Tag Archives: phd

Helen Marshall: Have Fluency in Ecclesiastical Latin, Will Travel

Helen Marshall Author PhotoWhen I was a kid I genuinely thought everyone who wrote books had died a long time ago. Like the dinosaurs. I had never seen a writer. I figured people didn’t write books anymore.

(soon-to-be Dr) Helen Marshall

When
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Exegesis, Part the Second: Memory

More from my PhD Exegesis, wherein I consider the ideas of memory at work in Sourdough and Other Stories.
Part Two: Memory

‘The sight of the inn picks at the stitches of my memory. The splintered shingle, emblazoned with a faded golden
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Avaunt, with floppy hat

… or exit stage right, or something.

Yes, finally, last Tuesday I graduated. The PhD whinge shall never be heard again.

It was a good night. Flowers from Brain arrived just before we left home for QPAC. My family (Parentals,
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At last …

After five or so years of stress, here it is.

Beautifully bound by the nice man at Able Bookbinders.

On Monday, it shall be submitted and then it’s all over bar the floppy hat-wearing ceremony. Read more…

PhD …

… my Examiners’ Reports arrived on Tuesday night – one receommending no changes, the other recommending minor changes.

Meeting with the Most Delightful Supervisors Ever, Viv and Donna, next week to discuss plan of attack.

Huzzah – July graduation and I get
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A bumblebee, accessorised

Well, it seems the PhDoom, aka the Michael Meyers Memorial PhD (it keeps coming back, no matter how many axes or knives you apply to its spine) is done.

My darling supervisors have been wonderful and very patient – much love
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Sweet mother of crap

I am STILL – AGAIN – reworking PhD minor rewrites and I swear all I’m doing is polishing a turd.

I would throw myself on my eighteenth century fainting couch and howl, but Mr Hanky already got there.

*despairs*

PhDery … almost done

So, on Friday I did my final seminar for PhD – which is the penultimate torture before the torture of sending it out to examiners.

It was easily the worst presentation I’ve ever done – but equally, it doesn’t count for
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At long last

Here it is, the damned thing. All bound and delivered to the postgrad office, with only one minor heart attack when I found the doors of said office closed. This is, of course, not the end. There will
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Fumbling towards the PhD

Is me.

I’m in final stage PhDery, fumbling, mumbling, grumbling and scrambling towards the end of it all.

Today I will be breaking a cardinal rule and using my write club time to produce the Conclusion to the reflective essay. Pete will
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