Addressing website audiences

Gearing up for the fall semester and the job hunt, which means cruising university websites on a regular basis, this illustration seems absolutely appropriate:



It also reminds me of the kinds of things clients have wanted on their opening pages for elearning projects: statements of purpose, information about the genesis of the project, almost-vacuous statements about what this elearning project will do for you. The latter I really doubt as being useful since people will end up on the page because they've been told to, or because they know what advantage it will provide.

At the same time that I take the point the illustration is making, that there's a kind of generic expectation of websites that their first pages will be filled with this kind of fluff. And it makes a certain kind of sense, just like the acknowledgments page is often the first one in a book, but of limited interest to many readers (or the copyright page for that matter).

Besides, how would one fit all of those things in the right-hand circle that people are looking for on to one page? The difference between the right-hand circle and the left, is that the left is written for a generic kind of reader - an ideal one - who doesn't really exist (or if they do, it's only a few individuals who are looking for this information). Actually, as a job seeker, those statements of purpose can be very handy for getting a grip on what the university thinks of itself and what kind of teaching will take place there, so perhaps the information in the left-hand circle really is more useful than the illustration implies.

But the problem with making the information on the right-hand circle the primary page is that it addresses at least three different audiences: staff and faculty of the school, students at the school, and outside parties interested in attending/visiting the school. That's a lot of audiences for one page to address and address effectively.

The way webpages are conventionally set up, there's a large space near the middle, intended to address the audience interested in the page. But when you've got several audiences, which one would you privilege? This is why those primary pages often include navigation that separates users into functions, i.e. "for students" "for alumni" "for faculty" etc. in order to then address that audience and only that audience in that next level of webpage.

So I take the point of the illustration that much of what's on the left-hand side of it is information few are interested in. But given the number of different users of a university website, it seems that such general pages are by default the best use of the first page.

Empty

My house is feeling quite empty these days. It has been moving toward that state for a while, but more so this last week after youngest daughter moved out.

It's odd. I realize that objectively, the house is not really changed since her departure. Yes, she took a couple of small pieces of furniture and her personal items with her. But my sense of the house being empty is more subjective. I realize there are no children in house anymore and they won't be living with me again.

They visit. In fact, two called on Monday to say they wanted to come over, so we had dinner together (the third was out during the day and too tired to come by, or everyone would've been here). That spontaneous get together was nice. But it also reinforced that they are gone. At the end of the night, they both left for their own homes.

Some days I don't notice it. But on others, I feel like a ping pong ball, bouncing around inside the shell of the house.

Archive Fever

"Contemporary culture is increasingly conscious of its own present as the object of a future memory"
Mark Currie, About Time: Narrative, Fiction, and the Philosophy of Time

The Masterworks Meme

The Masterworks Meme, from The Speculative Scotsman via The World in a Satin Bagcharts some of the must reads of a science fiction education. So. In bold, the books I've read. The books I own but haven't yet read are italicised.

NB: Some of the SF Masterworks were released in a line of special hardcovers - denoted by roman numerals - as well as the paperbacks we all own a few of, so there are a few duplicates in the list.

I - Dune - Frank Herbert
II - The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin
III - The Man in the High Castle - Philip K. Dick
IV - The Stars My Destination - Alfred Bester
V - A Canticle for Leibowitz - Walter M. Miller, Jr.

VI - Childhood's End - Arthur C. Clarke

VII - The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress - Robert A. Heinlein

