chosen this project as opposed to others on which I've might have embarked. I really want to figure out why this idea is interesting to me, and I really want to figure out a way to make it interesting to other people. I also think this idea connects deeply to my teaching and to how my field is transforming in general. Also, and maybe this is most important, I'm excited about undertaking such a project without a committee to direct it. Yes, I need to think about audience and editors and such, but I don't have to worry about this being a "job-seeking document," as my adviser rightly told me my dissertation was. My mentors in grad school made a big deal out of the fact that I could write what I wanted to write after tenure. That the dissertation (the draft of a first book) was about getting a job, not about defining me as a scholar. Well, I feel like that was great advice, and I want to believe that it was true. I want to believe that I can write the book I want now, and now with a first book under my belt, I feel like I might know how to do so.

That's really the exciting thing. You don't get another bite at the apple with a dissertation or a thesis or a seminar paper. You don't get another bite at the apple with an article, even, or at least not in as substantial a way. You do get another bite at a book. You do get to decide things based just on your preferences with a second book. I don't have a committee telling me I shouldn't just write about women, or that I shouldn't write about authors across periods or countries. I get to make those choices, based on the things that are interesting to me now. Yes, I have to be aware of the market for a book, and I have to be aware of how to get publishers intersted in it, but I don't have to be aware of the job market as I conceive the book. I don't have to prove that I can teach x,y,z courses through my book. I can just write a book that matters.

Now, I'll say this about the going up for full business, as it relates to this. I'm going to do my damndest to make sure that my department addresses the question of what is required for full in a more specific way in our handbook. I think this whole, "in the past people write a new book for full" is crap, given the fact that with the current market saturation it's entirely possible that many new faculty might have a book before tenure. I think that we should have criteria that are more clearly flexible, that are outlined, about the kind of achievement that merits full professor. I think that we should state clearly that it can be a scholarly book (a), an equivalent number of journal articles in peer-reviewed venues - like 4-6 - thinking that some of these would be pedagogical pieces (b), a textbook (c) a novel or collection of poetry (d), or editing a collection plus 2-3 articles (e). I think that such specificity would result in greater fairness, and it might encourage more people (and in my department, women) to go up for full professor, which is a huge need, since we do not have a single female full professor at my university, which, in a feminized field like English, is an abomination. (Patriarchal equilibrium much?) Because here's the thing: it's ridiculous at a university like mine to expect two fucking scholarly books for full professor. Whether we're talking about men or women or whatever, but particularly if we're talking about women, who may feel (or experience) the need to write a book just to be secure in getting associate.

In other words, I'm not certain that this new book, this "next" book, will be the thing that I need to get full. In all honesty, I hope that I can work (as a tenured professor) to make sure that it's not the prerequisite for that. I want, if I have other kinds of productivity, for those things to count for full. That's not to say I don't want to write this book: I do. But I want to write this "next" book for me and for people who will care about what I have to say, not for a promotion. That said, I'm not going to use this sabbatical for something that won't get me full, if that makes sense. I care about making full professor, and I want to use what benefits I have wisely toward that goal. I guess what I'm saying is this: I don't think that I should have to write a book at my institution in order to make full professor, given the fact that I have already done. That said, I'm not going to organize my career as if I don't have to do so, given the fact that this is the common past practice. So yes, I'll use my sabbatical for a book project, because it's the best insurance that I've got for getting full most quickly. That said, I'm not going to wait for the book in order to go up for full. Rather, if I think that I've done the equivalent pre-next-book, I want to be in a position where I can go up with a reasonable assurance that I will meet the full professor standard.

So. I'm fairly committed to a "next" book. I think it's a good idea, and I'm excited about the prospect of it. I'm not entirely sure what such a project is going to mean, though I do feel confident I can manage it because I've already achievced a "first" book. At the end of the day, though, I do know that a "next" book isn't me. It's just what I'm thinking about.

Sorry about the Failure to Post

All energy has been diverted to a) grading (sigh) and b) making plans for my second book, which is a necessary prerequisite to working on my application for sabbatical. Stay tuned for a real post about b) coming soon.

