Category Archives: Writing process

Writing to get your ideas heard

Qian Liu

By Qian Liu

Writing is a process of thinking. In the process, ideas are recorded and become important sources for further thinking. Publication is a by-product of this process. Instead of keeping your ideas to yourself, publishing your work is a way to communicate with others and makes the journey of thinking less lonely.  At the very beginning of my Ph.D. program, senior students in our program told me that being a Ph.D. student is very isolating, as you spend too much time in the carrel alone working on something that people do not care about. They said that you may end up spending five years writing a dissertation that only your supervisory committee members will read carefully. This does not discourage me to continue my studies, because I believe that writing a dissertation helps me address the questions that I am always trying to address or know more about. Besides, there are always plenty of opportunities out there to have our ideas heard during the process of dissertation writing.

One good thing about conducting a research study that you are passionate about is that often there are moments when you feel that it is your responsibility as a scholar to get your ideas out both inside and outside academia. Doing research on the impact of law on Chinese women’s choices in marriage and childbearing, I always feel the need to say something when I see any chance to contribute to social and legal changes to benefit women. In 2015, I wrote a commentary for Blogging for Equality when the law’s denial of Chinese single women’s access to freeze their eggs became a hot topic worldwide after a famous 41-year-old Chinese actress and film director announced that she had travelled to the U.S. to freeze her eggs. When feminist activists and lawyers in China put forward a report titled “Single Women’s Reproductive Rights—A Research Report on Policy and Lived Experience” and received media attention worldwide, I published an op-ed for Impact Ethics and argued that an overemphasis on state law’s impact on unmarried women’s childbearing may shift our attention away from some other social norms that are more influential than state law in stopping Chinese women from being single mothers by choice.

“Instead of keeping your ideas to yourself, publishing your work is a way to communicate with others and makes the journey of thinking less lonely.”

I also write journal articles and book chapters, but I have realized that it is more rewarding and enjoyable to write commentaries (also known as “op-eds”). Journal articles and book chapters may contribute to the knowledge in your academic field, while writing op-eds is a better way to disseminate knowledge to the general public and get your ideas out quickly. I remember it took me more than half a year to develop my first major publication for the Asian Journal of Law and Society, with quite a few emails back and forth with the editors. A commentary, however, usually only takes a few days before your ideas are delivered to the public. More importantly, op-eds can be very influential. In August 2017, I received an invitation from BBC World News to comment on Chinese women’s egg freezing issues for their live show. The journalists contacted me because they found my commentaries online when they were looking for a legal expert to speak about this issue. Although I may not be among the most influential scholars in the field of women’s studies and women’s rights, I got this opportunity because of my willingness to share my research outside academia.

I am very grateful to my supervisors Gillian Calder and Maneesha Deckha, as well as the founder of Informed Opinions, Shari Graydon, for always encouraging me to write op-eds about my work. As an international student coming directly from China, I had no experience in writing commentaries for Canadian blogs. Fortunately, my supervisor recommended Informed Opinions to me, and I learned how to write op-eds from this website. The website provides a variety of resources, which includes op-ed elements, engaging openers, editors’ advice, submitting commentary, turning media requests into opportunities, and even building relationships with reporters and columnists. If my experience convinces you to start the very enjoyable journey of blogging, you may find this website helpful to you as a beginner.

You may be wondering whether you, as a graduate student, have the authority to speak to the public about a particular topic. This thought haunted me for a long time. Sometimes, however, somebody just needs to stand out. A message from Shari after my BBC interview reconfirmed the belief that I should get my ideas heard by the public. Shari said, “diverse women’s voices are so necessary to address topics that otherwise get little attention.” Still not sure whether you can write and publish commentaries? As I said before, writing is a process of thinking and publication is the by-product of this process. If you understand writing and publishing in this way, you will find that publishing is simply a way to share your imperfect ideas in order to get some useful comments to help you think.

Qian Liu is a Ph.D. candidate at the Faculty of Law, University of Victoria, Canada. Her research interests include gender and China, legal consciousness, legal pluralism, feminist legal theory, reproductive rights, law and policy implementation in China, and qualitative research. Qian is the recipient of an IDRC Doctoral Research Award from the International Development Research Centre, Canada. She has published in the Asian Journal of Law and Society and the Asian Journal of Women’s Studies. Please direct correspondence to Qian Liu at liuqian@uvic.ca.

