Why The MBA Is Relatively Useless

I realize that I am about to review a book that is a few years old, and one that has come under a lot of criticism by others in what I call the “academic business profession” and in business circles. The reason for this is likely because Henry Mintzberg – the books author – says that a paradigm shift is needed in the way we educate managers. Paradigm shifts, weather in science, philosophy, or communication are always controversial and always attacked, because they challenge the status quo and entrenched interests. Since there has been so little change in the way MBAs are taught over the decades, it is no surprise that some people suggest Mintzberg lost his marbles.

Mintzberg’s basic problem with management education is that it is completely separate from the actual running of a business. Students are generally given a case study to analyze and come up with a solution to the case study’s company’s problem. What should an organization do with a factory that is no longer productive? What should a company do with a particular asset class?  How does a company deal with shrinking profit margins? What does a manager do with such and such employee? These case studies are about 25 pages long – and from the reading the student is supposed to come up with some solution and make a decision. That’s it. That’s what most management professors think management is – and hence what most MBA students think being a manager is.

"The trouble with “management” education is that it is business education, and leaves a distorted impression of management. Management is a practice that has to blend a good deal of craft (experience) with a certain amount of art (insight) and some science (analysis)" (p. 1)

Of course the problem is that this way of teaching management is sterile and void of any actual context. Organizations are – depending on how you want to look at them – intricate systems wherein sensemaking must happen ala Weick, or continuing cultures created and sustained by communication, practices, and performances, or places where power is both sought, fought, and transgressed. (Most organizational communication scholars will tell you it’s a combination of all these.) 

From a cultural perspective – all organizations are different cultures. Think of the differences between Apple and Microsoft. Or Starbucks and McDonalds. Or Coke and Pepsi. Or a Pentecostal church and a Southern Bapitst church. There are, in fact, as many different organizational cultures as there are organizations. As organizational communication scholars have been arguing for thirty or so years, you cannot understand an organizational culture, without studying that culture in-depth: generally through one of he many varieties of ethnographic research. 

Think about this for a moment. MBA students sit in a classroom and ‘study’ an organization on paper and are supposed to come up with a solution to some sort of organizational dilemma. This type of teaching is well-adapted to get students to do only one thing: do case studies in a classroom. Much like k-12 standardized testing, there’s no ‘there’ there. What they learn by analyzing a case study is about a useful in the real world of managing as filling in the little dots on a standardized test are to successfully going on a date. They are supposed to make a contextless decision. This is Mintsberg’s basic critique.

"An education that overemphasizes the science encourages a style of managing I call “calculating” or, if the graduates believe themselves to be artists, as in- creasing numbers now do, a related style I call “heroic.” Enough of them, enough of that. We don’t need heroes in positions of influence any more than technocrats" (p. 1).

However, businesses aren’t like that. Not at all. They are not static, but constantly on the move. They have different systems, different cultures, different values, different employees, etc., etc. etc. Hence the MBA as taught looks nothing like – and doesn’t prepare people – to actually be managers. Supposedly these MBAs with no experience can walk into an organization and just start making major decisions and taking over.

That’s somewhat crazy if you think about it. You would never let a medical student who’s only done ‘the book learnin’ perform open-heart surgery on you. However, this is exactly what MBA students are taught to think and how business teacher teach them to think. Someone without experience is not going to be trusted to make big decisions: like closing a factory or dismantling a department.

"Put differently, trying to teach management to someone who has never managed is like trying to teach psychology to someone who has never met another human being" (p. 9)

A real manager spends copious amount of time on the floor of the factory, talking with the many people that work in various departments – having conversations with both internal and external clients and customers. He might even check out other factories in his own organization to find out why those particular ones run well, while this one does not. He may check out competitor’s businesses to see how they are run differently. In other words, a real manager gets a deep cultural and organizationally significant education and understanding of the business before he makes any decision.

This is the opposite of what MBA programs teach. No ‘book learnin’ via case study is going to help. It’s like teaching. I may have an idea of how I want to teach a class – maybe a technique that’s dialogical – but the demands of, the size of, and the culture of a particular class may determine that this technique does not work. If that technique is the only one I have in my toolbox, my class is going to be a complete disaster. Embedded adaptation is key.

"In the larger organizations especially, success depends not on what the managers themselves do, as allocators of resources and makers of decisions, so much as on what they help others to do" (p. 9)

Mintzberg correctly points out that making decisions is a really small part of a manager’s job. What he doesn’t mention enough for my taste – and this is my communication bias talking here – is, well, communication. Communication takes up the better part of any manager’s job. Getting to know people, watching their performances (not performance appraisals, mind you, but the way in which people work), the stories and narratives people tell and listen too, the people who are considered heroes in the organization, as well as those considered outcasts. Managing, at its heart is all communication, and learning-on-the job, and then using what one has learned to make decisions than must be made.

“To develop a reflective turn of mind, the participants focus on them- selves, their work, and their world, to appreciate how they think, act, and manage; how they cope with the stresses of being a manager; and how they learn from experience to become more discerning—more “critical” in the constructive sense of this word” (p. 300).

