Unsupervised

My friend Jessica is about to hand in her PhD, and watching her go through the final throes of editing, footnoting, and formatting has thrown me into vivid flashbacks to this time last year. One thing she has said several times is that she doesn't know what she'll do with herself when she doesn't have this project hanging over her every day. It's a valid question, and I find myself taking stock of how I've spent the last year. But much more than looking back, I face forward, contemplating the blank of an unknown future.

A strange thing happens when you're an aspiring academic with a finished PhD and no job to go to. You have to: 1) come up with proposals for what you'll do next, 2) start publishing articles from what you've already done, and 3) begin the process of turning your dissertation into a book. In between doing those things, you must 4) apply to jobs for which you're not yet an appealing candidate. I've always liked organizing to-do lists into neat spreadsheets, and thus I am building a list of jobs for which even my supervisor says I shouldn't bother applying. Sigh.

So I turn my energy toward publishing, which includes doing new research to add onto what was in my dissertation. This is a thing I can control! I will burn through the work and spit out material so that I will have more citations to my name! Rawr! ... or so I tell myself. It has been refreshing and scary in equal measure to feel my way out onto new ground. For one article, I want to look at what some other Victorian poets were doing, as compared to Tennyson. I realize I know almost nothing about them, so I start poking around some introductory sources. So far, so familiar. Then I start finding relevant bits that I snatch up and hoard like the magpie that I am.

The really unnerving thing is that from here on out, I am literally unsupervised. When I produce a draft of something, I can't hand it to my supervisor for insight into what is innovative or obvious. Many of my original bits of research were suggested to me by others. Now I'm supposed to trust my own instincts, I suppose. And make use of my academic network, such as it is. Right now my nose says: "Sushi?" Okay, maybe that's my stomach. Be right back.

July holidays

When you travel alone, selfies are
a necessary evil.

June wound to a close with me pushing to complete the exam marking I'd been assigned so that I could fly away for summer holiday times. For some reason, the cheapest flight home was on Turkish Airways, so I took a day to see the major sights of Istanbul.

My hostel was right across from the Hagia Sophia, so that was my first stop. I spent all morning strolling slowly around inside, taking photos and listening to my audio tour. I stood on the now-unimpressive spot where sat the throne of the emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire, aka the Byzantine Empire. I nerded out over the carved runic graffiti of a Viking guard. I marveled at the strange juxtaposition of preserved mosaics and peeling plaster.

One arcade of the
spooky underground cistern

Next I poked around one of the underground cisterns, which was surprisingly impressive and eery. I also visited the Archaeology Museum, which had some interesting things, but I must confess that after visiting enough various European museums, it's difficult to muster too much enthusiasm for yet another set of Roman tombstones. I hate myself a little bit for saying that.

I made a pass through the spice market, but the culture of salesmanship does not allow for customers to browse unattended, so I didn't linger at any particular stall. I despaired of being able to relax -- and then... Night fell. Being Ramadan, families came out to have picnics, and the old hippodrome (horse-race track) took on a festive atmosphere with live music, food carts, and a line of stalls akin to a Christmas market, with artisans selling crafts and sweets. I could disappear into the crowd and take everything in without drawing any attention. It was lovely.

Did someone say Turkish delight?

Once back in California, I spent a week throwing together a conference paper, which I duly delivered in Honolulu. Hawaii in July was frankly a bit too hot for comfort, but the experience improved once I got away from Waikiki, staying at an Airbnb place on the north shore, right across from a beach favored by turtles. When I'd had my fill of snorkeling, I returned home for a quick round of catching up with friends before the long trip back to Cambridge. Since finishing my PhD, I haven't made much progress on academic matters, so it's time to send some more things out on the path toward publication. And try not to panic about what to do with my life!