Following on from my previous posts for the website PhD2Published, here’s a new one about risk taking in academia. It is partly based on a ‘wonderous’ night of progressive rock with Yes in Glasgow and partly in response to some of my own thoughts this term. Enjoy!

A few weeks ago I indulged another of my slightly off-the-wall passions by heading to Glasgow for a Yes gig. Progressive rock (at least the softer side of this movement) is one of my ever-growing interests. Before discovering these bands I only listened to classical music in the assumption that only poor musicians play rock. How wrong I was! I am always amazed by the dexterity, talent and incredible musicianship of these performers and, even as they get older, their commitment to creating challenging music. For these guys are risk takers. They do not hide behind G,D,C chords or 4/4 time signatures; their music is dangerous, unpredictable and exciting. Through all the perils of tough tempos and impossible lyrics, they strive for excellence while being aware that such risks might necessarily mean that perfection is impossible. As always, I find it inconceivable to disconnect my work from my passions and began to wonder how we might incorporate a level of risk taking into our daily academic lives…read more

Inspired by my students’ recent rehearsal process and conversations with colleagues, I have written a short article on presenting papers at conferences for the website PhD2Published.

‘What is the biggest change in your field in the past hundred years?’ This was the question I faced on Monday 19th September as part of a mock BBC radio panel show. It was the most nerve-wracking moment of an exhilarating and challenging AHRC/BBC media training day in Manchester.

Earlier this year the AHRC and BBC came together to launch the New Generation Thinkers project. It was a search to find young academics with engaging, exciting research. Ten finalists were chosen to represent the best of young academia from across the humanities. Out of this came a number of workshops like the one I attended in Manchester. For me it was a really positive experience, a chance to both reassess the relevance of my research and to receive some extremely helpful media training. It culminated in the chance to pitch our ideas to BBC producers. They provided a good deal of helpful advice, encouraging academics to see themselves as collaborative co-workers, sources of vital information.

The training will prove to be invaluable, particularly as I decide the best way of promoting my first book when it comes out next year. While the book is a piece of theatre history, the intention is to appeal to practitioners and to any interested in the way culture can engage with contemporary society. Speaking through the media (be that radio, television, Twitter or through a blog) seems to be an increasingly important way of reaching out, increasing the profile of academic research and confronting that thorny ‘impact’ element of the REF. (There are lots of good online discussions taking place around this currently: see here for an example).

But, for me, the most important chats of the day actually happened at the tables, over lunch and coffee. Currently we are in the midst of far-reaching conversations about the intentions of the university institution. These have led to a real questioning of the value of a degree, the importance of learning for learning’s sake and the merit of academic research. Anyone who doubts the usefulness and worth of the humanities should have sat in on one of these discussions. They would have seen real passion and a genuine commitment to reaching out to a wider audience. Here at least was a room of early career researchers determined to promote the academic community as engaged and intellectually rigorous, and dedicated to presenting university as a vibrant learning environment for all.

And my response to the unanswerable question we began with? ‘The movement away from theatre as purely entertainment to theatre as politics.’ And before you (quite rightly) question the validity of such a broad claim, it is extremely tough to balance the complex nature of theatre history with the need to be coherent on live radio! Just another important discovery from the workshop.

In a second article for the website phd2published.com, I wanted to briefly explore the issue of interdisciplinarity, why it is important and how we, as the bright young academic things we are (!) can practice it. Whether I will be able to assimilate rock music, yoga and the Victorian novel into a coherent argument, I am still unsure, but I am definitely looking for new ways to analyse and broaden the scope of my own research.

Recently I went to an Iron Maiden gig in Nottingham. Earlier in the day I had attended a yoga class and had then grabbed some sushi for lunch. Not owning an ‘Eddie’ top I decided to wear my Peter Gabriel 2003 tour t-shirt instead. An insightful friend called me ‘eclectic’ and I must admit that in all areas of life I rejoice in my slightly unusual day-to-day combinations: a lover of progressive rock but also a former classical soprano, a devotee of professional wrestling but also a reader of verbose Victorian novels. My friend is clearly right…I am nothing if not eclectic. This approach (call it eccentric if you will) actually impacts my work daily and I am starting to feel its effects more and more keenly.

In my last article for ‘PhD2published’ I briefly mentioned the importance of developing an interdisciplinary approach, of connecting our work with (or at least reading it alongside) the ideas of others outside of our immediate field. In this article I want to briefly begin to explore why and how this can be done.

Why Interdisciplinarity?

More and more universities are encouraging lecturers to work together, collaborating across traditional disciplinary barriers. At my own institution we are thinking about a ‘low wall’ strategy, schools and departments that are inextricably connected together. To develop this perspective early on in our work means that we are already tapping into university agendas.

Going down dark alleys (in the scholarly sense) was a crucial part of my PhD. For me it meant two weeks reading books about Mancunian social history for no other reason than I had become obsessed with Engels’ The Condition of the Working Class. I find that, amidst a sea of marking, funding deadlines and the impending REF (in the UK), we can lose this spirit of adventure. Developing an interdisciplinary approach forces us to retrace our steps down these alleys or find new paths. (Read more)

Recent online discussions in the Guardian (here and here) would suggest that making the transition from PhD candidate/holder to published academic is increasingly important to a growing number of people. If the vast majority of comments are indicative it is not, however, getting any easier. Following the last discussion I was approached by the website phd2published.com to write a piece outlining the transition from my own perspective, which they have published today (19 July).

While commenting on a draft copy of my book, my wonderfully generous proof-reader made me rethink my use of citation with the following soupçon of wit:

The humorous comment also points to a broader issue: the PhD-to-Book process is one of learning, personal development and transforming the way you write. While I completed my PhD in 2007, my first book will only hit the shelves (or shelf on my less ambitious days) next year. This might seem like a large gap and, as I finish the final draft, it certainly feels as if I have spent half a lifetime on it! But, as the story above shows, there is merit in taking your time over this process. There is a great deal of useful material on this site about the PhD-to-Book process, so what I want to do is focus on what to do while you’re waiting. Obviously honing our writing skills and ignoring Dr Dryasdust’s unnecessary interruptions are vital, but what else can be done? (Read more)