So what does Mintzberg suggest? Well, here’s where he gets a lot of push back. Management education should be restricted to practicing managers. The classroom should leverage the managers’ experience. Managers have to be exposed to theories so they can learn to be thoughtful and express themselves. Thoughtful reflection is necessary. Learning is not doing. Learning is reflecting on doing. Move beyond reflection in the classroom to learning from the impact on the organization.    

However, if you consider the art and practice of managing, Mintzberg is on the right track. Which is why I think this would be a great read for #commnerds studying organizational communication. After all, culture and power and performance is what we actually study.

Marissa Mayer and the Continued Idea of the False Choice

Marissa Mayer is a powerful and successful woman who worked at Google – one of the original Googleheads, in fact – and accepted the opportunity to fix and run Yahoo! and is having a child.

The media has gone crazy over this. Forbes. The Washington Post. The Sun-Times...and...et al. As is typical, it is all the same focus when they realize a woman has attained some sort of position of power. They did it with Carly Fiorena and Hillary Clinton, and even Sarah Palin. (Mind you, I wouldn’t put Sarah with these other women in any other list. There’s no contest there.) More on Fiorena, below.

Can she do the job? Is she a bad example for "our children?" Should women hate her? Why isn’t she taking a full maternity leave? If she can have it all, why can't you? Is she a bad mother-to-be? Should parents hate her? Blah, blah, blah.

I’m waiting for TMZ to start asking questions about the size of her breasts, how much she craves chocolate, and her favorite movie. 

There is really only one thing worth thinking about in regard to her maternity leave decision: Due to her economic position, she can do it all, because she has the opportunity to do it all.

It is true that the educationally and economically disadvantaged do not have the choice to go right back to work. Hell, not merely just the disadvantaged, but most of the advantaged as well: white-middle class people. In most cases, a mother has no choice but to go back to work. Someone has to work to keep the lights on and given that wages have stagnated for 20-plus years, that someone is often BOTH parents. (Not mentioned in most of the news articles, mind you.)

Mayer gets to choose to be a new parent and be Yahoo!’s new CEO. She gets both. Why? Because she gets to choose. In the terms of capability economics she has the freedom to realize her well-being, the kind of life she is effectually able to lead, who can decide what she is able to be and able to do. She gets to choose what is her “functioning.”

Don’t lose me here; this is actually quite simple.

This capability approach to economics deals directly with the situation and the reactions to the Mayer case. To quote directly from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:

“Take the following functionings: (1) to hold a job, which will require me to spend many hours on working and commuting, but will generate the income needed to properly feed myself and my family; (2) to care for my children at home and give them all the attention, care and supervision they need. In a piecemeal analysis, both (1) and (2) are opportunities open to me, but they are not both together open to me. The point about the capability approach is precisely that we must take a comprehensive or holistic approach, and ask which sets of capabilities are open to me, that is: can I simultaneously provide for my family and properly care for and supervise my children? Or am I rather forced to make some hard, perhaps even tragic choices between two functionings which both reflect basic needs and basic moral duties?"

In 99% of the cases wherein people are in this situation, they are stuck. Why? Option 2 – for most people is not available. They truly do not have a choice. Not limited choice. No choice. From a holistic viewpoint, they have only one possible functioning. (Which is why when looked at separately, it appears there is a choice, even if there isn’t one.)

Ms. Mayer is not stuck in an either/or situation. She has a both/and situation. She has more ability, more freedom, more possibilities for the realization of her potentiality than the average person because of her economic status. Why does she have this advantage?

That’s called having good health insurance and health care and child care through having excellent employment and educational opportunities in her life - and taking those opportunities and making the most of them – and succeeding economically. That is the kind of opportunity making our country should provide every one. This is how a society opens up and creates and allows for its citizens to become more capable, to be more free, to have more functionings.

Whether or not others’ think she is being a bad parent and horrible mother-to-be by not taking a full maternity leave, or continuing at work - and all that other nonsense - is a sideshow to the real issue. The media is making it appear that every woman and every family has this work-maternity choice. And in this debate one simple fact is overlooked: most do NOT have this choice at all. Period. (And of course none of this would be an issue if she had a penis! Gender bias? You bet!)

She’s getting a lot of snuff for the facticity of being a woman. This media barrage very much reminds me of what happened to Carly Fiorena at Hewlett-Packard. They lambasted her in the media. It was brutal. Every move she made was under heightened scrutiny. She was heartily dissed for buying Compaq and making a number of other moves people thought were short-sighted and bad for business. Then they ousted her in 2005. In fact, they still are giving her hell, years later. 

Of course everyone discounts the historical fact that she took over just as the internet bubble was going to pop – and she got HP through that period – and the economic turmoil that followed the 9-11 attacks, as well. Turns out her moves were the right ones, but she got no credit for them. Rather, the guy who succeeded her got all the credit.