 

 

The abstract is “an argument, writ small”

By Madeline Walker

The word abstract is a bit confusing.  When I looked up this word in the dictionary, I found the first definition is for the adjective, to do with “thought rather than matter, or in theory rather than practice; not tangible or concrete.” Thus an abstract concept, such as love, good, or evil, has no physical referent. The noun definition is “a summary of or statement of the contents of a book.” When you write an abstract for an article, thesis, or conference, you are “abstracting” (a rarely used verb form of the word, meaning to extract or pull out) some key bits from the whole. Yet contrary to the adjectival meaning of the word (non-concrete), it’s a good idea not to be too “abstract” when writing your abstract! An abstract abstract is likely to be ineffective because your goal is to deliver a clear picture of your research in your reader’s mind, and abstract language won’t do that. When you have only a few words to say a great deal, you had better be as concrete as possible in order to deliver your purpose to the reader directly.

I am a big fan of Thomson and Kamler’s four-move abstract described in Detox Your Writing: Strategies for Doctoral Researchers (available as an e-book in our library). Their model works well for all types of abstracts, and it can also be used to kick-start your writing. Thomson and Kamler write that the abstract is not a summary—it’s actually an “argument, writ small,” and it must contain your central argument in abstracted form.  You might say, “Well mine is a computer science article—I don’t really have an argument.”  I imagine T & K would respond that any piece of academic writing can be abstracted into an argument. You are trying to persuade the reader that your computer science finding/development/algorithm contributes to the research/makes a difference in some way. And that’s an argument. Here are Thomson and Kamler’s moves; please refer to the chapter “Learning to argue” (pp. 83–106) in Detox Your Writing for more information and samples of ineffective/effective abstracts.

LOCATE: this means placing your paper in the context of the discipline community and the field in general. Larger issues and debates are named and potentially problematized. In naming the location, you are creating a warrant for your contribution and its significance, as well as informing an international community of its relevance outside of its specific place of origin.

FOCUS: this means identifying the particular questions, issues or kinds of problems that your paper will explore, examine and/or investigate.

REPORT: this means outlining the research, sample and/or method of analysis in order to assure readers that your paper is credible and trustworthy, as well as the major findings that are pertinent to the argument to be made.

ARGUE: this means opening out the specific argument through offering an analysis. This will move beyond description and may well include a theorisation in order to explain findings. It may offer speculations, but will always have a point of view and take a stance. It returns to the opening Locate in order to demonstrate the specific contribution that was promised at the outset. (Thomson & Kamler, 2016, p. 92)

The authors encourage you to keep writing and rewriting your abstract throughout the broader writing process; each time, you will  refine it further. Try preparing a draft abstract of your article/thesis, regardless of the stage you are at. You’ll be surprised at how it focuses your writing and cements your motivation.  I’ve had more than one student tell me it worked to get them writing again after a dry spell.

Call for graduate student blog post writers!

A huge thank you to all of our student writers so far this year: Kaveh Tagharobi, Russell Campbell, Kate Ehle, Marta Bashovski, Cindy Quan, Jonathan Faerber, and Arash Isapour.  Your writing resonated with so many of your fellow graduate students. Thank you for taking the time to craft wonderful posts and share your experience.

We need more student writers for the 2017/2018 academic year, so please consider writing for us.  We need students from different disciplines and backgrounds and at various stages of study to volunteer to write for the blog. Your topic can be anything related to academic communication and graduate students; see the guidelines here. If you feel uncertain that your writing skills are sufficient to the task, please make an appointment with me cdrcac@uvic.ca  I’ll be happy to coach you on how to improve your draft until we are both happy with it.  As Peter Elbow says, “Everybody can write.”

