Sunday, November 4, 2007

at AAS

As tired as the subject is, I’ve spent a lot of time of late trying to figure out why dissertating feels so daunting to me. I see others do it everyday. I live with a dissertating roommate. I date a dissertating boyfriend. Many of my friends have dissertated to the point of completion. And still, it feels utterly overwhelming to me, and I’ve become fixated on the desire to pinpoint the moment when writing went from something that gave me pleasure – and in this weird blogisphere and in my personal letters it still does – to the nadir of my existence. Sadly I’m beginning to think it might just be the aggregate effect of six years of graduate school, several relationships with writers, and a slowly dwindling conviction about my innate ability. But as is often the case, as I was trying to articulate this last night to the aforementioned dissertating boyfriend, I realized that there’s this radical disjunction between my continued ability to make strong claims orally (my inclination is not to shy away from even somewhat hostile conversations) and my writing paralysis. I suspect that the inevitable record of the latter terrifies me, that I could be looked up, proved wrong, laughed at. In the former I can still muster energy and concentration, knowing that no one remembers any conversation for that long, though perhaps it may be wholly the result of being a fairly social-competent women in a field of social incompetents. That may be unfair to say, but come on. Talking aside, I think I’m also missing the key to writing: bravado (or something more like necessary arrogance). I know I once had it, or at least a healthy dose of confidence in the fact that I had something to say and that I could say it in a compelling way. Now all I can think is that while I may have something I think I want to say, I don’t trust that it’s right or interesting or relevant, and I certainly don’t trust that I can write anything in a compelling way (writing about not writing aside). I have to believe, though, that there must be a way to get it back. I keep hoping that I might stumble across a book or a person who could clear this all up, who could tell me to take two vitamin E capsules and to switch shampoos and then whoosh I’d be cured...

3 comments:

Maura said...

Hee hee. I was in the room that you share a bathroom with. Isn't that shared bathroom thing strange? I HATE the noise from the street. And that shower. Is tomorrow your first day in the library?

EAL said...

Is that an Ed Beyer print on the wall?

I think knowing you have something to say is 90% of the battle. And you do! The right words will come.

Lost said...

I completely agree, you absolutely always have the right ideas and words. I think you're right, you often use your conversations to talk through great ideas, but then are afraid to let them show up in print. Innate ability, by the way, is overrated. "Prairie Home Companion" made that point this weekend.

btw, if you see any celebrating Patriot fans while in Boston, smack them for me. My beloved Colts SO should have beat them.