Bank Holiday Monday
I hate my dissertation. It is currently the written equivalent of gurning. The whole thing makes me want to stick pins in my eyes. It is hot and sunny out. I am not out. I am in here. I am writing. I have just come to the conclusion that the conclusion of my dissertation should have been obvious to the merest sliver of brainless brain even before I started. This is not good. I need an ice cream. And possibly a kick up the arse.
Dissertation is at least engendering thoughts, e.g. —
[AN OBSERVANT READER WILL NOTE THAT THESE ARE NOT REALLY TO DO WITH NINETEENTH-CENTURY ACTRESSES]
clamorousvoice View All →
Dr Sophie Duncan is Fellow in English at Christ Church, University of Oxford. She works regularly as a historical advisor and as a dramaturg for theatre, TV, radio and film. She likes theatre, detective fiction and cocktails.
Fear driven by multiple drafts, cuts, re-structuring, etc. is a good fear, I think. And it’s often easy, after you’ve been immersed in a specific area of research for so long, to forget how what seems so unquestionably obvious to you is, while maybe not earth-shaking, still a discovery for the reader. It’s not as if you’re trying to re-invent the wheel (it’s late, ignore cliché), you’re illuminating and re-orienting a viewpoint of it (aren’t you? Or have I totally misconstrued the purpose of a thesis?). Regardless, it’s obvious that you’ve made excellent use of what’s been offered to you by the university to create a piece that’s been engendered by what you’re drawn to. Cheese and fluff, I know, but I feel that it must be somewhat true.
I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS FONT.
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