Being that I am, in my day job, a professor, I read a certain number of articles relating to life in academe--all too many of which are fairly depressing. Even if the article isn't depressing, the comments often are. I was mildly skeptical, therefore, that an article entitled 5 Easy Fixes for a Broken Faculty Job Market could possibly offer anything useful.
I'm very pleased to report that this is actually a great and practical article. Whether the fixes are "easy" depends mainly on the extent to which departments choose to apply them.
First, the author recognizes that scholarly job applicants (and indeed search committees) are presently obliged to spend an insane amount of time dealing with job applications. I remember this well from both sides of the game (but especially from the applicant side). When I was on the job market 10+ years ago, we had to send off ridiculous amounts of material, and it usually had to be customized further than just inserting the correct names of school, department, and position in the cover letter. Not that I'm a foe of a good specific cover letter, but that should really be the only thing that has to be customized. In any case, if the author of this article is right, which I assume s/he is (not making any gender assumptions about a first name of Chris), things are worse now than then. When I was applying, for instance, the cover letter was supposed to be no more than two pages, and one was considered somewhat better than two. Now, apparently, the cover letter is expected to be two to four. Egad! That's criminal! Then there is a whole pile of other crap to send--much of which I had to send too, but I never had to send a Diversity Statement, and it wasn't normal to have to send transcripts.
I won't break down everything suggested in the article, but I'm all in favor of knocking the initial application down to just a few pieces, like cover letter, c.v., writing sample or a sample syllabus, and list of references. That's enough for the committee to whittle down to a list of initial interviewees. And while I do prefer in-person interviews, it is unquestionably kinder to applicants to do the first interview by phone, because yes, it costs a lot to go to professional conferences. Yes, people should try to attend for professional development and networking, but not everyone can afford to go when on the job market. Also, while video interviews are now fairly easy to do, my department chair has pointed out that they are not as fair as phone interviews; he had recently had the experience of realizing he was biased against an administrative candidate because he thought her home decor sucked. Obviously, said he, her home decor was irrelevant to whether she could do the job she was interviewing for, and he didn't want to be distracted by that.
Waiting to get references until the middle or final stages of a search also sounds great to me. It is, indeed, a time-sink for references (some of whom write very detailed, individual letters) to write masses of such letters each year. It should be enough to agree to be on someone's reference list and then provide the reference (written or oral) only if the candidate is under serious consideration. (Reference letters for students applying to grad school are a different matter, I think, and should be done at the start. Correct me if I'm wrong.)
There are other important suggestions here too, but even just implementing the above would be a huge step in the right direction. So thank you, Chris M. Golde of Stanford, for making such a practical, kind-to-all set of proposals. Here's hoping they take hold!
Wednesday, August 7, 2019
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
Writers Gonna Write
I know that it is August, and my primary task for the month is to ensure that my courses are ready to teach by later in the month (and that I have trimmed down my ISSS conference paper to 20 minutes and created the Powerpoint for it), but although I have done some work on my courses--which are, fortunately, all courses I've taught before--my mind has not yet quite settled into course-prep mode. It remains, mostly, in fiction mode.
Now, if I were a sane person (but are writers sane?), I would see about making progress on another of my close-to-done novels, which currently number two. In fact, I know which one ought to be finished next; it is the one I had intended to finish this summer, but which lost out to one that was closer to done. (There is some, if not much, method in my madness.)
Perversely, however, a new idea popped into my head. And it's not even the only new idea for a novel to come up in recent months; my cousin Cheryl and I have been plotting another one that we think I should write one of these days. That one, admittedly, will be a major project and I am not ready to embark on more than preliminary planning for it.
This one is a smaller project, I should hope (maybe a novella, even), and it began to percolate in my mind as I contemplated the fact that all of my novels (completed, underway, planned) are set between ten and ninety years in the past. (Well, one also has some portions set much further back than that, but the main action occurs in the 1980s.) Surely it might be a fine thing to, for once, dash off something that is still about the present day by the time I finish it?
