(Bleeps) of Steel

I need to hit the fast-forward button here. While the “back story” is important, I need to be in the here-and-now this week, because this blog is meant to keep me on track in my research. And right now, my research is slapping me about the head, screaming at me like in that commercial where the therapist is a former drill sergeant who has not an ounce of sympathy for his weepy, troubled client. Yes, I am clearly hearing...

“JACKWAGON!”

“Namby-pamby!”

What he means is, “Get on with it already!”

I might take that assault two ways:

(1) Get off the history story and look ahead. Life has turned out to be better than expected - you have a comfortable home, a beautiful family, a loving husband, gainful employment. To boil it down even more: there’s food on the table and a roof overhead. Don’t dwell on the past and, for God’s sake, don’t examine it.

Or (B), Stop procrastinating in your research clarification and finish your dang proposal. You know what you want to explore. Just clear the decks, focus, and get it done. Whatever this process is going to bring, let it come. There is a reason, and the path is leading you there.

I guess it’s both.

I have been trying to get my formal research proposal written since last spring, hoping to push my project ahead so I could graduate in December. Yes, I mean, this December. I even went so far as to draft the proposal, pitching it to my mentor and two readers so that I could get their unofficial buy-in and spend my summer furiously writing the first four chapters of dissertation.

Because the writing will be the easy part (I say naively). It’s the organizing that is the brutal obstacle.

So I pitched. There are three professors to a committee: one mentor and two readers who offer comments and counsel on this lonely road to hell, I mean dissertation. A holy triduum of expert academians hand-picked by me for their individual scholarly attributes that either are a match to my subject matter in some aspect or, besides that, understand where I am taking this topic, can “see” what I see, and are as excited about the possibilities as I am. In other words, they “get” me.

I consider myself to be very fortunate to have reached out to three tremendous professors to explain my vision, and with each one, I received affirmation. So when I sent out my draft proposal, I was riding that high.

One of the three offered suggestions for fleshing out some of the ideas. The second needed further clarification on my approach, but was enthusiastic to continue working on the project as it moves forward.

I reached out to the third committee member. That’s when I got derailed.

My third committee member practically picked apart my proposal line by line, questioning my focus and assailing my narrative writing style as non-scholarly. I had been warned before I started this PhD program that my journalism style would be difficult to transcend. Somehow I had adjusted and adapted for each paper during the coursework portion of the program. Perhaps I had digressed in this pivotal paper-writing moment of proposaling.

(I love it when I can make up words like proposaling and “convo” (see Blog post #3). Blogging is freedom. Dissertation writing is not. I’m clear on the difference.)

I’m thinking I let the story run away with me, forgetting that this particular writing assignment is meant for academia and not the general masses. (I don’t know about you, but other than PhD candidates trying to find their own way, I don’t know anyone who has read someone else’s dissertation for their own personal enjoyment or enlightenment.) In my mind, I am already on to the writing of “The Story of Joyce,” penning the explanations and the anecdotes in the manner that I will eventually be employing when I am writing for the masses.

Besides, I am probably being far too strong in my description of Professor Three’s comments. Honestly, she was absolutely right. I needed to sharpen my focus and rework the proposal. Still, it wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. I had to do what every writer hates to do. I had to chuck it. Crinkle up that proposal like some bad idea and do over.

I hate do overs in writing. In my writing, I always want to think I got it right the first time. Every word is perfect; it is my reader that doesn’t get it.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I didn’t try to save my first shot at the proposal. I kept returning to that document, searching it for ways to inject the suggested “fixes” that would salvage the beginning of my project and move it forward. No matter how much rewriting I did, I could not see clearly past the previous path. I had to muddy up the footprints and put down fresh ones.

I knew in this case I must defer to the experts. My committee members are accomplished, successful, extremely smart individuals. I would be a fool to reject their comments. They have done this before; I have not. And that is a good lesson for all of us. It is hard to get a less-than-perfect review in life. If you get a do-over, take it. That’s part of the learning experience. That is growth.

So what if it means I am slogging along as the new semester approaches with my proposal in pieces. It’s a minor detour, right?