Crazy Eyes

I just went to the eye doctor after far too many years because I'd noticed I was holding books closer to me when I would read aloud in class.

I apparently have one farsighted eye and one nearsighted one. No, I'm not kidding.

And, in about a week's time, I shall have these glasses:

The Bombs Bursting in Air

Happy fourth of July one and all!

In my neck of the woods, illegal fireworks are king, and so the kittens and I have battened down the hatches and we will not emerge until the loud booming noises stop. (You think I'm kidding, but seriously: it's like world war three by afternoon.) I have high hopes that I'll finally tackle my closet as well as the boxes of paper that I need to shred.

In other news, my parents are coming to visit next weekend (because of the store, G. can't really leave on holiday weekends) and I think I have my next book project slowly coming together in my mind. More on all of these things when the holiday weekend is over.

Have a happy fourth!

Facebook: Some Positives

So, I've posted a bit about my ambivalence about Facebook. It's a time suck. You end up becoming "friends" with a lot of people who you never really liked very much in the first place (I'm thinking the random people from high school who I only vaguely remember) or people with whom you don't need to be facebook friends because you are real life friends with them. You can, if you allow yourself to do so, come to feel like a loser either because your status is not as interesting as your facebook friends', or, conversely, because your facebook friends' statuses are deeply lame, and if you're "friends" with these people, then you must be lame, too.

But over the past few weeks, I'm coming to see that Fb has its benefits. I've gotten back in touch with family (esp. my dad's side of the family). I've been found by my three best friends from kindergarten. I'm able to keep in touch with grad school friends more easily, as well as with former students of mine.

But the best part? I've got a friend from high school who works in the wine industry and lives in Napa Valley. And because Fb is so impersonal, it has turned me into the sort of person who has no qualms about inviting myself for a visit! At any rate, Crazy shall be going to wine country over her spring break! Huzzah!

Shaping Up to Be a Wonderful Day

Dr. Crazy's own Personal-Style Laptop was not dead! It has been revived by a colleague (whom I actually met through this here blog, which just goes to show you that it pays to reveal the real life identity upon occasion!) who deserves all manner of praise!

One of My Best Qualities: Ability to Meet (Ish) Deadlines!

So, the collection article is sent off! Hooray! I'm sure that I will need to do things to it in the coming months (for the road to publication is long and winding, and done is never done until something appears), but I sent the thing off! I am so pleased with myself! This means that I can return all of my overdue ILL books!

You know, I've written about research and publication a fair bit, but you know what I don't acknowledge enough? That one of the reasons that I have as strong a publication record as I do is that I'm good with deadlines. Now, without a deadline, I don't accomplish very much at all. Let's be real about that, first of all. But once I've got a deadline in place (whether real, as this one was, or perceived, as when a journal invites one to submit something based on a conference paper with an open-ended deadline, but clearly you need to submit it soon-ish so that they don't look at it like it's from outer space when it arrives three years later) I am very motivated to get the thing done. I can credit my humble beginnings writing for my high school and college newspapers for this, I think. See, for me, once I've got a deadline, there is just no option of not getting the thing done. And since I know that I don't do diddly squat without a deadline, I tend to put myself in positions where I've got them. And I don't really think this is a chicken and egg thing for me - I think that without deadlines I don't actually have ideas. Or not ones that I pursue anyway. I am not a person who keeps up with the scholarship in my field without it relating to something I'm working on, and I'm not a person who just has great ideas that I pursue without an end (publication) in sight. I think the deadline comes before the research for me. This may be why I've never been so stellar with the sending stuff out cold to journals or whatever.

But at any rate, I think this quality has made a huge difference for me in terms of racking up the publication lines on my cv (for publications big and small) in part because now I've developed a reputation as a person who gets things in by a deadline. When you do that, people then ask you to do more stuff because they know that they'll get the stuff from you when they need it. Or they tell other people that they should ask you to do stuff for the same reason. It's really quite something. But I suppose it also helps that deadlines don't freeze me up - rather, they actually make it possible for me to produce things. In part because I can't stand the thought of blowing off a deadline, and so that stops me from hemming and hawing (the initial part of my creative process) and gets me actually working. The ability to meet deadlines isn't a very fancy quality to have, but it is a very useful one.