VIII - Ringworld - Larry Niven

IX - The Forever War - Joe Haldeman

X - The Day of the Triffids - John Wyndham

1 - The Forever War - Joe Haldeman

2 - I Am Legend - Richard Matheson

3 - Cities in Flight - James Blish

4 - Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? - Philip K. Dick

5 - The Stars My Destination - Alfred Bester

6 - Babel-17 - Samuel R. Delany

7 - Lord of Light - Roger Zelazny

8 - The Fifth Head of Cerberus - Gene Wolfe

9 - Gateway - Frederik Pohl

10 - The Rediscovery of Man - Cordwainer Smith

11 - Last and First Men - Olaf Stapledon

12 - Earth Abides - George R. Stewart

13 - Martian Time-Slip - Philip K. Dick

14 - The Demolished Man - Alfred Bester

15 - Stand on Zanzibar - John Brunner

16 - The Dispossessed - Ursula K. Le Guin

17 - The Drowned World - J. G. Ballard

18 - The Sirens of Titan - Kurt Vonnegut

19 - Emphyrio - Jack Vance

20 - A Scanner Darkly - Philip K. Dick

21 - Star Maker - Olaf Stapledon

22 - Behold the Man - Michael Moorcock

23 - The Book of Skulls - Robert Silverberg

24 - The Time Machine and The War of the Worlds - H. G. Wells

25 - Flowers for Algernon - Daniel Keyes

26 - Ubik - Philip K. Dick

27 - Timescape - Gregory Benford

28 - More Than Human - Theodore Sturgeon

29 - Man Plus - Frederik Pohl

30 - A Case of Conscience - James Blish

31 - The Centauri Device - M. John Harrison

32 - Dr. Bloodmoney - Philip K. Dick

33 - Non-Stop - Brian Aldiss

34 - The Fountains of Paradise - Arthur C. Clarke

35 - Pavane - Keith Roberts

36 - Now Wait for Last Year - Philip K. Dick

37 - Nova - Samuel R. Delany

38 - The First Men in the Moon - H. G. Wells

39 - The City and the Stars - Arthur C. Clarke

40 - Blood Music - Greg Bear

41 - Jem - Frederik Pohl

42 - Bring the Jubilee - Ward Moore

43 - VALIS - Philip K. Dick

44 - The Lathe of Heaven - Ursula K. Le Guin

45 - The Complete Roderick - John Sladek

46 - Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said - Philip K. Dick

47 - The Invisible Man - H. G. Wells

48 - Grass - Sheri S. Tepper

49 - A Fall of Moondust - Arthur C. Clarke

50 - Eon - Greg Bear

51 - The Shrinking Man - Richard Matheson

52 - The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch - Philip K. Dick

53 - The Dancers at the End of Time - Michael Moorcock

54 - The Space Merchants - Frederik Pohl and Cyril M. Kornbluth

55 - Time Out of Joint - Philip K. Dick

56 - Downward to the Earth - Robert Silverberg

57 - The Simulacra - Philip K. Dick

58 - The Penultimate Truth - Philip K. Dick

59 - Dying Inside - Robert Silverberg

60 - Ringworld - Larry Niven

61 - The Child Garden - Geoff Ryman*

62 - Mission of Gravity - Hal Clement

63 - A Maze of Death - Philip K. Dick

64 - Tau Zero - Poul Anderson

65 - Rendezvous with Rama - Arthur C. Clarke

66 - Life During Wartime - Lucius Shepard

67 - Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang - Kate Wilhelm

68 - Roadside Picnic - Arkady and Boris Strugatsky

69 - Dark Benediction - Walter M. Miller, Jr.

70 - Mockingbird - Walter Tevis

71 - Dune - Frank Herbert

72 - The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress - Robert A. Heinlein

73 - The Man in the High Castle - Philip K. Dick

74 - Inverted World - Christopher Priest

75 - Kurt Vonnegut - Cat's Cradle

76 - H.G. Wells - The Island of Dr. Moreau

77 - Arthur C. Clarke - Childhood's End

78 - H.G. Wells - The Time Machine

79 - Samuel R. Delany - Dhalgren

80 - Brian Aldiss - Helliconia

81 - H.G. Wells - Food of the Gods

82 - Jack Finney - The Body Snatchers

83 - Joanna Russ - The Female Man

84 - M.J. Engh - Arslan

*I'm in the process of reading this one, but just about finished

Since I've begun to read science fiction again, it seemed appropriate to play along and wonder about how many of these I'd read, owned, and have yet to read. Not bad.

Peripatetic estrangement

One of the civilizing effects of travel is often thought to be the exposure to different cultures in order to develop an appreciation for the global and realization that the local is, well, indeed, local, and not the only way to skin a cat, so to speak. Hence, the Grand Tour that the gentrified encouraged their (male) progeny to embark upon before settling down to run their estates, or the updated "year off" or "year abroad" backpacking through Europe that is supposed to perform a similar function for the more nouveau gentrified classes in North America.

