Category Archives: Reading

First diary entry of “The Little Prince” who just arrived in Victoria from his far home planet

Academic Writing, Centre for Academic Communication, EAL graduate students, Graduate student writers, International graduate students, Reading, Theatre history, Tutoring, Vocabulary, Writing resources

By Arash Isapour

New Ph.D. student Arash Isapour arrived in Victoria only six months ago.

The moment I received my admission letter from UVic, I experienced a weird feeling of anxiety, which was a combination of happiness and stress. Right off the bat, I can continue my educational career at the Ph.D. level, but at the same time, this Ph.D. fella felt the duty to come to grips with his academic flaws which are gathered under one title: language.

As a Theatre History student, I am aware that everything I’m dealing with is under the shadow of my English language abilities, including academic and literary writing, reading (not just journals or mathematical articles), speaking (not just at parties or for dating but for being a part of the interaction in a methodology class), and listening (not to Roger Waters’ new album but to a fast speaking English professor whose tongue takes you to the 18th century). And by the way, language is not just language, it is considered as a conveyor of culture.

As you can see, during my first days at UVic, I encountered all the aforementioned challenges at the same time with not even an epsilon of exaggeration. It was not just at the university but everywhere else I went. The neighborhood I am living in looks like a Hobbit village (Oak Bay). Not only were the people smiling at me but also the dogs. In public places, from groceries to banks, from standing at bus stops to sitting in non-stopping buses, people started conversations, and what I gave back was a smile, pretending as if I deeply got what they said, but I did not. The interesting thing was that they were not surprised by seeing me speak like a Martian, in other words like E.T. So, unexpectedly, I saw myself plunged into all these states. My first class was a methodology course in which the sweet, energetic professor wanted us to read books and essays by critical thinkers from Frye to Nietzsche, from Freud to Kristeva, from Hegel to Marx (my beloved), from McLuhan to Fredric Jameson (The reader killer, even for English speaking folks). I not only had to read and grasp all these frameworks but also had to discuss my opinions on them in class, each session. For the first days, the phrase “HOLY SMOKES” kept playing in my mind. I started recording the prof’s voice in class and tried to talk during class, despite the fact that I knew most of my words would make no damn sense, and those people were really looking at me as if they were saying “What in heaven’s name is he talking about!?” My self-esteem started to tremble as “The Earth Trembles” (My favorite Italian Movie).

In this dilemma, I had to choose either the easy way—let it go to any direction it wants to like the  wind—or the hard and better way—stand still and choose my own path even if it is against the stream. I might still be a successful Ph.D. student in the arts and humanities if I select the first, but I would definitely be a prosperous and industrious scholar from the beginning if I choose the second. In other words, when you find yourself in the uncomfortable zone, you either choose to surrender and pull back or challenge whatever jams you up. The first would be like a boring love story movie, and the second would be like an unpredictable romantic movie, such as “La La Land.”

So what I did was a bunch of silly sounding stuff that works:

  • I asked my sweet landlady to correct me whenever I speak, and she happily accepted to be my home teacher (which is free). And because she is from the 70s, I have learned a lot of nice expressions and am still learning. An example would be what people said when it was the first of May starting with “Hooray, hooray, it’s the first of May . . . . ” As you can see, I am learning a new culture, not just language in a technical way.
  • I carry a notebook with me wherever I go to write down whatever I hear from people in public places, see on the walls, hear from movies, TV series, and everything I need to learn while I’m reading something, from a book to an article, even if it is about my own country’s political and social news.
  • I make ten sentences with the new words to memorize them.
  • I read novels and stories in English that I have always wanted to read but never had time to. Now it has become a constant five-gold-star mandatory pleasure.
  • I go to the Centre for Academic Communication at the McPherson Library and try to learn everything I know about writing based on the papers I write. I share whatever I am confused about the language and ask as many questions as I need to ask, even if they make me look like a dummy, which might be cute.
  • I try not to meet too many people from my own nation, obliging me to speak English in order to keep the dynamic of my training zone. Remember, the more you are in the training zone, the more you improve in your career.

If you keep doing all these in an organized manner, gradually you will see yourself overcoming barriers. And you move to the next level of improvements. Yeah! It is exactly like a video game. But keep it steady and be patient. Some of these things are not new; you just have to deal with your daily jobs (e.g., reading news, watching movies, going out with friends), but you ought to use only the secondary language for all of these, except in one case: when you are speaking with your parents.