Additionally, we need some specific topics covered this year, and perhaps one of these attracts you:

  • The “thesis by publication” or article-based dissertation. This model, popular in the sciences and social sciences, requires that you write three or more “publishable” articles (plus weave them into a whole with intro/conclusion). Although the book-length dissertation is still with us, the article-based version is definitely a trend in our university, and I’d love somebody to write about it. Are you a student who is following this model or considering it?
  • Writing in different disciplines. Perhaps you are writing an interdisciplinary thesis, dissertation, or article and you need to negotiate with supervisors from various faculties. How’s that going for you? We would love to hear from you if you’ve had this experience or you have written in different disciplines (say, you did your MA or MSc in one area and are doing your PhD in a different one).  What have you learned about disciplinary differences in writing?
  • Communicating with your supervisor.  Okay, this may seem elementary, but some of us have struggled for hours to craft communication with supervisors or other professors.  EAL students unfamiliar with the Canadian university context may find this especially difficult. Would you like to write about this challenge and some strategies that have worked for you?

Don’t want to write, but want to read about something in particular? Please email me to suggest a specific blog post topic: cdrcac@uvic.ca.

We are taking a break for August, and the next post will be published in mid-September. Happy summer everybody, and thank you for reading the blog.

 

 

 

Purposeful pauses in writing

By Nancy Ami

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”
– Douglas Adams

Nancy procrastinating with Lucy

A younger me learned to love deadlines, too, but for a different reason. A deadline was the only thing, I mean the only thing, that could force me to draft a piece of writing.

As a top-notch procrastinator who submitted assignments just in time for deadlines, I wondered why I struggled so much to get my thoughts down on a page. Why was drafting so hard? The “linear” process of writing: choosing a topic, generating ideas, planning, drafting, revising and editing – seemed easy enough.  What was it about the drafting – the movement of fingers across keys, translating ideas into text – that made it so painful?

Almost 25 years ago, I attended the 1993 ATESL (Alberta Teachers of English as a Second Language) Conference, eager to learn how I might teach writing better (and how I might write better myself). I attended Ernie Hall’s excellent presentation. He explained the cognitive processes writers engage in. He described the heavy demand these processes place on writers and that these contributed to writers’ frequent pausing.  He outlined the following intricate purposes for which writers pause as they draft: search, plan, evaluate, describe, question, and revise.

  • Search

We search for new ideas and the words to express them.

  • Plan

While we plan before we write, we also plan as we write. We consider order and arrangement of ideas. We plan our next steps as we draft, for in drafting, we gain insight into order and idea development.

  • Evaluate

We pause to judge as we draft. We wonder if it’s good enough. We critically analyze what is on the page before moving on. As a result of a pause to evaluate, we work back through our draft, revising and rewriting what we have already drafted.

  • Question (wonder)

We pause to wonder as we draft. We ask ourselves questions as we write. “How do I know that?” or “Where did I read that?” or “What else do I know?”

  • Revise

We pause to fix. We fix content, organization, word choices, sentence structure, grammar, and spelling. We revise so much that we forget to draft.

  • Decide (proceed without solution)

We pause but decide to proceed, to move on, to continue drafting. We may worry that we might forget the reason we paused. We capture the essence of our struggle, perhaps via track changes: “Add a citation here” or “Find more data for this argument” or we open an additional word document to note issues we face as we draft. We keep drafting, though, trusting a solution to the problem will emerge as we go.

Writers employ strategic pauses, meaningful pauses, necessary pauses when drafting. Writers pause for a reason.  I had always thought that my pauses meant there was something wrong; that I couldn’t write; that I had nothing worthy to say. Now I understand the cognitive processes drafting involves. When drafting, I pause and analyze my pause. I strategically search, plan, evaluate, question, revise, or proceed without solution. Drafting is hard work because it involves constant, relentless monitoring and management.

I still love and need deadlines to get started on my drafts.  However, understanding drafting’s complexity and the intricate decision-making it involves helps me embrace the process, capturing my ideas into text just before the deadlines whoosh by.

As the Manager of the Centre for Academic Communication, Nancy loves working with her CAC team to support UVic writers, collaborating with UVic partners and faculty. As an EAL Specialist, she’s taught international students for 25 years, in both public and private institutions.

 

Why we worry: Writing as therapy

by Jonathan Faerber

photo of author Jonathan Faerber
Jonathan Faerber

Many of us worry about our writing. We are apprehensive about an unfamiliar topic, or we are afraid of what others will think of our work. We anticipate getting things wrong. We exaggerate criticism and fear failure. We are overwhelmed by uncertainty and obsess over details that are outside of our control.