I won't argue that time in another country is not valuable. It certainly helps to remind you that there is indeed more than one way of doing things and whether the cultural differences you encounter are only mildly odd or downright baffling in their strangeness, they can be enlightening.

[Having read that last sentence, you'll notice that I used the word "can" rather than "are" since in this age of all-inclusive resorts and whirlwind Europe-in-a-week (complete with tour guide) travel options, one can remain blissfully unaware of those differences if one so desires]

But there's also an estrangement that happens when you return home. I know my parents spoke of the "reverse culture shock" they experienced when we returned from our two year stint in Brasil. Since I was young, I certainly noticed differences (though the things I noticed were no doubt very different than the ones my parents did), but for the most part, there was little "shock" in them.

When we returned from living in the U.S., I certainly noticed cultural differences, particularly in the media and in accents, but even traveling to the Caribbean last year or Europe, there was a moment - when I first got into my own car actually - when I felt estranged from my own culture. Most of that seemed to be centered on the enormous size of our vehicles here, which seemed bloated and bullyish as I navigated streets near my home.

But there's also a sense of a shifting pace that contributes to that estrangement as you move from the pleasure- and transport-centered activities of travel, to the more circumscribed and sedentary activities of work and house maintenance. The vivid everyday activities of the other country are slowly replaced by the mundane and repetitive sameness of the same city, job, and house as you slip back into the ordinary. It's not a bad thing, just a strangely transitional place to be.

Placeholder

First google decided I was some kind of spammer and blocked me out of all my accounts. Then I left for vacation. That's my explanation for the radio silence.

Yes, it's a touch pathetic and pedestrian. But such is life.

More anon.

Editorial snafus... con't

So I've finally gotten through the comments for the one solitary, strident reviewer for the r&r I was talking about a few days ago. I think I've done what's necessary to make him (and the editor) happy, so we're in the final stages.

But then I get an email from a journal editor who tells me *I* will miss the deadline for this year's journal. This is because apparently I was supposed to know that when an email came out in spring with a deadline for submission attached, it was the deadline for the edited version (i.e. after reviewers), not my deadline for submitting it.

So then I get a followup email that finally clarifies it (apparently, I'm not the only submitter who didn't realize the deadline was for the post-edit version when we're still in submission stage). So I hustle my ass to get the paper polished up and sent off. And I did send it off, in the midst of all kinds of other dissertation defense/conference presentation work.

Three weeks after sending it off, I finally get an email from the editor indicating receipt (apparently said editor was not checking email while out of town?!) and that it will be sent to reviewers. I just got an email this week saying, 'like the article, but oops, not enough time to revise before the deadline at the end of the month... perhaps you'd like to wait till next year to submit?'

No, I'd not like to wait till next year. I wanted it on the cv for this year, you know, when I go on the market? What good will it do next year?

I'm really frustrated right now, which is why I haven't crafted a response yet. But I'm seriously considering reworking it for a different journal and sending it out in the hopes of getting it accepted before October when I need to start sending my cv out. It's well placed for this particular journal, but it could be slightly reworked for a different one.

More decisions.

Wading

It's amazing how much can pile up when you haven't filed anything for the last ten months and have produced at least two drafts of a dissertation!

I've spent way more time analyzing the comments than addressing them

I have. I have spent more time... no, correction, probably not more - but far too much... time analyzing the comments on the r&r that is due next month than addressing them.

Part of why I say that is because the described weaknesses of the paper fall into two primary areas, both of which are actually fairly easily addressed by revision of my prose and clarification of what I'm already saying, rather than having to go do additional research or reading to add to the essay. But a bigger part of it is because the comments struck me as so bizarre.

When I opened the file with the comments, my first impression of the summary comments was of someone yelling and jumping up and down, trying desperately to get my attention when everyone within eyesight and earshot knew what was going on. No, honestly, I had the recurrent flash of vision, almost as if I could see it out the corner of my eye, or a leprechaun or midget, fists clenched, veins popping, jumping up and down in the corner, yelling "listen! listen! listen!" Not a word of a lie. It's an image that I'm having real trouble shaking as I continue to work on the comments.

And I've had these comments for two weeks now. This isn't my initial run through. I've read them again and again, trying to get over the tone of the comments to get at the substance.