Arash Isapour arrived in Victoria in January 2017 from Tehran. He is a PhD student at UVic’s Phoenix Theatre. Besides being literature-crazy, he is a film buff, in other words a walking movie database.  

Comma chameleon: Transforming punctuation and grammar in your writing

Academic Writing, Centre for Academic Communication, Editors and editing, Graduate student writers, Grammar and punctuation, Posts by Gillian, Reading, Tutoring, Writing resources

By Gillian Saunders

It wasn’t so long ago when I found out that I didn’t really know how to use a comma. I mean, I knew how, but I didn’t really, really know. I could put them in the right place about 95% of the time, but not explain why I was adding them or choosing not to. Sound familiar?

I wasn’t a poor writer, making word salad with a careless handful of commas tossed in; I’d been admitted to a graduate program in English Language and Literature. And I didn’t know how to begin to fix this problem. At this point, the finer points of punctuation seemed mysterious and probably unlearnable.

As an English as an Additional Language Specialist at UVic’s Centre for Academic Communication and as an instructor, I meet a lot of students experiencing this same frustration. Writers who learned English as an additional language may be at an advantage: for the most part, they have been “taught” a lot of what they need to know to be able to master the use of commas and other fun and useful things like colons and semicolons with relative ease. In order to know whether you need a comma in any given situation, you need a functional range of metalanguage: relative clause, dependent clause, conjunctive adverb, etc. Native English speakers under a certain age, however, were mostly just told to throw a comma in when they “felt like they needed a pause,” which, unfortunately, isn’t a real rule of comma usage. As adults pursuing graduate degrees, not having been taught real rules isn’t doing us any good now. In fact, it’s kind of embarrassing.

“What am I supposed to do about it now?” you might be wondering. Here’s the abridged version of how I’ve filled my own vacancies in the punctuation and grammar puzzle: first and foremost, my education is in a very reading- and writing-heavy field. I studied writing and linguistics with some very inspiring and knowledgeable instructors, and then I started teaching grammar and composition myself. At that point, I had to learn everything there was to know, or else risk being shown up by students who had mastered not only their own first languages, but mine as well, and better than I had. I completed a Certificate in Editing by distance. I read books like Michael Swan’s Practical English Usage, Strunk and White’s classic The Elements of Style, and everything by Kate Turabian and Diana Hacker. I Googled. A lot. “Which vs. that?” “What is an appositive?” I tugged at the knots of obscure grammar forum threads until I was satisfied that I could explain when and why you need a comma before “such as.” I started reading my work, and the work I edited, aloud, with verbalized punctuation: “The semicolon has two main uses COLON it separates long items in a list COMMA which may also contain commas COMMA and it joins two independent clauses that are closely related PERIOD.” I questioned my identity as a writer, as a native English speaker, and in other areas of my life. Had I also been singing the wrong words to my favourite songs at the top of my lungs in the car all along? (I had.)

Learning the “right way” to use punctuation (and the correct lyrics to all my favourite 80s and 90s songs) clearly took time and the kind of dedication that may not be available to you when your literature review is due next week. Thankfully, there are other options available. First, get a diagnosis from someone who knows a lot about these things. Maybe you’re guilty of conjunctive adverb abuse because you’ve got them confused with subordinating conjunctions. Maybe you’ve never thought about restrictive and non-restrictive clauses. Half the battle is just knowing what to Google.

It may seem painful at first, but picture yourself at some point in the future when it pays off: your perfectly punctuated cover letter just got you your dream job. You didn’t have to hire an editor before you submitted your article for publication. You’ve met the girl of your dreams online; her profile said she only dated people who texted with correct punctuation, and she really meant it. Good punctuation matters to a lot of people, more than you might think, but at the end of the day it’s up to you how accurate you need your writing to be and how much you are prepared to invest in your writing practice. Like doing yoga or learning how to knit a sweater, it takes time and dedication to develop the skills and ability you need in order to have a practice you’re satisfied with. A good practice requires a good instructor that you trust, clear instructions, the ability to detect errors, the skills to be able to fix them, the confidence to take risks, and the humility to ask for help when you’re not sure what you’re doing. Who can you ask? The CAC. We’re here to help!

Gillian is an English as an Additional Language Specialist and Business English and Communications instructor at UVic, and has taught in Canada and South Korea. In her spare time she can be found reading about grammar and English language teaching and patting herself on the back for not pointing out every single writing error she encounters during her day.