When I worked as a writing tutor and graduate student at UVic, I often lived in denial of these fears.  I like writing, I told myself. I enjoy it. But all too often, I found myself making excuses not to write: I had other work to do, or I needed to finish a few more books before completing a thesis chapter. I struggled to be honest with myself, but these were symptoms of a simple problem: I was terrified of my thesis.

Anxiety like this is a natural emotion. It is characterized by uneasiness, tension, and pessimism. The causes of anxiety are somewhat subjective, but there are some common patterns. Anxiety is often preceded by negative events followed by an expectation of continued difficulty or future disaster.

Fortunately, there are therapeutic activities and treatments for anxiety, and if writing anxiety is a special case of such worry, similar strategies can help writers as well. For example, psychologists often treat anxiety disorders with cognitive behavioural therapy or exposure therapy. CBT involves identifying our negative thoughts and focusing on positive or realistic thinking instead, while exposure therapy is a way to progressively familiarize ourselves with what worries us.

Similarly, it helps to be honest about our writing anxiety and to spend time getting comfortable with the writing process. For example, consider that writing assignment that you dread. Perhaps it is for a demanding instructor or it is on a subject or topic you do not like. Or perhaps the sheer amount of work you still have left is overwhelming. It is all too easy to push these thoughts into the back of our minds and turn to Netflix or Facebook and focus our attention elsewhere.

But this won’t help for long. We can’t ignore what we are afraid of forever. And in my experience, I can’t really forget about writing that I have to do unless I am writing. It was only in this honesty that I’d realize that my worries were often exaggerated.

So the solution here is to write. Of course, this is easier said than done. But it is important to write even when we feel that we cannot or do not want to. The more we write, the less writing will worry us. It does not matter exactly what writing you do, as long as you write. With that in mind, here are three suggestions that helped make my writing experiences more positive—even therapeutic.

First: try to focus on what you can control. We often are so preoccupied with the end product that we will not put pen to paper until we think we have the end product in sight. But that is never how writing works. The only way to know what you will write is to write. Do not obsess over what is outside your control. Do not obsess over the end product before the end. Set yourself achievable goals. Focus on the next step—the one you can complete right now: whether this is one paragraph, or one page, or one section, or one chapter. Either way, the only way to accomplish anything is through incremental steps.  Do what you can. You can’t do what you can’t, so don’t worry in advance about what you haven’t managed yet.

Second: make yourself vulnerable. Let others know what your worries are. Talk to people. Write with people. Share your writing with readers who aren’t grading you. There are many people who can help you and who will read your writing for the sake of helping you. This might be a close friend or a classmate. It might be someone at the Centre for Academic Communication.

Again, we all worry about writing. All the time. You are normal. You are not alone.

But then, there are times where being alone will help. Too often, we think writing is just for school or work, and we are often trained to think we are wasting time unless we are writing for someone or to accomplish something, and then we wind up getting nothing done. So my third suggestion is write things you don’t have to write. Sometimes, these can turn into parts of papers that you have to write. After all, it is hard to like what you write if you don’t like writing it. So remember to make time to write for you. You don’t always have to write. But don’t write only what you have to write. Remember to make time to write for you.

Of course, I cannot guarantee that following this advice will make your anxiety go away, but it might help you diagnose and understand its causes. The good news is that once we better understand our anxiety, we can predict or expect it. We can reduce it. We can manage it. But it may be unrealistic to think that we can eliminate anxiety altogether.

After all, anxiety is a difficult problem. But I think almost any solution to it will involve a conversation. This blog post is my contribution to this conversation and an invitation for you to face up to your worries in your own writing as well.

Jonathan is a UVic alumnus and former tutor at the Centre for Academic Communication. He is currently Writing Centre Associate at Royal Roads University.

