I’ve spent a week or so rewriting parts of my rejected paper and generally reformatting it and refitting the different components together. I knew revising papers for the 9462805639874568025th time is nauseating, but I didn’t know it was this nauseating. I feel like being sick right onto my keyboard.

There is still a LOT of pressure on doctoral researchers to publish before they submit as a way of getting a leg up onto the metaphorical academic ladder. The many who submit their thesis and only think about writing up for publication later seem to have a kind of hopeless stereotype attached to them wherein the mundane work teaching freshers on introductory courses drains so much intellectual energy from them they never end up getting round to doing it.

Hence, my ongoing publication pitfall panic. I’ve started seriously worrying that I’ll fall into this publicationless ditch and never get out, and spend the rest of my days hopping from one research assistantship to another, producing great research for other people while my own worthwhile work collects dust in the filing cabinet.


I knew papers are hard to write, but I didn’t know it was this hard.

Keep writing, keep writing, keep writing.