I attempted to quell this feeling, which has so much against it (too many other projects, too little time, too much climate change and other life-destroying unpleasantness), but next thing I knew, I had an actual idea and some actual characters. For this, I blame Muriel Spark, as I had just reread her last novel Finishing School. Finishing School is quite short and mildly strange, and while I wouldn't class it as one of her best, it had made me say to myself "I too can dash off something about this length, provided I can write the damned thing start-to-finish rather than in my usual patchwork manner." (As I tend to plot as I go, starting at the beginning and moving along to the end is only sometimes an option, but when I can do it, I can write quickly.)
It may not be fair of me to blame Muriel Spark, who has been dead for 13 years now, for my own demented hubris. It may also seem bold of me to imagine that just because one of the major writers of the 20th century could dash off sometimes fairly short novels in very reasonable amounts of time, that I should aspire to do the same. Still, I know I can do it, because I've done it before. The novel that is out being contemplated by editors and contest judges is one I wrote in a three-month period, and it is not even remarkably short. (Having stolen the plot from a classic of Western literature helped immensely.)
It is fair to say, however, that while there are many authors that I love and admire, or even simply devour as light reading when tired, there are relatively few who give me that sense of get-up-and-write, and Muriel Spark is often one of them. If I could become some sort of amalgam of Muriel Spark, Robertson Davies, A.S. Byatt, and Italo Calvino, for instance, I would not be at all displeased. (Note that these writers are not all that similar.) I note, too, my Complete Works of Nathanael West lying carelessly nearby and we could throw him, too, into the mix.
However, literary name-dropping is not the point here, beyond that I want to announce that everyone ought to read André Alexis, who is actually still alive, unlike most of the above-mentioned.
No, in the back of my brain I'm sorting through things about this novel(la), which I've begun, and which could perhaps be written quickly, if I don't have to get bogged down in looking at old emails about political and ecological matters that will need to be mentioned in it. It's not a project I expect to find especially delightful (delightfulness can extend the writing process), but as I'm ahead of the game on writing my fall conference papers and suchlike, there's at least some possibility that I could write this item in a reasonable span of time.
No promises, but it could happen.
Now, if I were a sane person (but are writers sane?), I would see about making progress on another of my close-to-done novels, which currently number two. In fact, I know which one ought to be finished next; it is the one I had intended to finish this summer, but which lost out to one that was closer to done. (There is some, if not much, method in my madness.)
Perversely, however, a new idea popped into my head. And it's not even the only new idea for a novel to come up in recent months; my cousin Cheryl and I have been plotting another one that we think I should write one of these days. That one, admittedly, will be a major project and I am not ready to embark on more than preliminary planning for it.
This one is a smaller project, I should hope (maybe a novella, even), and it began to percolate in my mind as I contemplated the fact that all of my novels (completed, underway, planned) are set between ten and ninety years in the past. (Well, one also has some portions set much further back than that, but the main action occurs in the 1980s.) Surely it might be a fine thing to, for once, dash off something that is still about the present day by the time I finish it?
I attempted to quell this feeling, which has so much against it (too many other projects, too little time, too much climate change and other life-destroying unpleasantness), but next thing I knew, I had an actual idea and some actual characters. For this, I blame Muriel Spark, as I had just reread her last novel Finishing School. Finishing School is quite short and mildly strange, and while I wouldn't class it as one of her best, it had made me say to myself "I too can dash off something about this length, provided I can write the damned thing start-to-finish rather than in my usual patchwork manner." (As I tend to plot as I go, starting at the beginning and moving along to the end is only sometimes an option, but when I can do it, I can write quickly.)
It may not be fair of me to blame Muriel Spark, who has been dead for 13 years now, for my own demented hubris. It may also seem bold of me to imagine that just because one of the major writers of the 20th century could dash off sometimes fairly short novels in very reasonable amounts of time, that I should aspire to do the same. Still, I know I can do it, because I've done it before. The novel that is out being contemplated by editors and contest judges is one I wrote in a three-month period, and it is not even remarkably short. (Having stolen the plot from a classic of Western literature helped immensely.)