See, the deadline for the essay was actually yesterday. And when I was unceremoniously awakened this morning by some idiot who was blasting country music below my window at 5:30 in the freaking morning (Loading the car for a holiday weekend jaunt? Just a jerk?), I felt a burning desire to finish the article. Well, after I thought better of my burning desire to yell expletives out the window at that person. Because I knew I didn't get it in by last night, and it was KILLING me. So, now the thing is done, and my editor was pleased to receive it, and sure, there've got to be things that could be better about it, but whatever. No point in drawing out the agony of this stage of things, when I'm sure my editor will have suggestions that I'll have to deal with later anyway.

I suspect that one of the challenges for me post-tenure will be to maintain deadlines for myself. Because the thing about the tenure-track pre-tenure is that Going Up is like it's own Huge Deadline. I'm sure that's the only reason why I got my book proposal circulated when I did, even though there technically wasn't a deadline for that. Now, no more Huge Deadline. I mean, you can really go up for full whenever you like, right? In theory the soonest I could do it would be after five or six years, but that's not a deadline really - just the point at which the window opens. I suppose I do have the deadline for sabbatical applications to start me off this year, but realistically, after that? I don't have any institution-specific deadline for like another 7 years (when I'd be eligible to apply for another sabbatical). That said, maybe I don't need to worry about this because I had no deadlines for anything this year, and all of a sudden they materialized before me, spurring me on to ever greater research productivity over the past couple of months.

Eh, whatever. For now, I am just going to bask in my conscientiousness, have some lunch, and take a shower. Life is good!

Writing, Because There's No Time Like the Last Minute

So, I'm working on polishing the invited collection article, and I have been doing so since about 5:30 AM. On the one hand, it's going fairly smoothly. On the other, god, why is this end part of things such slow going? I've been dealing with the works cited, primarily, which has been kind of annoying because I've somehow lost MLA style from my brain because my last however many projects were in various versions of Chicago. (I know, I know, use bibliographic software, but I don't trust it, really, because it always seems to fuck things up, and I'm using a lot of weird sources, and I don't tend to be very good about keeping all of my sources in my refworks anyway. I suspect that I will cross the bridge of really using the stuff when I write my next book. For indeed, I'm thinking that I'm going to start a next book project with my sabbatical. But then maybe not. I don't know. I've been doing a lot of background thinking about it, but I haven't really solidified my thoughts yet. I think my primary block about the bibliographic software is that it feels like an extra step, since I take notes longhand.) Anyway, I have high hopes that I'm going to get this final crap knocked out today and that I'll send it off and be done with it.

In other news, I don't really have much other news. I've just been teaching and trying to organize my schedule for the month of July so that I really can take three weeks off when my obligations in July are over. This is going to mean lots of productivity between now and then, though, including drafting 2 versions of a sabbatical application (to help to decide which project I really want to pursue, though I think I am leaning toward another monograph and not toward the textbook idea), working on the catalog copy for our revised major, finishing up odds and ends with research stuff, initial planning stuff (mainly a timeline) for the conference that I'm going to host in the somewhat distant future, stuff for the professional society of which I am president, getting stuff in PDF form and up onto blackboard for my new grad class, cleaning my office at work, and doing my two remaining syllabi. The idea here is that if I do all of this I shall really be able to relax through most of August, and I shall start the new semester in fine form.

I suppose I should be proud of myself that I've done about 2 1/2 solid hours of work already today, but I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and like I'll never get all of my things done. Ah well. I will get all of my things done, and then I won't feel overwhelmed anymore. Annoyingly, I've also got to do some grading today, but I plan to confine that to the hour or two before class starts.

So anyway, that's the boring update from the land of Work.

I Hate When This Happens

So I'm nearly done with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and I learned today, much to my chagrin, that the second book in the trilogy won't appear until the end of the month!!!! NOT. FAIR.

I've not got much else to report. I am a boring blogger. Sigh.