I think I've gotten to the heart of the substance, and that substance is fair and a good evaluation of the weaknesses of the paper. But the tone of the thing is really, really off.

I've had harsh comments before. One of the professors in my doctoral program was well known for harsh comments on papers, and some of the harshest of those are still remembered and routinely quoted when we convene over drinks. I've also gotten comments on a few publications, including one that rejected the article entirely (which hurts of course). But neither the quotable harshness of that professor or the harsh reality that my writing didn't measure up to the journal's expectations can match the off-putting nature of these comments.

Like I said, the criticisms are legitimate, and I'm finding them useful in shaping the piece into a better essay. But the tone is strident and hyperbolic in its insistence that THIS IS A PROBLEM!

Okay, dude! You don't have to shout. I sent this article in knowing it would be peer reviewed and knowing how peer review works. I send the article, two to three people read it and evaluate its strengths/weaknesses, the editor sends it back to me, I address the weaknesses and then send it back again to the editor with an explanation of how I addressed the reader's comments. This is the way the process works. You don't need to yell at me to get me to listen to the weaknesses - I want to produce quality work that will be accepted as valuable by my peers.

But it's this question of quality work that is now making me wonder if I should not send the article back.

When I submitted to this edited volume, I checked out the editor, who seemed to be doing interesting work at a good school. And the topic of the edited collection was novel and provocative. So I submitted an abstract.

They rushed me to get the full article in, but I made the deadline and then waited. Their own deadlines for review came and went (twice), but I finally got the reviewer's comments at the end of May (the day after my conference presentation - how convenient!)

When I opened the comments, I read through, noting the strident tone, but realizing that those comments might be mitigated by more reasonably-toned second reader comments.

But there were none. I had expected at least two readers, even if they couldn't garner three, but I only got the one reader's comments, which meant that I would now have to rely on my own sense of how to tease apart tone from content, rather than being able to start by finding places where both reviewers had agreed (which is usually a good sign that those are the changes to start with!)

I also started to worry and wonder. First, I worried whether I'd gotten enough feedback to produce a quality product. But I also started to wonder about the one reviewer chosen, since he indicated in two places that he has a) not read the novel the article discusses, and b) is not an expert in the theoretical area that largely governs the reading of that novel. Then as I continued to read, it seemed that the reviewer also didn't have a clear idea of the conventions of the genre under discussion as well.

So I began to wonder: why was this reviewer chosen?

The answer seems to be either proximity or desperation.

See, one of the things about electronic editing, is that Word very nicely labels the comments entered into a document with the name of the registered user of the computer they're created on. In this case, a quick google of the name on the comments turned up a graduate student in American literature at the university where the editor works. A graduate student. Who studies American, not British literature. Whose only conference presentation I could find works in a genre and period that are both very different from mine.

Now do you see why I'm wondering if I should do the r&r?

I'm having doubts for two reasons:
1) I haven't gotten feedback from an expert in the field (or text, or genre) in which I'm writing. That means I'm really relying upon my own sense of the validity of the research. I'm a pretty junior scholar (though not as junior as my reviewer) so I know I can use the help of more senior scholars. My ego's not that big that I don't know my own weaknesses and having someone who has less experience than me give me the only feedback just makes me a wee bit nervous.
2) The editor did not/could not find someone in my field to review the paper, let alone two or three people. Which of course makes me wonder why the editor could find so few reviewers. Was it just a matter of timing? Is mine the odd-man-out and didn't fit well with the reviewers they'd lined up? Is this just sloppy editorial work? Did someone back out of reviewing?

I do realize that although the publication could be listed as peer-reviewed, it is essentially the same as a non-reviewed edited collection. So it's not going to be prestigious or count a lot toward the development of my cv. And it's not like I have a reputation to uphold. But I hope to have one at some point.

Will I be making a fatal mis-step if I let this publication go ahead? Or will the potentially inferior status of the edited collection still look better on my cv than nothing at all?

Decisions, decisions.

Keeping the momentum going

Perhaps I could say something clever about energy and buckballs, which is what this Montreal museum is modeled on, but I don't have anything clever to say.

It was only a few weeks ago, but the trip to Montreal feels like ages ago, probably mostly because it was nice and warm there most of the time while here it's been raining off and on for the month. Rain always seems to make days drag for me.

