Note: In the “Are You Working?” series, a Ph.D. and academic-writing coach answers questions from faculty members and graduate students about scholarly motivation and productivity. This month’s questions arrived via Twitter and Facebook. Read her previous columns here.
Question: I am struggling to write a plenary address that I’m due to give soon, for all the reasons one struggles to write, but also because I am concerned that what I have to say will rankle some of the elder states-people in my field. When my first book came out a few years ago, I temporarily became somewhat known, and while most of the reviews and reactions to my research were positive, a few were absolutely scathing. I can’t help but be nervous that these folks, or people who share their view of me, will be present when I speak. So every time I try to get a sentence written out, all I can think about is what they might say. How can I navigate the (possibly imaginary) haters enough to get this talk written?
Signed,
I’m Not Happy, ‘Cuz Today I Can’t Find Friends in My Head
Dear Whatever the Opposite of Nirvana Is,
At the risk of making your question all about me, let me say, I have been there. Nearly a decade ago now (!), I processed the demise of my own tenure-track dreams by unleashing a torrent of rage and pain into the greater academic universe with my name firmly affixed. For about 10 seconds I was, as one of my dissertation advisers put it, “the most famous Germanist in the world,” though definitely not in a good way.
What resulted was twofold:
- An inflation of my own sense of self in relation to my field, so much so that I literally thought any group of academics my age would immediately recognize my name and want to punch me. This, as you can imagine, was not the case.
- A reactive writing style that basically amounted to a taunting match between me and a handful of randos I regularly encountered on message boards. I used to breathlessly read comments written about me, until I got stress migraines.
Now, Nirvana, I don’t know how much you are inflating the hatred of your perceived enemies in your head. But you are letting your anticipation of further attack block you from writing. Clearly you challenged the elders and were rewarded with some nasty “insights” from a few of them. But the outcome of that moment of scholarly fame was the same for you as it was for me: It left you defensive. So here’s some hard-earned advice from Schuman 2.0 — the mild-mannered academic productivity consultant who beefs with nobody.
First, you can safely assume that even if one or two of your detractors are in the audience of this talk, they will not have the guts to be openly mean to your face. That’s because it’s clear you come with a hefty dose of institutional approval and respect. The added gravitas of being a keynote or plenary speaker means that the Q&A after your talk is unlikely to be as contentious as it might if you were on a routine panel.
So your situation is not quite like it was in my case — when nobody really cared, yet somehow I thought everyone did — but it’s a version of that: Even if people disagree with you or your talk, that disagreement is highly unlikely to be some sort of cataclysmic face-off for them, or you.
Second, you have to figure out how to move past those fears and write. Here is the primary technique that helped me:
- Think of a trusted friend or colleague outside of your household who could assume the persona of a “hater” for long enough to give your talk a “hostile read.”
- Set a date about a week before your talk to submit it to that friend and that friend only.
- Get the “hostile read” and then decide on a passage-by-passage basis what to do with each bone of contention. Should you change your talk to deal directly with it? Double down? Let it be?
- My personal golden ratio is 4-3-3: I rework a talk to deal with about 40 percent of the minefields that my hostile reader has found, double down on about a third, and just shrug off the final third. At best, I improve my talk. At worst, at least I finished it on time.
And on the off chance that your worst fears materialize and one of your detractors decides to challenge you publicly? I find that taking the air out of their outrage balloon works wonders. Simply flash an enormous smile and say: Oh wow, what a great question (this is especially effective if this person’s comment isn’t a question). And then add: I never thought of it that way before. I’ll have to do some thinking on it and get back to you. I promise you they will be left stammering.
Good luck, Nirvana, and remember: The biggest hater in your head will always be you.
Question: I am completely stuck on a lengthy peer-review project. I have to read and respond to about 25 different essays for an edited volume, and it is sucking up my will to live, not to mention any creative energy I had toward my own work. Any ideas?
Signed,
Oof
Oof, indeed. Peer review is a minefield in so many ways — several of my friends have never recovered from a scathing exegesis by a “Reviewer 2” type.
Yet what we often forget to acknowledge is the thankless nature of the peer reviewer’s task. Because it’s one of those largely unpaid obligations that fits vaguely under “service” but also vaguely under “research” — whilst also not really counting for much on your CV in the end — peer reviewers are often not in the greatest mood when they’re doing it. That mood may be reflected strongly in the tenor of the review, which leads to hurt feelings and damaged reputations.
I could spend the rest of this column scorching the peer-review industrial complex, which might make you feel better but won’t actually help. So I will do the next best thing, Oof, which is to offer you a rubric that will save you some time and put you in a friendlier state of mind as you write your reviews.
I’m talking about a rubric (or precis, chart, table) that only you can see, unlike the kind you would share with your students and used to grade their papers. Your peer-review rubric should have four categories on which you will assess each article:
- Cleanliness of writing
- Thesis
- Engagement with the conversation
- Organization
Leave space for notes about each category. Be as vicious as you’d like on your rubric since no authors will see it. You can rephrase your thoughts more diplomatically on the actual review.
Are those four categories the only important aspects of a journal or volume article? No, but they’re enough that your review will be thorough if you can populate those four fields while you read. And basically, that’s what you should do:
- Read the paper once through at a fast pace, without getting bogged down into details or making any comments on it.
- Go through it again carefully. Stop taking notes once you have populated the four fields with something of substance. Then skim the rest (since you’ve already read it once).
- Finally, promise yourself a small prize for every essay you finish assessing, plus a big prize for when you finish the whole lot. (Schuman 2.0 is partial to candy — after all, I might not be fixated on mostly imaginary haters anymore, but I have a few vices I’ve yet to purge.)
