The blank page, the biggest obstacle to my success.
I’ve been thinking about this post for 4 years. I’ve reworked what I want to say countless times on my walk to and from the lab and considered ways to tie it all together while laying in bed staring at the ceiling, but, until last week, I didn’t know how, or even when, it would begin.
I’ve put off writing about blank pages and my writing struggles because it so often begins with me staring at, and subsequently backing away from, a blank page. Did I mention I have a problem writing when faced with a blank page?
By late 2010 I had a full molecular DNA dataset prepared and analysed for my Master’s that showed some interesting relationships among the flies I study, and I proceeded to write up the results for my thesis. I moved on to the other major chapter of my thesis, and then defended my work. The whole thing was well received by my committee, and I was granted my degree in 2011 with the expectation that I’d make a few relatively minor changes and then submit the chapters for formal peer-review.
Well, after the final few months of pushing to get my thesis ready to defend, I needed to decompress and had no desire to look at my work for awhile. I figured after a few weeks of doing something — anything — else, I’d be ready to come back and reanalyse the data, rewrite the paper and submit my work to an appropriate journal, and then never have to look at it again. Instead, I got busy working on other projects, writing a book, teaching, and then eventually starting my PhD, all the while having this paper hanging over my head, like a rusty guillotine just waiting to fall.
It wasn’t long until every word I wrote for the blog, for grant applications, or even emails elicited an increasingly larger pang of guilt that those words should be going towards that paper, to the point that nearly every aspect of my life was tainted by anxiety over it.
For nearly 4 years I let it slide while busying myself with other projects and tasks, telling myself that next week will be the week that I look at it again, until this fall when (with a not-so-subtle nudge from my PhD committee) I forced myself to get it done, or perhaps die trying. After all new analyses, totally redrawn figures, and about a dozen written drafts spanning several months, I finally submitted the paper two weeks ago. The feeling of relief when I finally pressed that submit button came immediately, and I finally realized that I hadn’t been devoting my full attention to any of my other projects or responsibilities.
So why bring all this up now when the paper hasn’t even gone out for review, and will undoubtedly require more work post-review before I can finally be done with it? Because I need to get over my hesitancy to put my thoughts on paper (or whatever this digital equivalent of paper should be called), and I suspect I’m not the only one who faces these obstacles.
My qualifying exams are coming up, which means several weeks of intense studying followed by days of writing compelling papers in a set amount of time, on demand. I’ve always approached this blog as a tool for self-improvement, so I plan to continue using it to force myself to write more frequently, to get past my fear of that blank page.
And for anyone out there currently in the midst of graduate work or projects that require writing, don’t let that blank page stand in your way: all it takes is one word scribbled down to defeat it.
Fantastic post Morgan, thanks I should also do the same about my other MSc pub. Best of luck with the prelim!
Thanks Miles, and I’m glad you enjoyed the post!
Bonne courage! I blog every day and have done for nearly 8 years now. I know that if I stop, I won’t take it up again. The discipline of doing even a few lines every day has worked for me. I find that in general, the more you write, the more you find to write about. Of course, periodically I go through periods were everything seems terribly banal, but something exciting always comes along to zing things up again. I find writing a piece in my head too many times without getting at least a draft on paper very quickly is fatal. The words and ideas go stale and the end result is clunky and dull. Beware of perfectionism and of reading and re-reading what you’ve written! In my experience this is a displacement activity.
Excellent, Morgan. I’m like Susan – if I didn’t blog regularly, I know I’d be facing the blank page very regularly. TOO many projects would be left undone because “just starting” is very, very tricky. This issue about the blank page is common at all levels of education, although perhaps more pronounced for grad students, post-docs & profs, because of the importance of peer-reviewed papers.
Part of the problem, I think, is that the ‘manuscript’ can be less than exciting to write (at times), and therefore it’s an easy job to put off. Some days I wish we could insert a more casual and fun style into manuscripts and this would make papers easier to write (and easier to read!). I don’t see that happening anytime soon… Again, that’s why the blogging is so great: keeps the wheels greased and allows the more creative and fun writing style to emerge, thus making it a bit easier to write manuscripts, when required. Anyway – great post, Morgan. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks Morgan. So true. Write. Write anything. Just freaking write.
Good luck on your quals.
~Kai
I’m not sure how I missed this when it was first posted, but I’m glad I found it.
I remember those days back when I was a youngster. I wanted to write but didn’t know what to write or how to start. When I finally got started I didn’t think my writing was very good. Eventually I realized that I actually could write pretty well, but it required endless agonizing over each word. I hated the time it took to write something, but when I got it write that gave me the satisfaction I needed and the motivation to continue. Moreover, I was polishing and improving my writing skills. And, the more I wrote, the more I learned and the better I became at synthesizing bigger pictures, which gave me even more to write about. Eventually, the volume of thoughts I needed to get out of my head far outstripped the time I could spend writing. I had to get more efficient, so I stopped trying to make everything that I wrote be perfect. And you know what? My writing didn’t get worse – I just got faster. All of that training had not only taught me how to write, but how to do it “off the cuff”. Now, I can’t wait to write. I don’t have nearly enough time to write everything I want to write about, but the time I do spend writing is fast, efficient, and supremely satisfying. I’ve spent a lifetime working up to this point, after starting out in a place where it seemed like becoming a good writer was the last thing I was capable of doing. Writing skills have much in common with athletics – regular training is required to improve, and improvements motivate further training. I sucked the first time I rode a bike, and now I regularly hand it to guys 30 years younger than me. Likewise, my Master thesis is incredibly wordy and awkward despite the months I poured into it, but now I can pound out a 1,000 word post or a manuscript discussion in a few hours and be quite content with it.