It is fair to say, however, that while there are many authors that I love and admire, or even simply devour as light reading when tired, there are relatively few who give me that sense of get-up-and-write, and Muriel Spark is often one of them. If I could become some sort of amalgam of Muriel Spark, Robertson Davies, A.S. Byatt, and Italo Calvino, for instance, I would not be at all displeased. (Note that these writers are not all that similar.) I note, too, my Complete Works of Nathanael West lying carelessly nearby and we could throw him, too, into the mix.
However, literary name-dropping is not the point here, beyond that I want to announce that everyone ought to read André Alexis, who is actually still alive, unlike most of the above-mentioned.
No, in the back of my brain I'm sorting through things about this novel(la), which I've begun, and which could perhaps be written quickly, if I don't have to get bogged down in looking at old emails about political and ecological matters that will need to be mentioned in it. It's not a project I expect to find especially delightful (delightfulness can extend the writing process), but as I'm ahead of the game on writing my fall conference papers and suchlike, there's at least some possibility that I could write this item in a reasonable span of time.
No promises, but it could happen.
Monday, August 5, 2019
Goodbye Opossum
I am sad to report that the hybrid literary journal Opossum, a beautifully designed "marsupial" which published a story of mine last year, has ceased publication. This is, unfortunately, a not uncommon fate of literary journals, especially those bravely founded by individuals and small editorial teams without university backing. Opossum not only featured gorgeous cover art leading one into the fiction and poetry, but in most of its issues included a 7" single, as the auditory was very important to the editorial team.
According to the former editor, "If we published your work or you are an educator and you want a box of Opossums, send me (opossum.jedgar@gmail.com) your address and I will ship it out to you via media mail in the coming weeks. Opossum was used in at least two university classes as an example of a literary journal and of mixed media in literature, so if you want issues for a class, let me know and they will come. After this first round, I will open it up to the general public."
According to the former editor, "If we published your work or you are an educator and you want a box of Opossums, send me (opossum.jedgar@gmail.com) your address and I will ship it out to you via media mail in the coming weeks. Opossum was used in at least two university classes as an example of a literary journal and of mixed media in literature, so if you want issues for a class, let me know and they will come. After this first round, I will open it up to the general public."
Sunday, August 4, 2019
El Paso and Dayton, Too
It's time to change policy and begin to return the USA to the civilized world.
Friday, August 2, 2019
And How Many of these Literary Fiction Tropes Do You Use?
This little checklist, on Electric Lit, caught my eye: Who Needs an MFA When You Have This Literary Fiction Trope Checklist?
As a non-MFA writer of literary fiction (and one whose first story was published before quite a few of today's adults were even born--yes, I'm admitting to being ancient, as I have a big birthday coming up), I could not resist taking a look. The 25 tropes are amusing in their way. The author suggests that if one can manage to cram all 25 into one story, one might even snag a Pulitzer.
Aha, now we know why I have not yet won a Pulitzer for the fiction that has been appearing in various little magazines over the past few decades!
I am pretty sure that the only one of these tropes that I have ever perpetrated was #10, "Woman who looks good without trying compared to female protagonist who looks bad despite trying." I feel mildly guilty at having ever included such a thing--why couldn't I have done #21, "Dogs bark in distance," instead? But I know I do have one instance of #10 in one of the close-to-done novels and I am not taking it out, because it's very brief and I think it works.
Oh, and I may possibly have used #22, "Upset character barfs," in a story I wrote during my freshman year of college. I kind of think I did, because I had a good friend who barfed when upset and I found that strange and evocative back then.
It's also true that I've had characters look out the window relatively early in the story (#2, "Starts with character looking out of window, describing scenery"), but not immediately upon waking (#1, "Starts with character waking up"). Perhaps I'm closer to Pulitzer-dom than I had thought.
Still, I just can't see myself ever using #16, "Villain who is kind to pet." My stories just don't really go in for villains, other than one I wrote at the age of 11 which involved a hyper-lustful nobleman in an imaginary world. The number of times Lord Evil managed to rape the Angry and Plucky Protagonist alongside the road in a short period of time made clear that the story was decidedly set in another world. I don't recall him being cruel to his horse, but I doubt he was kind to pets beyond making sure that the horse was properly maintained for jousting and such.
