Thinking aloud
So I'm in the middle of trying to write an article, and I'm not happy with it, and that means it's major procrastination time. I hate writing anyway, particularly trying to describe data that's in a table, because I still have to do more of the work describing the data than I think I ought. I've set up the table to make the data show its story in the clearest way I can, without fudging awkward bits, and it took a day to do that - do I really need to do much more? I do, because now I need to sell my interpretation of the data story, and I don't like it because it's hard, and hard to do well, and difficult to make interesting (while acknowledging all the awkward and fiddly bits without letting them get in the way too much).
Another problem is that I don't like to feel uncertain about anything that I say - I'm not safe without a big lump of data that makes what I say solid and grounded. I don't like to go out on a limb. But in this article, I don't *have* a big lump of data - I have a small lump that only tells part of a much bigger story, and the historiography is pretty minimal on this topic in this period, so in a way I'm creating the limb I'm going out on. That is not a safe feeling.
I read Mrs Munt's blog at Alla Poppy and it made me ask myself whether I should approach the article like a piece of creative writing (which of course it is, really). My favourite technique for getting things going* is to start with an incident, or to tell the story of a particular person, and then start in with the historiography, and then get to the big question - which I suppose is a bit like starting with Batman socking people on a rooftop, and then something sinister happening with the Joker. Then you do the methodology etc., which is the part where we go back to Bruce Wayne's parents being killed in an alley. But there's no big climax, just a wishy-washy conclusion that says, well, this looks as if this, but we must be very cautious.
I think I would prefer it if I could withdraw this article altogether, but... I must publish, and I need to force myself to write even if I do have wishy-washy conclusions. Instinct says withdraw, brain says you really ought to do this cos this is how successful people manage things, and your instinct is always to draw your horns in - you ought to challenge that.
*I have always been hopeless at opening lines. I once began an undergraduate essay on the Elizabethan religious settlement with the sentence 'Queen Elizabeth came to the throne in 1558 and reigned until she died in 1603'.
Another problem is that I don't like to feel uncertain about anything that I say - I'm not safe without a big lump of data that makes what I say solid and grounded. I don't like to go out on a limb. But in this article, I don't *have* a big lump of data - I have a small lump that only tells part of a much bigger story, and the historiography is pretty minimal on this topic in this period, so in a way I'm creating the limb I'm going out on. That is not a safe feeling.
I read Mrs Munt's blog at Alla Poppy and it made me ask myself whether I should approach the article like a piece of creative writing (which of course it is, really). My favourite technique for getting things going* is to start with an incident, or to tell the story of a particular person, and then start in with the historiography, and then get to the big question - which I suppose is a bit like starting with Batman socking people on a rooftop, and then something sinister happening with the Joker. Then you do the methodology etc., which is the part where we go back to Bruce Wayne's parents being killed in an alley. But there's no big climax, just a wishy-washy conclusion that says, well, this looks as if this, but we must be very cautious.
I think I would prefer it if I could withdraw this article altogether, but... I must publish, and I need to force myself to write even if I do have wishy-washy conclusions. Instinct says withdraw, brain says you really ought to do this cos this is how successful people manage things, and your instinct is always to draw your horns in - you ought to challenge that.
*I have always been hopeless at opening lines. I once began an undergraduate essay on the Elizabethan religious settlement with the sentence 'Queen Elizabeth came to the throne in 1558 and reigned until she died in 1603'.