Once upon a time, Dr. Crazy wrote a conference paper on a book that she always loved but had never studied in a classroom setting and on which she had never had the chance to write. This paper then led to another conference paper which then led to an MLA paper which then led to an editor of "the most important scholarly serial" in Dr. Crazy's field, an editor of the serial that "is widely recognized at the journal of record" of that field, to ask Dr. Crazy to allow this Fancy Journal to review the article for publication. This then led to Dr. Crazy writing the full length article and to that article being accepted for publication in that journal, to appear in 2006.
I got an email today asking me for an abstract of my article. Because it really is coming out in the coming months. Yippee!
First of all, I'm very, very excited because I was beginning to think that the article wasn't really accepted and that I'd hallucinated the whole thing, especially because I feel like a fraud in terms of this article a little bit anyway because I did sort of fall into the project without devoting myself to it like my life depended on it (ala my dissertation for which I've received pretty much zero acclaim).
Second of all, I feel like I might be the stupidest person alive because this article, which promises to be very good for my cv and all and of which I really am very proud, has made absolutely no impression on my brain and I don't really remember what it says. I suppose it's normal to forget what one writes, but nevertheless, I'm feeling like a bit of a fool.
So, on this afternoon's agenda are the following:
1. Grading (because I didn't grade at all yesterday).
2. Clean off desk.
3. Eat lunch.
4. Read article so that I can write the abstract.
5. Write the abstract.
6. Review of manuscript for the new edition of the Writing Handbook That Zillions of College Students Are Forced to Buy.
7. Candidate dinner.
Incidentally, I feel like Krapp's Last Tape was a success. Oh yes, they hated it, but I also think that they hated it for really good reasons, which have to do with exactly the conventions that Beckett is pushing up against. I think as we move into Hamlet, which is up next, that the two texts will intersect in really interesting ways. But enough about this - it belongs in my upcoming second installment about intro to lit.
Finally, I should probably note for the benefit of Scrivener that this post constitutes an attempt to be self-affirming without resorting to hating on myself. I realize there is a little of the hating (I cannot escape it) but I'm hoping that this meets Scrivener's Standards for Self-Affirmation. Or, in the words of Stuart Smalley, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me."
6 years ago