 

How to write a dissertation when you’re really busy and love to travel

By Marta Bashovski

It’s the end of April, the end of another academic year, and the beginning of another summer. This can be a tricky time for “senior” PhD students like me. On the one hand, my usual sources of funding and the duties that take up most of my time – teaching, TAing, and tutoring at the CAC – are on hold until the fall. On the other hand, we’re now in the midst of “conference season,” and since defending my dissertation proposal, committing to writing conference papers has been how I’ve found time to write the chapters of my dissertation. The “perks” of attending conferences – travelling to interesting places, catching up with old friends, and seeing new work in my discipline – are not bad either!

What I hope to offer in this post isn’t suggestions for how to approach conference abstracts, networking, papers, or presentations. There are many excellent guides already out there. See here, here, and here, for instance. Instead, I would like to share some reflections on the dissertation writing benefits I’ve found to regularly attending conferences.

Writing to a clear deadline

I need deadlines to be productive. The daily life an ABD PhD student with non-writing duties and commitments often means that writing gets pushed to the bottom of my to-do list. The long-term, amorphous deadlines of a dissertation project also mean that, for better or for worse (usually worse), writing happens very slowly and in tiny chunks. This is where I’ve been able to make strategic use of conference deadlines. Since the conferences I attend have application deadlines six months to a year in advance, I am able to plan when I’ll be forced, by the stress of necessity, to draft a concise version of a dissertation chapter that I can later develop further. The commitment to submit a paper draft and the accountability to a group of colleagues has helped me to prioritize scheduling – and following through on – writing time.

comic from Piled Higher and Deeper
“Piled Higher and Deeper” by Jorge Cham (published with permission)
www.phdcomics.com

Clarifying the project

If your dissertation proposal was anything like mine, you quickly found that your aims were far too broad to make for manageable dissertation chapters. Taking your chapter outlines – and your ambitious plans to cover all of the relevant literature for the questions you address – and making them into conference papers is an excellent way to focus your argument to emphasize only the most important themes. I’ve found that for a typical conference paper, I write about a third to half of what I had originally planned to cover in a given dissertation chapter – and this is fine! I have the opportunity to complete a skeleton draft and can always supplement and revise this later. I have found that my original ambitious plan did not serve the purpose that I hoped to achieve in the chapter. (This post offers some more specific suggestions on writing a conference paper in a limited time – in a mere two days!)

Writing for an audience

As writers generally, and PhD students in particular, we are often told to consider who our readers will be when we write. As with elusive dissertation deadlines, though, our audiences can also be vaguely defined (our committees? other scholars in our field?). Writing for a conference comes with a built-in audience –even if that audience ends up being not many more people than your discussant and fellow panel members. Writing for a particular conference and panel, you now have a sense of the themes expected of your paper, the concepts you will need to explain, and the debates to which you hope your work will contribute. I have also found that writing for a specific, tangible audience also helps me to personify my usually densely theoretical work – it helps me to cut the jargon and focus on the takeaway I’d like the audience to remember from my talk.

Feedback and revisions

As we complete our highly specialized dissertation projects, most of the feedback we receive as we go along comes from readers who know us and our projects well – supervisors, committee members, and if we’re lucky a few friends or department colleagues. These people are mostly “insiders”: they have a sense of the orientation of our projects, our goals, and the conceptual vocabularies that frame our writing. I have found it very helpful to receive feedback from people who are interested in my project – and may be experts in the field – but do not necessarily begin from the same assumptions (and, relatedly, institutional background) as I am. Feedback from outside our own “bubbles” can offer new perspectives, new reading suggestions, or even reframe major aspects of the dissertation. The latter happened to me when a particularly conscientious discussant asked whether I would pursue a particular concept later in my dissertation – I hadn’t planned on it, but now this discussion forms the last chapter of my dissertation.

Possible caveats

Directing your dissertation writing through conference papers – and conference attendance in general – comes with several caveats, of course. First, you might find that the feedback you receive on your work is sparse or not at all helpful. Second, you might find yourself writing papers or participating on roundtables not related to your dissertation work at all. This could be a downside or not. Working on other projects might seem like a waste of time, but it might also be a welcome distraction from dissertation burnout, and an opportunity to develop new ideas for future projects and meet a new network of scholars.

