Friday, November 20, 2015

In a Writing Coma

The past two weeks are a blur. Seriously, I can barely remember anything that has happened. Why?  Because I've been in a writing coma. I have written a 31-page paper on textbooks published between 1890 and 1930--and I finished the rough draft tonight. To celebrate, I am in a scalding hot bath surrounded by bubbles in my favorite scent, Bath and Body Works French Lavender and Honey. And I'm catching up on my blogging. (Oh, God!  More writing!)

The constant writing has only been interrupted by the news from Paris. The city I love most in the world suffered a series of attacks from what John Oliver described as a "bunch of flaming assholes."  As horrible as it was, I love the way the world stood in solidarity with France. Or, at least parts of the world.  Mostly who I thought about when it all happened was my buddy Adrien. A young Frenchman, Adrien loves heavy metal, death metal, really anything remotely resembling Motley Crue. He's exactly the kind of guy who would have been at the death metal concert.  The thought of him being hurt as so many young French people were that night makes me furious. I hope the French and the Russians will do what the U.S. won't and blow those "flaming assholes" to smithereens. 

On Monday, after a weekend of nothing but research and writing, I had a one-on-one with Dr. H. about my paper. Mind you, all of us in the class had to do this. I watched as, one by one, my classmates went to his office, all leaving anxiously and returning with smiles. Yeah, that didn't happen to me. I went anxiously--and had a meltdown while in there. It was one of those meltdowns that had me wishing desperately for the touchy-feely guidance of a Debbie Fairweather. Now, that woman knew how to handle a Lorraine meltdown. Not so much for Dr. H.  But I was able to express some concerns that have dogged me since I got here and, after the shame of it all, I actually felt better (tears always make a good catharsis for me).  And he offered one excellent piece of advice. "Write."  Oh, and "take a deep breath."  Two good pieces of advice. I did both. I stopped freaking out about the research and just started to put words on paper. And damned if it didn't help. Writing is always a painful process to begin but, once begun, it makes the hours slip away. And, even though I know this current paper is not my best work, it's still at least a good complete working draft. Done, in this instance, is better than good. 

After the meltdown, I was fortunate to turn to two important comforts--my fellow classmates and pancakes. That night, I went out to IHOP and joined with fellow sufferers in the most ridiculously decadent calorie-fest EVER. And, oh, how I was comforted by the bacon, eggs, hash browns, and pancakes. 


Today, in addition to finishing my draft, I held the last of my discussion sections. What began as a nervewrecking exercise turned out to be a very rewarding experience. Students who wouldn't say a word in August came to join in the conversations more and more over the semester. Students who are bright and curious asked questions and made observations. I've gotten to watch as students became better at writing thoughtful analyses of historical texts and took away bits of knowledge that they won't soon forget (no matter how hard some might try). And I went from someone pretending to be a teaching assistant to someone comfortable enough in the role to lead what I hope were fun, stimulating discussions. Wow!  What a ride!

Of course, there's still a lot more to do before the semester is over. A 25-page historiographical essay for Dr. S. and a 10-page analysis for Dr. P. I've got 50+ essays to grade this coming week, plus 50+ final exams beginning December 4. Then there are final grades to tabulate, peer review of my classmates' research papers, and a few more things to read. The life of a grad student....

[disclaimer: I tend to use this blog to not only impress readers with my workload but to remind myself that there's still a lot more to do before I can relax.  Ugh!]

But tonight is about this bath and this blog. It is clear and cold outside, and the trees around my apartment are turning out beautiful fall foliage. Inside, well, it's a bit of a pigpen, I'm nearly out of clean clothes, and my cupboards are bare.  But, in the words of my gal Scarlett....



Knighty-knight from Knoxville....



1 comment:

  1. Stay strong and don't get writer's cramp or carpal tunnel from too much key-boarding. Glad to hear that even with the monumental workload, you are finding joy. You've come a long way, baby, in a very short time. Be proud of your accomplishments.

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