Yes, this is my second post today. Sometimes I lie low for weeks on end and sometimes my mind races at breakneck speed.

I’ve been starting to think maybe the ‘inspirationlessness’ comes from the fact I am writing a thesis rather than a paper, or series of papers. It has always tickled me how futile a thesis seems when most theses are only ever read by a pair of examiners, and are subsequently bound and filed away on some lofty shelf in the British Library to collect dust til Kingdom come. Most theses are never read by anyone other than the people who examined them. There seems to be nothing to hope for, nothing to strive for in writing them.

Hello there, PhD. I realise now that whatever work I have done on you these last 2 years, I have done because I have strived for it to be read by people other than my eventual examiners. I have a paper published and a paper under review that both came from you, and although they have been rewritten to suit their respective journals, they contain the basis upon which quite a lot of you will eventually be written.

Actually, they contain about 100 pages of the basis of the thesis. Yikes.

I bet I can write this if I write it as a paper. I bet writing would be a lot easier if we reminded ourselves we do have the choice to publish our work, to make it actually useful to the world, even if only in a minute way.

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