 

 

Hidden gems: A conversation about writing with Dr. Anne Bruce

Academic Writing, Centre for Academic Communication, Creative writing, Dissertation writing, Faculty member, Feedback, Graduate student writers, Outlines, Productivity, Reading, School of Nursing, Tutoring, Voice, Writing process, , ,
Dr. Anne Bruce

By Madeline Walker

Late one Friday afternoon in January, I sat across from Anne in the Bibliocafé to talk about writing. The metal gates were being drawn around the food counter, and most seats were empty as students went off to their week-end activities.  In her role as the Associate Director of Graduate Education at UVic’s School of Nursing, Anne meets with many graduate students struggling with writing their theses and dissertations. The first thing I asked Anne was, “How can students be effective writers?”

Anne was quick to respond: “Write a lot. Engage in conversation with what you are reading—make notes, be in conversation with the author.” Anne recommended that students engage in note-taking at every stage of the dissertation.  Take notes during your coursework, your research, your data analysis.  “Very soon,” she said, “you will start to make connections.  The analytic process is fostered through organizing one’s thoughts through writing.”

Note-taking, Anne suggests, can also be in the form of a reflective journal, a vehicle that gives you “permission to be footloose and fancy free. Especially when doing research. You can include everything. Include whatever’s happening, the feeling of being blocked, the emotional experience of writing, the personal—everything—follow all lines of thought.”  Anne’s eyes lit up when she remembered how an entry she made in her reflective journal while on vacation led to musing about the verb “to vacate,” an observation that ended up in her dissertation.  “You never know what gems will come up,” Anne smiled.

This talk of gems got us onto the topic of voice: How do students find their own way of writing?  Anne suggested you be alert to writing that really engages you, writing that evokes a sense of aliveness. “Read to get a sense of what moves you,” she said. “If a writer really speaks to you, acknowledge that—take the writing apart—ask yourself, what is it about the style that is evocative? Don’t mimic the writing, but look at structure and style and make it your own.”

“Who do you like? Who moves you?” I asked.  Anne didn’t skip a beat. “Gary Rolfe writes with passion. I’ve found his voice clear and strong, the confidence.  He has an opinion,” she continued. “His writing borders on polemic, and my tendency is to be temperate, but polemic has its place,” she said with a wry grin.

Engage in note-taking at every stage of dissertation writing.

“Anybody else?” I asked. “Sally Gadow, a poetic philosopher,” Anne replied.  “She gave me permission to write that way. And another writer is Patti Lather—she writes fractured text, visually
‘saying’ what she means.  For example, she embeds boxes in her work that disrupt the writing.”

Anne and I talked about how students can gain inspiration from writers they admire, how they can play with writing, not taking it too seriously.  She reminded me that just as an academic writer’s body of work changes over time, so does the writing of graduate students as they develop their own styles and voices.

We shifted to another topic.  What about writers who struggle with writing and self-expression?  Anne suggests that grad students do an honest self-assessment of their writing, and if they need to learn the basics, then they can set out to learn them. It’s never too late to figure out how to work with an outline, to practice using mind-maps, to learn how to signpost and summarize.  This was the perfect opportunity for me to point out that graduate students can make appointments with tutors at the Centre for Academic Communication to work on any aspect of their communication skills.

Fittingly, my last question for Anne was about finishing; how do students finish a long writing project when they feel stuck?  Her answer was that we need to “acknowledge and work with fear and resistance. It’s part of the process, inherent to a sense of identity. It feels vulnerable to write, but we must find a way to be with it.”

One of the reasons students get stuck is that they get paralyzed by feedback from supervisors and committee members.  Anne had this recommendation: “Try not to take feedback personally, learn from it, and know that you don’t have to accept it, especially comments about style or approach. You can differentiate what is helpful and leave the rest.”  Anne also cautioned about “seeking feedback too early. In writing’s formative stages, things are in process. It’s a messy incubation period, and if you seek feedback from your supervisor too soon, the work can become even messier. You may get advice you don’t want to follow, which complicates your relationships. Instead, find peers who might be helpful, trustworthy, and honest.”

The winter sky turned purple and orange beyond the quad: It was time to part ways.  Anne had to go meet some PhD students at the Grad House and my work day was over.  But before we left each other, Anne added a lovely parting gift: “I know that students, as they build confidence, will write themselves into their dissertations.”

