Back to Basics

I suspect it's no surprise that I've always been a bit of a bookworm. So, why did I find myself feeling guilty about reading a book in the middle of the day, far from my computer and other devices?

The other day, I was finishing (re)reading a book, T. Cooper's debut novel, Some of the Parts. I actually stepped out of the office and sat in a chair by the window in the front living room and just read.  At first, I was uncomfortable and felt like there were a million other things I should be doing. I pushed on, reminding myself that I had a goal in reading that book--it's an ensemble novel, as is the other book I was reading this week--Jodi Thomas' The Little Tea Shop on Main.  The unfinished novel I'm working on is an ensemble piece and these two very different books were chosen as my reads to see how other folx deal with multiple protagonists.

Reading those two novels was valuable to my process of getting back into that book. But I still felt guilty about taking time away from my desk to just read. It seemed self-indulgent. So, too, did my getting set up to start working on Octave Thanet this year.

Why the discomfort? After all, for years when I pursued my BA, MA, and PhD, reading and writing about what I read was MY JOB. And, I never feel guilt when reading other people's writing as an editor or helping someone else write. 

Once I entered the world of "professional education"-- as first an adjunct and then as a full-time person and later as an administrator online--the reading and writing had no value other than fitting into a rubric and getting the student to the end goal. The kind of play and discovery encouraged when I was a student didn't belong in the world of professional education.

And for years, the only reading that mattered, it seemed, was what I had to do to prep for class or to grade papers. And, since i worked solely online from 2004-2017, I associate work of value being that which is done sitting in front of a screen--and to be consumed by other people practically instantaneously.

Kind of like this blog versus writing in my journal (which is something else I'm dedicated to doing more of). 

There's nothing inherently wrong with this idea of writing and reading being a means to an end--a degree, a job, whatever. But, the landscape changed. More people are going into higher education with degrees in Educational Leadership. Degrees in Instructional Design and Curriculum are far more popular than degrees in literature or history.

I trained for years--from 1988 to 2001--to be a reader and writer. I didn't train to churn out professionals in other fields who can write a coherent essay. Yet, that's largely what my teaching life consisted of. In the beginning years, I held on to what I was trained to do and continued to publish in my field. But over the years, working on things that weren't connected to a pay check became self-indulgence.

After all, with a 100% teaching contract, publishing wasn't going to get me a promotion, nor was it truly valued. At best, my publishing and inquiry in my field were used as a "see, your Composition and Literature professor is an active professional in their field." And, as the years went on, the tools I needed to keep going kept getting taken away. The schools kept cutting access to the types of databases needed for research. After all, students at the undergrad level don't need the MLA Bibliography.

The instructors need those resources and connections to their training to carry on their professional lives. In many ways, I needed them to preserve my sanity. When Dani was in medical school, I still had access to libraries. And, now that I'm a member of the National Coalition of Independent Scholars, I can get access to things like J-Stor at a discount. My membership card can help grease the hinges to doors of university libraries, I hear.

All of this to say this--I'm not going to feel guilty about reading in the middle of the day or that working toward a critical biography of Octave Thanet is self-indulgence.  I spent a ton of money and a ton of time training for this. So, it's time to get on with the work.