And that's part of my problem right now in keeping the momentum going - I've got lots of projects on the go, but I'm also finding the days and days of time spent mostly at home in front of my computer really drag the will to work out of me. So I've been resurrecting all those tried and true methods for keeping myself motivated when I'm the only one around. So far they're (mostly) working. Actually, they really only ever work most of the time, so I can't complain.

At the same time, the isolation of working from home is tough to deal with sometimes. Although I can have very productive days, at other times, I feel restless and uninspired in ways that don't seem to happen as often when I'm at a workplace (even if that's only part time).

My summer will be nicely broken up with one long trip (to the UK) and a few shorter ones planned, so the reward of getting to do fun things on vacation is part of that motivating strategy. But on a rainy day like today when I'm struggling to address a reader's comments on an article that needs to be revised, they seem very far away!

Relativity

I was tooling around the internets because I'm putting off doing any serious work and getting tired of filing papers that need to be filed when I came across something that stopped me for a moment.

A blogger described turning 39 and finally realizing that he/she had reached adulthood.

Hunh??

I realize my biography is a bit unusual, but I felt the full weight of adulthood somewhere in my early twenties when I realized that life was no longer a game, and the things that you did had really long term consequences. I don't mean that I first learned to really regret at that point. But I did realize that you only get one chance at this, and if you piss it away by screwing around with your life, then you have no one but yourself to blame. And then later you will regret that you pissed away your time and energy on things that didn't count (and I don't just mean careers or money; I mean people and relationships too).

To me, that's what realizing you're an adult is about. It's not about managing your own money or having your own place, or buying your first car. But it is about realizing that there's no one else in the world who has the responsibility for what you do. No one to blame or praise but yourself.

It was also in my early twenties that I realized that me screwing up could screw up other people's lives too, because none of us are isolated, even when it seems that we are, and you're responsible for thinking not only about your own life, but the lives of those people you interact with. I don't mean that you have to worry about what kind of day the grocery clerk is having. But you do have to consider how your actions will affect your family members, friends, or even your coworkers.

I'm not talking altruistic sacrifice. Just an awareness that every action you take has a ripple effect in the world. Some of those ripples are small, but some can cause effects that you can't possibly anticipate. So you want to make the right choices and making the right choices includes considering that you're not the only person who those choices will affect. Sometimes the best choice will hurt other people. That's to be expected at times. But like in many other things, awareness seems to me to be an important feature of decision making. You make the tough choices, but make them as fully aware of the consequences as you can.

So I was surprised that someone who has been around for several decades already felt the revelation of adulthood at 39. And now I'm curious. What does his/her biography look like that we might come to the same understanding at such radically different ages in our lives?

Maybe I just misunderstood. Maybe the revelation of adulthood was something that I have yet to understand. Maybe I've just been playing at adulthood all along and I'm a little slow on the game and will reach the same stage soon (hopefully). Perhaps my understanding of adulthood is different or not quite complete and I haven't really "got" it yet.

But this little story also made me realize how very different life is for every one of us. It reminded me that my story is not yours; and yours is not mine. And if I'm going to understand your story, I need to listen to it without trying to impose mine on it. Food for thought.

Anyone up for a bonfire?

I sorted through the drafts, and drafts, and drafts! of the dissertation today. Now I have a big pile of paper that I can either recycle or burn.

Good thing we just reworked our patio and firepit. If you bring the marshmallows, I have the fuel!

Two forward, one back... or is it one forward and two back?

Alien on a street corner. Yup, that feels about right these days.

To say that things feel weird since the defense would be accurate and yet doesn't quite capture what life feels like these days. It's weird as in not normal but not weird as in alien. And that's got me feeling a bit off.

See, when I look at life, I'm doing the same kind of stuff I was doing before the defense. I'm still writing conference papers and planning syllabi (which is usual between-semester activity). But without that big project in the background, I feel a bit directionless.

I know, I know. Everyone says how lucky and nice it is to have the luxury of not having that big project hanging over my head. And I should be happy that I have time to figure out what I want to do in the next big project.

