Month: September 2014

My future plans for study and growth

scholarHaving just moved to Portland from the midwest, it’s obvious I’m looking to start a new life. Well, a new chapter. I like my life, and most of what’s in it, so I don’t want a new one. Just, improved. Full disclosure, a large part of the “deal” with moving here is so that my wife can find her own new life. I won’t go into detail as that’s her story to tell. But, suffice it to say, much of my role, at least initially here, is to support her in her search and discovery. And I’m happy to do so! But, while I’m looking for that elusive and decent-paying tech job, I do have some of my own goals — some I’m already working on. . . .

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m working on the sequel to Singularity Deferred. And, just moments ago, I finished two intense chapters of it and feel really good about where it’s going. I’m making a decision about its structure that fans of the first novel may find annoying, or really like — we’ll see. Anyway, that’s my main personal goal right now. But, ennui, dissatisfaction, the draw and tease of scholarly subjects, many influences have made me pine for grad school. I miss it. I miss the research, the studying, the reading, the papers, the learning and developing and widening and understanding of things…. I miss it something terrible.

Of course there’s no reason to stop learning and developing! Of course. But since graduating with my Masters, it’s felt like a demarcation, a transition from “scholar” back to working drone, and the old habits and floundering. (Although, like I said, I’m somewhat pleased that I’ve been writing semi-regularly, still!)

Today, it hit me hard. I was reminded of my work in mediated experience in a postmodern world, and the writers I used to research and use, and discovered new books by them… and I felt the need, the absolute need, to continue to study them, model them, and carry on my own scholarship and add to the discourse.

Part of me has been in wait. I’ve known since before I graduated in 2010 (oh my god!) that my next step was to be a PhD from Trent University in Ontario. Their Cultural Studies department is enviable and arguably the best in North America. Either their “culture and tech” or “culture and theory” course of study, I can’t yet decide. But, I figured that’d be something I’d do after our daughter graduated high school, three years from now. Sure, by that time I’d likely be one of the oldest PhD candidates they probably have (I was one of the oldest MA students MSU’s English department had), but I don’t care. I can’t let the unstoppable passage of time and my advancing age prevent me from seeking my goals. After all, how many people take up and climb mountains mid- and post-mid-life? Explore other countries? Take up diving and explore the ocean bottom? Why can’t my graduate degrees be my Mount Everest?

But will Trent happen? Even in three years? I’m in Portland now, and Portland is my home. Sure, I could move to Ontario for 2 to 3 years, then come back. But will I? Sure, if I want it enough, and can afford it….

But then, if I want it enough, why wait until then? Why not start now? Why wait until I enroll in a new school? Do Sherry Turkle or Katherine Hayles or Slavoj Zizek or Hardt and Negri wait to get yet another degree before they research and write their next books?! Of course not! They are scholars, and that’s what it means to be a scholar. You research, study, synthesize, and contribute now, despite where and when you are. Why can’t I do that now?

Soon I will have another mind and body sapping job in order to pay the bills, and I will have to conform and contort my writing and scholarship around that. To do that, I’ll have to give up other distractions: Facebook for the most part, TV and movies, sleep. But it’s not enough, for me, just just proclaim abstinence from distraction, find the latest book on posthuman cultural criticism and read… I need focus, goals, a program and a plan. I need to create my own doctorate program. No, I won’t get more letters I can put after my name from it, but that doesn’t matter. Zizek doesn’t get a new degree for every new topic he researches and then writes a book on. Just as I can’t in good conscience call myself “a writer” unless I’m actually writing, I can’t call myself “a scholar” unless I’m doing the work of scholarship. And I know myself well enough to know I’m unlikely to engage in actual scholarship (and commenting on Facebook articles is not scholarship), unless I have a plan and structure and goalposts.

And so, before work takes up most of my time and energy, I need to get to work creating my own personal PhD program. I feel excited, challenged…happy at the prospect!

…starting and editing a regular literary journal has been a goal of mine for a few years now–I wonder how to incorporate that.

