Future pathways for doctoral graduates: Meeting of the EARLI SIG on Researcher Education and Careers, 18-20 September

Tags

careers, research skills, writing retreat

By Cally Guerin

In September I had the good fortune to attend the meeting of the European Association for Research on Learning and Instruction (EARLI) Researcher Education and Careers SIG at the Universidade do Porto in Portugal. This relatively new group met to explore the theme “Careers: Beyond the thesis and beyond the academy”.  Around 40 scholars from all over Europe and Scandinavia (and a few like me from further afield) spent two days discussing the complexities of the current labour market for PhD graduates. The SIG event was divided into two parts: first, there was a two-day writing/reading retreat; then the next two days were devoted to the formal SIG meeting.

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Thesis Writing Boot Camp for Doctoral Writers

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thesis boot camp, writing retreat

by Cally Guerin

In the past I’ve been reluctant to go down the ‘Thesis Writing Boot Camp’ path. To me it sounds punitive, as if only the naughty students who have failed to make sufficient progress need to attend. And when unfit writers arrive, they’ll be forced into doing the work they didn’t complete previously, pushed to the limits of their ability in exercising their minds (if not their physical bodies). My own attitude to working with research students is much more focused on creating an inclusive, collaborative community of mutually supportive scholars – I want them to feel that I’m looking after them, rather than criticizing their hard work and extensive, long-term efforts.

But boot camps have become part of the annual program in lots of universities in Australia since Peta Freestone and Liam Connell introduced the concept at the University of Melbourne. There is some very useful advice on what has been successful in a convenient set of guidelines. As far as I can work out, boot camps seem to follow from the popularity of both ‘Shut up and write!’ groups and extended doctoral writing retreats pioneered by people like Barbara Grant and Rowena Murray, as well as the Academic Writing Month (AcWriMo) approach. Students know about what’s happening at other universities and want to be part of what they see being effective elsewhere.

So I decided to give it a go.

I wanted to keep things fairly simple as a first foray into this kind of writing event. The schedule was set for five mornings in one week in February, 9am-1pm, to kick-start the 2016 academic year in Australia.

The event was held in some rooms in our usual building, but in a separate section away from participants’ offices. By using this familiar space, participants could travel to the sessions easily instead of having to find a new bus route or car park; could have ready access to their offices to run back for any forgotten materials; and could use their university internet connection (for writing purposes, but hopefully not for checking distracting email or social media!).

Participants were reminded one week ahead of the start date to think ahead about the overall writing outcomes they wanted for the week. We worked to a timetable of three writing ‘sprints’ each morning; a timetable for the 15 sprint sessions was provided so that participants could assign specific tasks to work on for each session.

The group meeting and discussion time was kept to a minimum, as the focus was on producing the writing. We had just half an hour at the beginning of the first morning for participants to introduce themselves to each other and explain their projects and approaches to the writing tasks they had set for themselves; then another short session at the very end was used to report back on what they’d achieved during the boot camp and to make a writing plan for the rest of the year.

During the morning, we had two short breaks to allow for more discussion time and social chat. An urn, tea and coffee were provided – very simple catering, but enough to refresh the writers (and keep them nearby, rather than wandering off to get a flat white in the café across campus and arriving back late to the next writing session).

Some participants were unable to attend all five days, owing to other responsibilities, or found they needed to arrive late or leave a little early sometimes. These adults had signed up voluntarily (unlike some compulsory boot camps); this group was more than capable of making sensible decisions about their time and priorities. A week-long boot camp doesn’t work for everyone, and gracious withdrawal is perfectly fine. Nevertheless, overall attendance was consistent and the public commitment to the boot camp seemed to provide a sense of accountability to the facilitator and the group for missed sessions.

By Friday lunchtime a lot of words had been written, and good progress made in conceptualising thesis arguments and structures. The habit of writing on demand was established, and participants could brag to themselves and others about what they’d achieved through their concerted, consistent efforts. The hope is that this sense of achievement will encourage participants to continue writing to a schedule.

Have you instituted your own thesis writing boot camps or participated in one? Are there pitfalls to be wary of? What worked for your group, and what recommendations do you have for others considering starting something along these lines?