I have two more conferences this summer – the British International Studies Association annual meeting in Brighton, UK and the Gregynog Ideas Lab in Newtown, Wales. At both, I’ll be presenting parts of the last chapter of my dissertation – yet to be written! In Brighton, I’m excited to be on a panel that both fits my research well and includes scholars I am eager to talk to further. In Wales, I’m looking forward to reconnecting with old friends and both sharing my own research and getting inspired by their research. In the meantime, I’ll be taking part in another long-honoured academic writing tradition – the writing retreat, in my case my brother’s sunny apartment in Sofia, Bulgaria. Have a wonderful summer and happy writing!

Marta Bashovski is a tutor at the CAC and a PhD Candidate in Political Science and Cultural, Social and Political Thought at UVic. She is most enthusiastic about food, travelling, and her cat.

 

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

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

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.

 

 

How writing fiction helped me write my dissertation

By Russell Campbell

Somewhere in my academic career I started trying to write novels. It wasn’t a decision I can pinpoint. It crept up on me through multiple fronts: my sister working for the Greater Victoria Public Library; a past girlfriend who had a sister married to the brother of epic-fantasy author Brandon Sanderson; free lectures for writing fiction by Brandon Sanderson on YouTube; a past roommate on the autism spectrum whose life revolved around fiction; and many friends who dabble with the idea of writing stories. Combine all this with my unending curiosity, and the result is years of my dissertation developing in parallel with multiple creative writing projects.

Underneath the curiosity, I felt that if I could write a novel, then a dissertation would be that much easier because I would have full command of the written English language. I should point out that my research area is in the sciences. If I could find a way for my brain to run a marathon, creative writing seemed like a healthy exercise.

As the years marched on, and my commitment to learn the craft of storytelling grew more earnest, I came to the realization that most authors spend at least four dedicated years in a degree program writing essays to refine their skills—which I don’t have—so there’s probably still a long way for me to go here. Upgrade my efforts to an ultra-marathon after bench pressing 500 lbs. Probably not healthy.

So I can save you the troubles I’ve been through and point you in the right direction if, like me, you also want to push your brain to its limits. If you are in the sciences, my suggestions are overkill, but still have benefits, and if you are not, then they might just be a nice addition to your skill set. Perhaps you want to write novels. In my present case, a wonderful surprise turned out to be how much easier it is to write documents of any kind, especially career oriented ones such as cover letters and teaching statements. It also made getting feedback from my supervisor much more tolerable.

The best piece of advice I can give is to make writing a part of every day. The easiest way to do this is to combine it with whatever entertainment you consume. Take notes on the shows you watch. I use Google Drive for this and all my other notes on writing. Most shows out there have commentary by YouTube podcasts and I look for those that grow my vocabulary.

There’s no shortage of videos online and books you can get on becoming an author. I found many of them to be repetitive. However, sadly, much of the advice is not helpful, and I have been fortunate to find the few sources that can actually prove it with science. A great place to start learning how to write fiction properly, no matter what your skill level, is a book called Story Genius, by Lisa Cron. She debunks the useless advice, and gives you a plan that avoids the big editing mistakes that waste time.

I’ve spent a lot of my education using formal logic, so I was delighted to see that writing approached from the perspective of journalism makes heavy use of logic. Finding topics is a matter of exploring logical patterns in everything you observe and proving their existence. Trying to refine this skill has helped me in my research, since this is creativity in a nutshell. This process is explained robustly in A Writer’s Coach, by Jack R. Hart.

Actually, I do have course credits with a superb textbook for grammar, and I still reference it often: Understanding English Grammar, by Martha Kolln and Robert Funk. I consider this the resource for word and sentence-level expertise only. Beyond this, if you want to know the impression your writing leaves, then Writing Tools, by Roy Peter Clark brings a large set of available skills. If you need advice at the story level, a freelance editor named Ellen Brock on YouTube provides not only videos, but organizes a novel boot camp on occasion. On her blog, she gives feedback on story submissions, and I find this is a good gauge to compare myself with other wannabe authors.

Creative writing course lectures for Brandon Sanderson’s BYU class are on YouTube. There are multiple iterations of it, each on different channels, but the most recent one for winter 2016 on Camera Panda really is the best one to watch, both in terms of video quality and content. Ignore the advice on the spectrum between plotting a novel or free-writing one. There’s no way around planning your writing if you don’t want to throw away much of what you write and you want an effective outcome.

