Process Letter to My Second Reader 5.4: Thesis Submission

Dear XXXXX,

I trust you are well, ready to do this all over again? It’s been a (mostly) good three months since we last spoke—in LA, back from LA, sunny there, maybe snow here tonight… But the trip was good, and the news was optimistic, so that’s good.

You now hold in your hands my thesis draft entitled Stalking America. Hopefully it’s noticeably shorter. I cut over twenty-five pages from the total page count, mostly through cuts, tailoring, minor character deletions (and I have to confess, excessive white spaces), on top of the 50 or so pages I cut in the time surrounding residency and leading up to sending you my first draft. There was a lot of condensing. My main focus was integrating the stories (or as XXXXX1 calls it: cross-pollinating). I also changed the order around in a number of scenes. These should be obvious, but I didn’t track all of those changes in this document when they were too big, because Word’s notes made the manuscript virtually unreadable at that point. Those and everything else should be clear though. I’m new to ‘tracking changes.’ Does it always look like this? And then it prints out so tiny, new fangled technology.

Process Letter to My Advisor 5.3

Dear XXXXX,

How’s life? So I’ve been back in New York for a couple days, and on the first night it actually snowed! Can you believe it? In the morning it was around 80 degrees in Louisiana and by the time we drove up north it was snowing… So anyway I am home. Buffalo. The return drive cross-country is never as much fun as the initial drive out. We planned on spending a day in New Orleans this time (never been), but by Sonora, Texas we were both sick and had to be resigned to bed rest at the La Quinta in Baton Rouge. There’s nothing worse (okay I’m sure there are many things) than being sick in a roadside motel on a road trip, so at that point we loaded up on vitamin c and took marathon shifts driving back up the coast. It’s kind of a blur of small towns after that point, but we’re back (and missing the sun we had in LA).

Letter From Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse

M and I were talking about this, so he sent me a copy of it. I thought I’d put it here, because it’s good advice:

Dear Eva,

It will be almost a month since you wrote to me and you have possibly forgotten your state of mind (I doubt it though). You seem the same as always, and being you, hate every minute of it. Don’t! Learn to say “Fuck You” to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, grasping, confusing, itchin, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, numbling, rumbling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eyeing, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding, grinding, grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO!

Process Letter to My Advisor 5.2

Dear XXXXX,

How have you been? I’ve been in LA for almost a week and spent my birthday somewhere in Oklahoma. Working on this packet while sitting next to the hot tub has been a nice change from Buffalo winter…er… as that’s not my usual practice. Now I’m at the conference and finishing up. Today was mostly people presenting papers on panels and Friday is Robert Irwin. I’m staying at the Biltmore for the next several days, which I have come to discover was the site of a couple of early Oscars ceremonies, oh and the last location the Black Dahlia was seen alive before her murder. It’s kind of glamorous in an old hotel way with elaborate ceilings and fountains (the sphinxes have very large breasts… which led me to realize I am indeed in LA), but the rooms themselves are rather lackluster or standard I guess. After the conference we go back to staying at M’s parent’s place to the south of the city.

Process Letter to My Second Reader 5.1

I sent out the first draft of my manuscript to my advisor and second reader six days ago, and already heard back from my second reader. I have a lot of work ahead of me… Here’s one of the letters I mailed out:

Dear XXXXX,

How have you been? I’m excited to work with you! Thanks. Things are good back in Buffalo. Snowy. It’s been about -12 every night, so it feels like I never left Vermont. I am looking forward to the drive out to LA in February. Ah, sunshine and beach. Again, the dates for LA are Feb. 14th (3-4 day drive out) and we plan on driving back in the beginning of March (but this may change depending on how well my boyfriend’s step dad is doing with his chemo). We may opt to stay longer. Either way, I’ll have my own space to work in there and don’t have a problem buckling down and doing work in strange places.

Process Letter to My Advisor 4.5

Dear XXXXX,

Wow, the semester is over. Does it feel like we’ve worked together for a year (at least academic-wise)? Thanks for the feedback last packet. I’m just happy that I’m done with my Teaching Practicum, Long Critical, Short Criticals, and annotations (everything now is above and beyond). Oh, and as of now I pretty much have a draft (more or less) of my manuscript, that if I spend the next two months rewriting, will almost be a readable first draft by the beginning of next semester.

Process Letter to My Advisor 4.4

Dear XXXXX,

How have you been? Thanks for the extension. It helped a lot, but I’m still sick… and I don’t really have much to say. I’m ready to not be sick anymore. I am done with my teaching packet and really happy to be able to move on and finally focus completely on finishing my manuscript. I feel like this teaching practicum was hanging over my head as a distraction and the process became more difficult than it needed to be.