Peer review of writing: the mechanics of how

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Accurate word choice, feedback on writing, structuring argument, talking about writing, writing fun, Writing motivation, writing retreat

By Susan Carter

Doctoral peer review of writing seems like wise practice to me. It widens the source of feedback: if students have any dissatisfaction with the way their supervisors review their writing, quite simply, they can supplement that elsewhere. The groups I run are generic, with people bringing writing from any discipline. Groups can be really productive within departments or faculties, or can be, like mine, centrally situated.

Setting up a group recently where there was some initial uncertainty about how to give helpful feedback to colleagues, I set out some criteria. Since no one could think of more to add, we set out with this as guidance:

Watch out for emotions. You will get the most from the session if you are open to critical feedback, but try to gauge how much advice works best for you as an individual. Then as a reviewer take care according to the sensitivity climate. Humans have a tendency to be critical rather than praising: we are trained as researchers to do this. Remember that in this case reviewers must talk about what works well as well as giving constructive feedback for improvement: begin with what works well and why before moving into what could be improved. Ending on a reaffirmation is often recommended too.

Being concrete and specific about what has worked well is important: group talk about exactly what we like gives pointers to improving writing. It has benefits beyond the emotional boost for the writer.

Writers can ask for specific areas to be given thought:

• Is the structure ok?
• Are you convinced by the X section?
• Is the Y section clear?
• Do I need to explain more about Z?
• Is this just too simplistic?
• Is this too obscure and hard to read?
• Do I sound authoritative in my use of theory?
• Could you watch for grammar or punctuation problems?
• Please suggest better words for any of my phrases.

As a reader follow the writer’s direction. You could also look for other stylistic qualities.

• Are there any times when the tone slips, for example, when language becomes too informal, or too stilted, or too obscure, or too naive?
• Are there any disjunctive colloquialisms? Any dead clichés? Or any words that you suspect may be problematic (e.g., ‘naturally’ if you are in a constructivist framework where nothing is assumed to be natural)?
• Is the tension right? Could the prose be tightened: is it too loose with many sentences yielding little of real value? Or is it too tight and dense to be understandable?
• Is the level of definition and explanation right? Are there any points when you need more explanation? Or are there places where there is too much spelt out so that this detracts from the flow of ideas?
• Are there repeats at word level or in sentence structure that would be better avoided?
• Are there any sentences that are too long and complex? If so, suggest a way of splitting giant mutant sentences into more than one.
• Are there times when emphasis seems inaccurate?
• Could you add any suggestions at times when ideas seem promising but not fully developed?

In peer review practice, I suggest that while staying aware of the emotional dimension reviewers should offer any suggestions that they believe would be helpful. Whenever a sentence is hard to follow, they should indicate this, and offer a way of clarifying it. It is so helpful when reviewers suggest how to restructure more logically, or find a more precise word, or ask questions that drive the author to see what is missing. The author has the option of rejecting suggestions, but will get something of value: a truthful view of their own work through another reader’s eyes.

That was where my criteria ended. As the group met for review over several sessions, we learned more about the mechanics of peer review.

This semester, several participants commented that it is really helpful getting feedback from someone who is not in their discipline.

A light came on for me when a reviewer said ‘I don’t know how to review this; the topic is so far out of my understanding,’ the biophysicist author helpfully suggested, ‘if you replace this big term with A and this one with B and this one with C, would it make sense to you?’ She’d articulated what I have found for years: if you ignore the content, and follow reading for logical progression, structure and grammar, you can give a great deal of useful feedback to writers without actually understanding the content fully.

In many ways this sort of feedback from someone who doesn’t understand is as important as feedback from insiders who do: the outsider reader is then reading the mechanics of language without being distracted by engagement with the content. Clarity is likely to result from a diligent unknowing reader. Another participant noticed that she really liked what she called experiential comment: times when someone said ‘at this point, I wondered why…’ or ‘here I am feeling that…’ and gave a real sense of the reader and their needs as they move through the writing.

The impetus generated by reviewing writing together is huge. One of the huge benefits of peer review is that it literalises the reader, someone who can slip out of focus if you are writing alone from a writerly perspective. In a writing group, the reader gives formative rather than summative feedback. It’s friendly. There’s sometimes laughter. Yet a lot is achieved too.

Several people in the group had significant breakthroughs with how to structure their work by talking through the difficulty they were having with sympathetic listeners hoping to help. In that group now, some of our time allows for problem talk and feedback. I suspect that in each case it wasn’t so much the feedback that caused the threshold crossing moment, but the act of explaining what was hard led the writer to solve their own problem.