I’m looking to connect with other fiction writers to form a support group. If you are interested email me at: ctrain79@uvic.com

Russell Campbell is a Ph.D. candidate in computer science and has completed a Master of Science in discrete mathematics, both at the University of Victoria, as well as a Bachelor of Science in mathematics at the University of the Fraser Valley.

 

 

 

Balancing on the point of a pin…

By Dr. Janet Sheppard

Balancing on the point of a pin. . . . Does that phrase make you wince or squirm a little as it does me? I’ve been reading a lot lately about productivity (we’ll get back to the pin later), a new buzz word for people who have a desire to achieve their goals and accomplish as much as they can, with as little pain, frustration, and procrastination as possible. Graduate students, academics, and professionals all want to maximize their ability to get things done. For those of you reading this blog, that means mostly writing, editing, and/or revising.

One of the places grad students sometimes stumble when it comes to writing is that they believe it should flow out of them. They do not see themselves as writers and, as Rachel Cayley, author of the blog post “Explorations of Style” says, here and here, grad students often hold a dichotomy between their “writing” and their “work”.  Because academic writing is different from other types of writing, it’s easy to form beliefs about what it ‘should’ be like.  One of the factors that has a large impact on these erroneous beliefs is that many grad students are so isolated in their academic work once their courses end.

I am a huge fan of communities of support for the writing process (please check out the Thesis Writing Starter Kit if you haven’t yet).  Not everyone needs a writing group, but in my experience, almost everyone needs a place to talk about their writing process, their stuck spots, and their successes! Sometimes other work gets privileged over writing because grad students feel more confident and competent doing it, and there are natural social rewards from tasks that have us engage with others.  I want to be clear that doing other things as part of your graduate work is important (attending a conference, TA-ing, acting as a research assistant), but if you find yourself with a long ‘to-do’ list of non-thesis writing tasks, chances are you are helping yourself feel more productive in the short term but making yourself vulnerable to criticism and imposter syndrome in the long term.

One of the most important foundations of productive writing is probably what Charles Duhigg (2016) describes as a sense of control. Have you thought about that lately? How ‘in control’ do you feel of this massive project called your thesis or dissertation? Particularly in the early stages, having no idea exactly what your thesis should or could be, means that for many grad students a sense of control is hard to come by.

One thing that can help to increase a sense of control (also known as agency, or an internal locus of control) is to form two different types of goals for yourself – what Duhigg calls an ‘aspirational goal’, the big ‘why’ of your decision to be in graduate school, how you see it contributing to your life/career goals, and SMART goals. (remember those? Specific, Measurable, Achievable/Action-oriented, Realistic, Time-bound) SMART goals are the ‘how’ of our productive work.  When I was working with Thesis Completion Groups, I frequently asked participants to break their weekly goals into smaller, more concrete elements…

“I’m going to finish Chapter 2”…hmmm. Okay, that is often the literature review chapter, how far along are you with reading and outlining your review? How much time can you give to the task of working on this each day? When during the day do you plan do this writing? Where will you work?

This may seem like an insane level of detail to include in your goal setting, but research shows that the smaller and more concrete our goals, and the more we anchor those goals into our physical environment, the more likely we are to achieve them. (Pychyl, 2013)

Here are some other writing tips you may already know about and integrate into your routine:

  • Disconnect from social media, limit your distractions during writing periods. We are often tempted to navigate away to search for something, check our email or Facebook, when we feel lost. If you use an app to limit access to certain sites while you’re working, you will become more productive!
  • Working with a timer helps to maintain a deeper focus! Cal Newport (2016) has called deep work the superpower of the 21st century, because it is so important to making progress in learning and business, but people are more and more distractible and managing only surface thinking!
  • If you are struggling with ‘writing your way into your topic’, ‘writing undressed’, or clarifying your thinking…try moving away from your computer and picking up a pen and paper. There is evidence emerging that suggests handwriting (a form of disfluency) forces you to slow down and facilitates deeper processing.