#15, "White savior," is also not likely to happen in my fiction unless we interpret this fairly broadly. I mean, I'm not likely to employ a "Black savior," a "Brown savior," or a "Yellow" or "Red savior" either. Saviors just aren't my kind of fictional trope. Well, apart from that one of my protagonists mentioned Warner Sallman's much-reproduced painting Christ at Heart's Door as a common household ornament. If you are my relative and are reading this, I am sure you know this work well, whether or not you know its name or artist.
Finally, #3, "Protagonist is writer with writer’s block," is very unlikely to crop up in my fiction. I admit that I should try to make my protagonists less like myself (and some of them certainly are strongly unlike me), but the only time I had a serious case of writer's block, I cured it by starting a different writing project. So all right, as a result of doing that I lost Agent #2 because I never finished the book I'd become blocked on, but win some, lose some. I just don't have much desire to write about protagonists who have writer's block. (Other characters with writer's block, perhaps. Minor characters. Not protagonists.)
And now we can see why I am not headed for a Pulitzer, and apparently also why I am not yet a household name among the North American literati.
As a non-MFA writer of literary fiction (and one whose first story was published before quite a few of today's adults were even born--yes, I'm admitting to being ancient, as I have a big birthday coming up), I could not resist taking a look. The 25 tropes are amusing in their way. The author suggests that if one can manage to cram all 25 into one story, one might even snag a Pulitzer.
Aha, now we know why I have not yet won a Pulitzer for the fiction that has been appearing in various little magazines over the past few decades!
I am pretty sure that the only one of these tropes that I have ever perpetrated was #10, "Woman who looks good without trying compared to female protagonist who looks bad despite trying." I feel mildly guilty at having ever included such a thing--why couldn't I have done #21, "Dogs bark in distance," instead? But I know I do have one instance of #10 in one of the close-to-done novels and I am not taking it out, because it's very brief and I think it works.
Oh, and I may possibly have used #22, "Upset character barfs," in a story I wrote during my freshman year of college. I kind of think I did, because I had a good friend who barfed when upset and I found that strange and evocative back then.
It's also true that I've had characters look out the window relatively early in the story (#2, "Starts with character looking out of window, describing scenery"), but not immediately upon waking (#1, "Starts with character waking up"). Perhaps I'm closer to Pulitzer-dom than I had thought.
Still, I just can't see myself ever using #16, "Villain who is kind to pet." My stories just don't really go in for villains, other than one I wrote at the age of 11 which involved a hyper-lustful nobleman in an imaginary world. The number of times Lord Evil managed to rape the Angry and Plucky Protagonist alongside the road in a short period of time made clear that the story was decidedly set in another world. I don't recall him being cruel to his horse, but I doubt he was kind to pets beyond making sure that the horse was properly maintained for jousting and such.
#15, "White savior," is also not likely to happen in my fiction unless we interpret this fairly broadly. I mean, I'm not likely to employ a "Black savior," a "Brown savior," or a "Yellow" or "Red savior" either. Saviors just aren't my kind of fictional trope. Well, apart from that one of my protagonists mentioned Warner Sallman's much-reproduced painting Christ at Heart's Door as a common household ornament. If you are my relative and are reading this, I am sure you know this work well, whether or not you know its name or artist.
Finally, #3, "Protagonist is writer with writer’s block," is very unlikely to crop up in my fiction. I admit that I should try to make my protagonists less like myself (and some of them certainly are strongly unlike me), but the only time I had a serious case of writer's block, I cured it by starting a different writing project. So all right, as a result of doing that I lost Agent #2 because I never finished the book I'd become blocked on, but win some, lose some. I just don't have much desire to write about protagonists who have writer's block. (Other characters with writer's block, perhaps. Minor characters. Not protagonists.)
And now we can see why I am not headed for a Pulitzer, and apparently also why I am not yet a household name among the North American literati.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)