It should be a luxurious time to just read whatever I want and think about what kinds of things I'd like to do next. But it hasn't felt like that, and I think I finally figured out why today. I packed up my work office this afternoon - in the move from f/t back to p/t, I'll have to move from a solo to a shared office. That left me a little down - nothing serious - just a little sad at what feels like a step backwards.

And I think that's why I've felt so rudderless after the defense. I finish this big huge project, and what happens? I move a step back. The first thing after the defense and I'm sliding two steps back instead of moving forward. And that makes me wonder if that's somehow indicative of the kind of progress (or lack thereof) that I'll make now that I'm on my own.

I mean, I don't really wonder. But it does seem terribly ironic that I work fulltime and defend in one year, then the best I can manage is a part time position and no idea what project I want to undertake next. When you put it that way, it sure feels like a seismic shift, a sliding backward, that I don't really believe is a portent of things to come. But somewhere in my guts, there's an uneasy feeling of discomfort with the situation. That's not making me happy.

Of course, all this rain isn't helping either - it's June for crying out loud! Where's the sun?

Why does it have to be this way?

So the conference paper is mostly written. It needs some tweaking because it's probably 2-3 minutes too long, and I don't doubt that there are some sentences that I'll discover are awkward once I read them aloud.

But it was so hard to get it put together!

I knew what I wanted to say, and as I indicated before, it was actually easier than what I thought I was trying to argue, but it still was a struggle to get it together. I had a terrible time forcing myself to work through the material.

So even though it's done and that's good, I ask you, why does it have to be so hard??

Well now I'm just confused

So the conference paper went well and I had time to do some additional revision work on an article that I sent off to a new publication source. Let's hope they're either interested, or at least send back some useful reviewers reports. The confusion I'm experiencing isn't related to the work completed, but to what's to come.

So the conference paper and revision week were last week where I 1) presented the conference paper, 2) revised an article and sent it out before the deadline for the special topic issue, and 3) drafted a conference paper proposal.

As I indicated in the first paragraph, the first two tasks were accomplished in reasonable style and timeliness. The third - the conference paper proposal - was slow in coming together and I was struggling with the wording really badly the one evening while I was there.

So instead of struggling through - which is the strategy I tend to first when I encounter trouble with writing - I left the abstract and went to bed. That was a good thing, it turned out. The next morning I awoke to an email invitation to submit to another conference. An invitation! That's kinda cool. Yes, it was an invitation to a conference that my university is hosting, which means they were just looking for someone nearby. But that conversation with one of the members of the department (who happens to be on the conference committee) the other week paid off. When they needed someone to round out a panel, my name came up, all as a direct result of just chatting with someone about the work I was doing.

So I submitted to the home university conference rather than far-away-and-in-a-different-country conference. Which is all kinds of nice.

What I'm confused about though is what happened when I got home.

I knew that I would spend most of June on an R&R (which came via email later on the day of my conference presentation) and on the conference paper for the July conference. But a weird thing happened between my submission of the abstract and getting the time (now) to write it.

See, I thought the paper proposal I'd sent in was about literary representations of nanotechnology. That's what has been in the back of my mind every time I would think of the conference over the last several months. But yesterday I pulled out the actual abstract I sent. It was about autonomy and identity in literary representations of future technologies. Not quite the same.

I can talk about nanotech in this paper if I wish, but given the scope I laid out when I first proposed the paper, there's little to no need to go into any detail about nanotech.

In some ways, this makes the paper an easier one to write because I don't have to do as much reading (and re-reading) as I thought I'd have to.

But I'm having a terrible time adjusting to the new topic. It's thrown me for a bit of a loop, frankly; hence, the confusion. I'm just not sure where to begin. I know I'll find it, but right now, it's just not coming to me.

What I can't figure out is why I was so terribly sure I was going to have to read Feynman and Sargent and a bunch of other stuff on nanotech, when I didn't originally propose that, and what I did propose is a far better topic for me to try to tackle. Odd.

Better than expected, yet weird

The conference paper went over better than I expected it to - I really had expected to be challenged about my work, and although I saw a few puzzled faces, there were also a few smiles, and the questions/comments after were encouraging. One other presenter said he liked my style, which was pretty nice to hear since style is something that I've struggled with developing over the last few years.