Okay, back to that pointy pin…the metaphor came to me as I was reflecting on the many graduate students with whom I have worked over the last six or seven years. While every student is different and the range and complexity of graduate student lives, interests, abilities, and research topics are phenomenal, one thing I believe shuts down productivity faster and more thoroughly than almost anything else, is the belief that there is a ‘right way’ to do this academic writing thing. The critical external gaze of instructors and your supervisor can compound the struggle to get it right, but if you feel that you must focus very hard on balancing all those competing demands, expectations and beliefs before you can start to write, you will ultimately end up in an impossible situation: trying to balance on the point of a pin. Here’s what I want for you: leap off. Surround yourself with people who believe in you as you (re)learn how to believe in yourself. Ask for help if you need it. Go to the Centre for Academic Communication, or to Counselling Services if your quality of life has been severely impacted. If you’ve made it this far, you can learn how to navigate without paralysis and endless pain. Stay tuned for another blog post that will touch on some other health and well-being ‘hacks’ that can help you soar.

References

Duhigg, C. (2016). Smarter, Faster, Better: The Secrets of Being Productive in Life and Business. New York, NY: Penguin Random House.

Newport, C. (2016). Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World. New York, NY: Grand Central Publishing.

Pychyl, T. (2013) Solving the Procrastination Puzzle: A Concise Guide to Strategies for Change. Jeremy P. Tarcher/Penguin.

Dr. Janet Sheppard worked in Counselling Services for more than 25 years. While she retired last summer, in the last part of her UVic career Janet coordinated a series of Thesis Completion Support groups, helped to organize and facilitate Thesis Boot Camps, developed and co-facilitated a graduate student career exploration group with Career Services, and generally loved working with graduate students. Janet is currently completing a graduate certificate program in executive coaching.

 

Smudging the lines of the outline

Madeline Walker’s post, Writing undressed, made me think about my process of planning for academic writing and my beliefs about it. It also reminded me of a conversation we had a few months ago about the value of making an outline before starting to write.

I am all about planning. Before writing a paper, journal article, or a thesis chapter, I always spend a long time mind mapping and creating an outline. I try to make sure I know what my thesis statement is and how many sub-points I need to support that thesis. I organize all my ideas and try to imagine the line of argument as specifically as possible. Then I order the ideas on an outline and try to make it so detailed that I end up with topic sentences for each paragraph, basically creating a template for my paper that I will fill in later with supporting sentences for each paragraph.

My conversation with Madeline was on the effectiveness of this approach. She raised a question about the possibility of having such a detailed outline before writing, whether we really can know exactly what we want to say before we start to write, and I defended the idea of preparing before writing, that the argument can get off track and confusing unless we have such a specific outline before we start.

Kaveh Tagharobi is a graduate student and an EAL specialist at the CAC

Reading her blog post about the stages of undress, however, I now see what she meant that day. Those stages of disarray that Writing undressed talks about are so familiar for me as well. With all my mind maps and topic sentence outlines, I constantly find myself reorganizing, merging and adding paragraphs, and even changing direction altogether. My apparently carefully dressed outline gets disrobed during the writing process, as I discover that two of my main ideas are actually the same and need to be merged, or that I need one more paragraph to discuss this or that topic.

But does this mean that I give up on my outlines? Probably not. I still see the value in having the road map outlined before I embark on writing, even if I have to accept that this is only tentative. I believe I can at least draw a sketch of my outline and then be prepared to smudge the lines as I write. The number of modifications and alterations probably depends on the complexity of that particular piece of writing I am working on. I think I can make my outline with more certainty when I am writing a five paragraph essay for a first-year English course, and I probably should expect more changes when I am writing the first draft of my thesis.

I still think that I would be too lost if I start writing without an outline, but after reading Madeline’s post, now I feel much more comfortable when I adjust the outline as I write. The outline is the suit that I thought I’d wear to the party, dry-cleaned and carefully laid down on the bed, but my room is a mess with all my wardrobe out and I am trying them all on and throwing them around before I am happy with the look I want to leave the house with…or to submit my manuscript!

Kaveh Tagharobi is an EAL (English as an additional language) Specialist at the Centre for Academic Communication.  He is also in the English Department’s MA Program with a concentration in Cultural, Social, and Political Thought.