 

 

 

 

Writing in the company of others; ‘Shut up and write!’, AcWriMo, boot camps, writing retreats and other fun activities.

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AcWriMo, writing fun, Writing groups, writing retreat

By Claire Aitchison

I am watching the curious look inquisitively at this small group of people sitting outside in the sun tapping away at their keyboards. It’s hard to tell those who are intentionally part of our new ‘Shut up and write!’ from those who just happened, accidently, to lob here today. There’s the usual café sounds: orders being given and names being called out, cutlery clattering, cups meeting saucers and spoons. Some people look askance, others quickly soften their voices and look away – as if they have walked in on someone in prayer.

It’s 9.15am and people continue to join us. We are now eight definites and four fringe-dwellers: perhaps the outliers are hedging their bets; not sure enough yet to sit with us.

At the break we talk. Everyone is a doctoral student and immediately there’s an exchange about thesis topics, stage of candidature, software programs, the recent Boot Camp and other group writing opportunities on campus. Everyone wants to make writing normal business. Everyone needs to build writing into their lives so they can get their PhD done.

Then we settle down again to write. Together. In silence. It’s magic.

We have written before about group writing for doctoral scholars and academics including online writing groups, retreats and so on.  In this blog I aim to give an overview of the group writing opportunities that I’m aware of – and to invite readers to tell us about others.

WRITING MARATHONS are productivity-focussed events that usually involve measuring output (eg word counts) against time. Some examples include:

AcWriMo is perhaps the most widely known and popular. Started in 2011 by Charlotte Frost, AcWriMo is an annual online month-long ‘write-a-thon’ fashioned after the successful NaNoWriMo  (National Novel Writing Month). Writers participate via the host – PhD2Published; they determine their own writing goals and are supported by tonnes of social media including dedicated posts, twitter feeds and participant exchanges. You can read here about Cally’s experience with a more localised AcWriMo.

Boot camps work on a similar principle, except that those that I know of bring people together in the same physical space; they are mostly facilitated and very often centrally provisioned by University Grad schools or Writing Centres. Like AcrWriMo, participants set personal writing targets which they aim to meet in a set period of time, such as 2 or 3 days. This blog on the Thesis Whisperer gives a great account of how a Boot Camp works.

OTHER SOCIAL WRITING 

‘Shut up and write!’ is a mini writing sprint, rather than a marathon, that usually runs over an hour on a regular basis (eg weekly) in a convivial place. This kind of writing event is popular with doctoral scholars and academics because it’s a relaxed arrangement without hard rules or long term commitment. Participants simply turn up and get on with their writing, in the company of others, for two lots of 25 minute bursts with a five minute break in the middle.

‘Meetup’ writing groups. ‘Meetup’ is a global social networking phenomenon and recently, when invited by a friend to accompany her, I discovered yet another vibrant social writing avenue. Her group meets weekly at a pub in central Sydney where participants write, eat and drink together for 2 hours under the ‘cone of silence’. Thereafter, people mix and socialise as they see fit. I was amazed to discover that these writers included professionals of all kinds, scriptwriters, bloggers – and doctoral students.

Writing retreats are another kind of extended writing together opportunity favoured by doctoral scholars and academics alike. Whether they are highly structured (as described by Rowena Murray) or more organic (see Barbara Grant’s Guide), there’s growing evidence of the value of being able to retreat from the everyday demands and routines of academic life, to spaces entirely dedicated to writing. Susan has written about the pros and cons of writing retreats.

Writing buddies and intimate circles of productivity Finally I’d like to include a plug for the common, but undervalued, practice of hiding oneself away with a colleague/s to write. I’ve been lucky enough to have spent weekends away with doctoral scholars in which we have shared writing, cooking, walking and talking. Pat Thomson’s recent blogs on working with her co-author Barbara Kamler describes the joy (and productivity) of this kind of companionship.

But back at the University of New South Wales’ ‘Shut up and write!’ I overhear a passer-by say (I’m not kidding, I promise!): ‘This is really good. I saw the Research Office advertising … I want to do it – but I don’t have time’.

But that’s the point, isn’t it? – ‘Shut up and write!’ and these other group writing activities are booming because they work especially for those who don’t have time. The popularity of writing in groups is evident everywhere – so if you haven’t already; get yourself into some kind of group writing activity and you will reap the rewards.

And we’d love to know about your own group writing adventures.

