#writingdrafts

xxx

IG @judyangelg 

One of the most challenging aspects of “dissertating” is escaping the black hole of research and entering into the writing phase. Each time I felt ready to begin the daunting task of writing my dissertation, I found one more intriguing lead, one more trip down the rabbit hole that led me off into a fantastical world of new possibilities. Perhaps it’s endemic to qualitative research, as it seems to have less clearly defined margins. It’s not a clear five-chapter endeavor. Discovering other directions provided the perfect delay mechanism. I was not ready. Don’t rush me. There’s much more pondering to be done.

My meandering path showed signs of circuitousness. The same research popped up again and again. I saw my dogged research for what it was: delay of the inevitable. I had to get off this merry-go-round and begin to go somewhere, anywhere. I heard my own voice in my head, the college writing teacher instructing her students to begin somewhere, anywhere. Just begin. Every first draft looks like a pile of poop. Get started. I suppose I could practice what I preached. I metaphorically buckled myself in my writing seat for set periods of time and wrote a bunch of crap. I sat and talked through my research with dissertating colleagues. I went back to the screen and wrote. When the screen failed me, I picked up legal pads and a mechanical pencil (a brand named “PhD” even) and laboriously wrote by hand. I kept at it until I found flow.

When I stalled, I read other dissertations, hoping to find my way out of the morass of my own writing. I wrote and rewrote on screen, on paper. I dreamt paragraphs. Once I had accumulated a semblance of a dissertation draft, I created a file and, full of hope, named it “Final Version.” When over 50 documents filled the file, I renamed it “Final Version Perhaps.” The final document count numbered in the 80s.