problems with power

So I've been reading and writing; what's new? The writing. I haven't written much on my dissertation for the last eighteen months. What follows is my PhD history (from my point of view). I sped through my coursework and loved it. Literature was always my strength and it was no surprise to me when all sorts of texts opened to my glance. It was exhilarating; during my time at PU I didn't have a computer, half the time I was there I didn't even have a television. I had a one room apartment, full ashtrays, all the reading anyone could want, the drive to succeed that only the young have, and a growing telephone bill. I was broke and I loved it.

But then I moved away; I married the love of my life, moved a few hours away from the University, and tried to continue working on my own. It wasn't easy. After a while (read, a year) I finished a first draft of my prospectus. The research wasn't great, but it wasn't completely shoddy either. This draft, my advisor sent back to me with instructions to cut it in half. Yeah, C. (my advisor) gave me more comments than just to cut it down, but it didn't feel like it. I felt more like I had been deserted.

Eight months later I produced another draft. This prospectus had focus, and I still think it's an honest preview of the dissertation I'm now writing. But I never really received any feedback at all on this draft. Do you know what C. told me? Are you sure you want to write a dissertation? You could do a lot of things with your education; you don't have to teach. What the fuck. Honestly, I took it as he meant it. I drove home, flipped the thing over my shoulder, and didn't think about it for another six months. (Do you see how time flies?)

So, I'm finally writing again. Another year passed during which I filled another research notebook full of random data. I've stored some great ideas, followed lots of thoughts, and read more than I had planned. But none of these things helps one write a dissertation. Finally, I came to the conclusion that I simply must write. I'm not a Nazi about it, but I enjoy it again. Finally.

I still need to talk to C. about my project. If he's willing to help I'll have a great time finishing the damnable thing; if he won't help me I'll farm the paper out to the first graduate school that will take most of my credits and transfer, paper in hand.

Let's hope that's not how it goes.