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Portland, I’m in you. To stay.

yay oregonI despise “update” blog entries, but I set myself up for that every time I take such huge breaks from blogging. A lot has happened in the last several months, and I owe it to my fans (all those faithful comment-spam bots that lovingly message every day), to update what’s been going on. I’m sure if John Scalzi ever took a break from blogging for a month or 9, he’d update, yeah? Well, I promise I will try to keep this brief and just the highlights….

So, a few months ago my family and I, and a very close couple, jointly decided to sell most everything we own and move from the midwest to Portland, Oregon. How did it go? Well, we’re here, we have a town house (aka glorified 3-floor apartment), my wife has a job she likes (yay!) and I have been fielding a slew of “1st interviews” with promises of 2nd interviews that tend to not come. These are interviews for places doing jobs in the world of Web development — the field that has been earning my family money since 1998. It’s a field that I enjoy, have enjoyed, but I’m desperately sick of. But, it’s the only thing I know how to do that earns a modicum of money, and it’s money that we have to trade for shelter and food and entertainment, so….

In the meantime, I’ve been trying to write as much as I can. Frequenting coffee shops until I find The Comfortable One and writing a chapter or two of the sequel to Singularity Deferred. My goal is to have it completed and edited by the end of 2014. Then, come 2015, I can go gangbusters on marketing and selling parts 1 and 2 and earn a bit of monies from that. (I have hope. I’ve done virtually no marketing and promotion of book 1, and I still get a small royalty “check” from Amazon and Smashwords each month. Well, enough to buy a couple of my iced mochas at least. But that makes me curious what can be done with some real marketing.) By the way, it kills me that I sell copies every month, but get virtually no reviews, good, bad, or otherwise.

Okay, that last couple paragraphs felt like some self-pitying kvetching. So, let’s move along….

Portland! Why? Because of “Portlandia” maybe? Heh, no. I lived a brief time, as a kid, in Washington, and I knew ever since then I would come back. I loved the weather, I loved the mountains, the ocean, the…”vibe” for lack of a less squishy word. And the art and culture and “vibe” I have kept an eye on coming from Portland and Eugene ever since has always been in the back of my mind as a land I must pilgrimage to. The idea of moving to Oregon, Portland even, never formed much more than a fleeting thought, but the seed was planted back in 1980, ready to be watered.

It’s been 4 weeks here, and despite the rough and troubles and bit of chaos in areas of work, family, household, etc…. I know as certainly as I knew after the first week and a half: I’m home.

I grew up in Colorado, mainly, and I will always consider it my foundational home. My place of origin, the place that will always be in my heart. And when my family moved me to Missouri as a teen, I knew despite all the other moves in my youth, that one was going to stick for a while — and I did not like it one bit. Never have. Sure, the Ozarks have some beauty to them. And I’ve met all my current friends, and my wife, and the things and people that are important to me, in Missouri. But I have never, once ever, felt like Missouri was home. It was my place of exile. I’ve only been in Oregon a month, I have experienced a tiny swath of the land and the insane variety of the landscapes and terrain it holds, a tiny sampling of the city and the people and the culture, visited the ocean once and walked among the trees a smidge… and  I know I’m here to stay.

A couple of days ago while visiting a park (that was more like a national forest situated in the middle of a city), my friend and I spoke with a native with adorable dogs, and she has observed, dealing with many people in her career, that Portland seems to draw in a lot of people, but then spit back out a lot of people “who don’t belong.” I don’t know what Portland, or Oregon, feel are the belonging people (wry grin), but I feel I belong. So this place is going to have to spit me out while kicking and screaming.

Some points of interest being here: Red and Black Cafe, will need to visit more often. Powell’s Bookstore, wow! I will be seeing William Gibson there next month! *swoon* Guardian Games, which is huge and fascinating! And loud and annoying. I’m making Rainy Day Games my gaming home. They also have a huge selection of disc golf equipment, which I’ve wanted to get into for some time.

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