Other references:

Aitchison, C., & Guerin, C. (Eds.). (2014). Writing Groups for Doctoral Education and Beyond: Innovations in Practice and Theory. London: Routledge. http://www.tandf.net/books/details/9780415834742/

Grant, B. . (2008). Academic writing retreats: a facilitator’s guide. Sydney: Higher Education Research and Development Society of Australia (HERDSA).

Grant, B., & Knowles, S. (2000). Flights of imagination: Academic women be(com)ing writers. International Journal for Academic Development, 5(1), 6 – 9

Grant, B. M. (2006). Writing in the company of other women: exceeding the boundaries. Studies in Higher Education, 31(4), 483-495. DOI: 10.1080/03075070600800624 http://www.leadershipscolaire.uottawa.ca/documents/Grantonwritingretreats.pdf

 

Just do it!! (and delete the ‘publish or perish’ warning)

Tags

AcWriMo, online writing group, publish or perish, writing boot camp, writing retreat

By Cally Guerin

I was talking to PhD students recently about how they can’t afford to be precious about their writing – that they need to simply see it as something they do as part of their job (or what Aitchison & Lee call the ‘normal business’ of academic life). After the workshop, one of the participants (thanks, Steph!) sent me a comic that she has pinned onto her noticeboard. In it, an academic is explaining that, in academia, we have a saying ‘publish or perish!’. The other person, who is not an academic, responds matter-of-factly: ‘Yeah, we have that too. It’s called “Do your job or get fired”.’

It’s a harsh message, and one that I would be careful of endorsing without reservation. I am fully aware that some academics’ working lives are well set up to allow them to get on with their research and to publish it, while others have such heavy teaching and administration loads that their research output drops off. Nevertheless, anyone enrolled in a PhD does need to get the writing done, and many also want to see their work published. If they are to succeed in these tasks, I think it is very important to discourage two fairly common attitudes towards doctoral writing: firstly, that writing is somehow special and more difficult than other elements of research; and secondly, that writing requires all sorts of particular conditions before one can get down to the work.

I can’t find the reference despite hours of searching, but someone somewhere talked about a writer (was it Asimov?) whose routine preparation for writing was to “Sit down at my desk within reach of the keyboard, hold my hands over the keyboard, and start typing”. I think this is an excellent way to approach the task. (Please let me know if you have any kind of reference or verification for this attribution – I’d prefer to be a bit more scholarly about it!)

We’ve talked in other posts about establishing good writing habits that help us get on with the job (see, for example, New Year resolution: Get the right/write habit), and clarified that really means ‘good for you’. What works for one person’s life context and commitments is not necessarily the answer for someone else. Rising at 5am to write for three hours before breakfast is ideal for some, but not if you are unable to get to bed early or will be met by a crying baby at 5:30am; large quantities of amphetamines might have aided Jean-Paul Sartre, but this technique is unlikely to be sustainable for most of us.

Increasingly, academic writers are taking a disciplined stand, forming various kinds of writing groups and writing to order. Recalcitrant PhD students – and those who simply want to make some speedy writing progress – are joining ‘boot camps’ (see, for example, University of Melbourne and RMIT), where they are focussed on writing as much as possible during set writing periods. This is a model that is based on more peaceful writing retreats (see, for example, the models developed by Barbara Grant and Rowena Murray. Others are taking advantage of the Shut up and Write! movement, while yet more are signing up for Academic Writing Month (AcWriMo). These are all useful ways of getting on with the job of writing as an everyday practice. What I like most of all is that these approaches are pushing along thesis writing, whether that is in a traditional format or as a thesis by publication.

But if one more person mouths the tired cliché ‘publish or perish’ at me, I might well scream. The situation is obviously far more complicated than that simple dichotomy announces, and there are all sorts of reasons one ought to avoid publishing research prematurely (Paré, 2010). So the challenge I’d like to put to you readers is to devise an alternative motto to take its place. Any votes for the new slogan for doctoral writers that needs to replace this? ‘Write it or regret it’, ‘Write for your life’, ‘Stay calm and write’?

Aitchison, C. & Lee, A. (2006). Research writing: problems and pedagogies, Teaching in Higher Education, 11(3): 265-278.

Paré, A. (2010). Slow the presses: concerns about premature publication. In C. Aitchison, B. Kamler & A. Lee (Eds), Publishing Pedagogies for the Doctorate and Beyond, London, UK: Routledge.