Thank you for the wise and encouraging words, Anne.  May we all trust the writing process.

Dr. Anne Bruce has been with UVic since 2003. Her approaches to research and teaching invite students into (un)speakable and in-between spaces of our professional and personal lives. Her current scholarship includes understanding nurses’ experiences with medical assistance in dying and integrating contemplative approaches into teaching and learning. She believes education can inspire, transform, and generate life-long friendships.​

 

 

A few tips to help with the writing process

Academic Writing, Distractions, Focus strategies, Graduate student writers, Procrastination, procrastination, Productivity, Reading, Slavic studies, Time management, Writing process

By Kate Ehle

I’m assuming that you and I have something in common. It’s probably something to do with writing, and I’ll risk a guess that it’s related to the frustration that can often come with the writing process. Sure, exams are stressful, and graduate school has introduced me to a whole new level of self-scrutiny and subsequent existential drama, but nothing causes me to clench my jaw or neglect to feed myself quite like a long and arduous writing task.

Riding high off a couple of successful papers and nearing the completion of my first thesis chapter, I volunteered to write an article for the newly launched Graduate Student Writers’ Community. I jotted down a few ideas and shifted my attention to other tasks, allowing just enough time for my momentum and conceit to prove that they are, indeed, fleeting. I sat down at my desk, reviewed my notes, and was briefly consumed by writer’s block and an acute awareness of other jobs waiting on the backburner. Well, now is the perfect time to test those writing tips that I scribbled down in a bout of apparent overconfidence.

Here’s the first tip: Create a title that is creative, specific, and catchy. The idea is to jumpstart the writing process in a way that is fun and not too challenging, with the desirable side effect of articulating your topic in a fun and creative way. What should naturally follow is the creation of an outline and abstract, and a consultation with your professor to get some feedback.

The scenario outlined above certainly sounds like the best case. But even with my very own writing tips sitting right in front of me, I’ve been finding myself staring at a blank screen, thinking about the lemon cake sitting in the department kitchenette, and wondering if my gut can handle another cup of coffee. Do I even like lemon cake?

It seems the issue at hand begins with an initial stumbling block that opens up a whole plethora of focus-related challenges. In situations like these, what can actually help are immediate, targeted strategies that work to channel your attention and help you feel diligent. A good place to start is by reading a few articles by writers whose style you like, taking a moment to think about how they begin their writing, and using it to inspire your own (thank you, Masha Gessen). Try to stick to this task without interruption for a full 30 minutes. If you just can’t get any words out, ask yourself, “What am I trying to say?” Jot the answer down, regardless of how sloppy, and then refine it. Use a thesaurus whenever you need.

A few paragraphs in and I am already beginning to feel like a wrung-out dishrag. There has got to be more to say on the subject, but it is becoming increasingly difficult to focus and my output is slowly declining in quality. Now is the time to utilize some strategies to help maintain focus.

Generally, sensations that are soothing to the senses are useful. Making tea and drinking it as you read and write can help you to remain focused and in one place for as long as the tea is hot. And, recent research suggests that the polyphenols contained in green tea could contribute to the maintenance of a healthy brain.

The human brain also loves music. Research suggests that there are parts of the brain that respond solely to sounds that we categorize as musical. If you’re one of the lucky people who can read and write while music plays in the background, it is worth taking advantage of that fact. Do you have a couple favourite albums that you like to listen to while reading or writing? Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage has been on heavy rotation in my office these days.

Some people use scents to help focus. Please be considerate of those who may be sensitive to fragrance. I have recently had luck with burning palo santo, a type of wood used in traditional South American ceremonies and medicine, that has been shown to have anti-inflammatory properties. Maybe it helps to relieve the jaw clenching and related neck tension. Regardless, I recommend sticking to techniques that are calming and complementary to your writing environment.

So, what am I trying to say in this blog post? That I finished my writing, and that you can, too. It may be frustrating, but you’ve got some new ideas in your back pocket to help you stay focused. Now get ready to try them out, and go consult some of your favourite writers to get some inspiration.

Also, I checked the expiry date on the lemon cake in the kitchenette and strongly recommend steering clear of it.

Kate Ehle is a second year MA student in Slavic Studies, editor of the Department of Germanic and Slavic Studies’ graduate journal, Verges, and a drummer. She is a strong proponent for music, eating, and writing, as safe and healthy ways for understanding and interacting with people and the world.