It has also been weird being here. I found myself contemplating going to the graduate caucus meeting two days ago, then realized that I was no longer a graduate student. So those concerns, although still important, are not directly my concerns anymore.

That felt weird.

And I still find myself gravitating toward talking to graduate students at meet and greets and those kinds of things. Part of that is because graduate students are usually more open to complete strangers approaching them and they attend these things without having an already built-in network of buddies to hang out with.

It means I meet interesting, new people. But unless we both show up at the same conference a few years in a row, it usually doesn't amount to an ongoing connection. Not that those kinds of professional connections will actually be useful. None of us as grad students (or now as a newly doctored but untenured underemployed sessional) have any power in this game. So connections are comfortable, but their networking power will only emerge several years down the road.

There's a sizeable contingent here from my alma mater, and they are all quite intent on sticking to themselves, which unfortunately means that the people who I know from previous encounters don't seem interested in expanding their circle at this conference. So I find others to talk to.

I've talked to some very interesting people, including an international scholar whose name is the same as a very famous actor and who consequently has even better stories than mine about border crossing guard questions. It's been a productive conference so far and the bigger meet and greet is tonight, so I'm interested in meeting other new people as well.

But it will be nice to get back home again, as always.

End of May RBOC

In the last week:

• three weeks after the defense and I finally feel fairly normal again. Not that this will last long (see bullet #4)
• we doubled the size of our patio this weekend by pulling up part of the lawn and installing flagstones. It happened without any major glitches and looks great! There are a couple of hours of additional work that should still be done, mostly because by Monday I was too sore to keep going, but we've just effectively doubled the usable space, which will be really nice this summer.
• youngest daughter is graduating this week! She's pretty happy with the state of affairs, as are we, though it's really hard to believe that she's going to be finished soon! When did I get this old?
  
• I head off to a conference just after youngest daughter's grad. Due to inattention on my part (I booked the flight during a particularly hectic point in the semester), I am flying red-eye to the east coast a mere 3 hours after the grad banquet. Also, I don't sleep well on planes at all, so it's not going to be a pretty arrival. Luckily, I don't present till the second day, which is better than the time I spent the night on the Toronto airport floor and then presented later that morning. Don't want to do that again!
• the paper that I'm delivering came together unlike any paper I've ever written before. It seemed easy, which of course scares me a bit because I suspect it seemed easy only because it's simple-minded. But I felt like I really knew what I wanted to do and just pulled it all together. There was some flailing as I mentioned before, but it was actually much shorter-lived than usual, and I'm inexplicably impressed with the state of the paper. I guess I'll have to see what audience reaction is like to find out if I indeed nailed it, or missed the boat entirely!

So that's what's going on in our neck of the woods. It'll be nice to see June roll around since April and May have seemed really full of activity!

Flailing

After blogging about my excitement about being a doctor now, I'm mired in a mess of writing that feels just like it did when I wasn't yet a doctor. How's that for a shower of cold water on that delight?

The flailing around in this writing project is a bit urgent. The paper needs to be delivered next Saturday at a conference, and I have several meetings, small projects and travel that have to also happen before then. So I've got a little less than a week to turn that flailing in the muck of this draft (very drafty!) into an elegant swan dive (or perhaps just a dog paddle....) [Yes, the metaphor is breaking down]

The time frame makes me a bit anxious in the way that flailing within a dissertation chapter didn't because the time frames there, even though I set many deadlines, were a bit more flexible.

But the great thing about that long and drawn out process of writing (and completing! hehe) a dissertation is that it taught me that the flailing seems to be a necessary part of the process. (At least, it's necessary for me. Perhaps there are people out there who don't flail/just write, but I'm not one of them.) So I know it won't last. If I keep typing/erasing/retyping, and re-reading, and thinking (usually by wandering around the house muttering to myself), I'll get it pulled together.

Knowing I'll do it doesn't make the discomfort of flailing any easier though....

Still tickling my fancy

It's now been two weeks since I passed the defense and officially became a doctor. It still does not fail to delight me to be reminded of that.

I know it'll get old after a while, but right now, hearing someone call me doctor always puts a smile on my face. Can't help it - I'm just so tickled by the fact that it's finally finished!

What know they of cricket who only cricket know?

wrote the great West Indian Marxist CLR James.