Perspective is everything and here too the media is not doing due diligence. There’s a misconception that Yahoo! is failing, but in reality it is still growing, despite all the missteps by its former management teams. It just hasn't been growing fast enough for Wall Street and much of the financial media, especially when compared to Google, Apple, Amazon, and Facebook, with whom it is always compared. Then again, compared to those, everyone looks like a laggard. Yahoo! has $2B in cash on hand, with only $130M in debt, with a profit margin of 22%. Pretty good baseline numbers for any company. 

I expect to see Mayer dump a bunch of unprofitable stuff and go on a buying spree to acquire new technologies. Most importantly, I expect to see her shake the Yahoo management tree and watch the rotten fruit fall off the limbs. I think she has the chops to change the organizational culture - not an easy task, of course - and get Yahoo! out of its doldrums.

If a man was hired the focus would be only on the finances of Yahoo! and the moves that he would make. Bias? You bet.

I wish Ms. Mayer good luck as both a CEO and a parent.

Reflections on the First Year of the Tenure Track

It’s been one hell of a year at East Tennessee State University. Lots of highs. Some interesting lows. Overall, though I have to say, I’m pretty pleased with myself. Not pleased – in that cocky “I can do no wrong, don’t I kick ass” sort of way. Pleased with the fact that I made it through the first year. Why would I say that? I’ll tell you.

I say that because in my years in academe, I’ve seen any number of people fall off the tenure track. Some brilliant, hard-working people in fact. That’s one of the dilemmas I have regarding my dissertation. I was thinking about doing a longitudinal piece and re-interviewing those people who would be now getting tenure. Trouble is – out of my small sample – half of them didn’t make tenure. A couple of them are not in academe anymore at all. So surviving the tenure-track isn’t as easy as, say, baking a cake. Not sure why I used that analogy, because I can’t bake for crap…but whatever.

I have to say straight out that there’s no way I would have survived this first year without my comrades in Communication Studies at East Tennessee State. So a shout out to Drs. B., D, O, & K.  First off, they took a chance by hiring someone who at the time was not in academe at all, but only tangentially – going to conferences, applying for jobs – trying to get back into academe while not employed. Hiring in academe is a risky business anyway, and they certainly took a risk. Second, as collegues, they made me feel welcome. 

They let me ask my “stupid” questions and answered them, without rolling their eyes at the silliness of "The Noob." While I know at times I got on their nerves with all the questions, interruptions the - “Hey what’s with the….?” –questions, they were all gracious. I cannot emphasize how important they were to my making the most out of this first year. 

On the home front, I arrived here in Johnson City, TN with nothing, and it took me a while to get set up. For the first month, I didn’t even have a bed. When that first paycheck rolled in, I spent all of it on furniture. The following month all my money went to pay off past due bills. Nice to be getting on track that way after a year of living on unemployment. Acclimating to JC wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, given that I’d lived in Tennessee once before, down in “The Noog.” I’ve made some friends. Found some like-minded compatriots to shoot the breeze with. I haven’t done much exploring. That will come this summer.

Not everything went as smoothly as I would have liked though. In my own opinion – and later confirmed by the student evals – my Organizational Communication class in the fall was a mess. Some of that had to do with learning the students: their expectations, their readiness, their culture. Some of that had to do with teaching a class that I hadn’t taught since 2007. So I learned some things as I went along: give four tests instead of three, drop a project that didn’t work as planned, rearrange the classroom to make it more interactive, don’t assume that everyone has (or even wants) a Twitter account, kill the two extra texts. 

What I learned from the disaster of my Org class, I incorporated into my Group Communication class. That class, I feel – though I don’t yet have the student evals to check my thoughts – went a whole lot smoother. I’m looing forward to teaching Org Com again this fall, incorporating everything I learned from the first go-round. It should be much improved. Adjust, readjust, and readjust more. 

As Dr. D explained way back last year when I was on my interview, while the university will talk a great deal about service and will talk a great deal about teaching, they will not stress publishing. “But don’t let that fool you.”  So I took that to heart immediately. So in my first year I’ve published three pieces, which I think is good, but not great. I also have two things that are in press that will come out sometime next fall. Although I post a lot of my successes on Facebook, I have an overwhelming number of rejection letters as well!!! That’s the game though, right? Just keep plugging away on the writing and the submitting. My goal is to have three per year. So far I’m on track and happy about it. If you are interested, you can find my pieces here, here, and here.

One of the things I’ve learned is not to ask “Why?” so much. Why? (Yes, irony.) Because – and I should have realized this – it’s beause when you ask, you also assume responsibility. So when I asked “Why don’t we have an Honors-in-Discipline Program in Communication Studies?” the resounding answer was “Because you haven’t started it yet.” So I did! It took a year to get the program proposed, set-up, and initiated. So in autumn, we’ll have our first honors students. I’m pretty stoked about that. Shout outs to both Dr. Harker and Professor C - both from our Theatre and Dance Division - for helping me with all the intricacies of getting the program situated and walking me though all the necessary steps. (See what I mean about good colleagues!?) Adjust, readjust, and readjust more.

There are some frustrating things as well. I’ll spare you all the details, but just list some. A committee that didn’t get its job done. Students that "checked out" mid-semester. The strange way the hiring process went for our lecturer positions. The meetings as we attempt to reinvigorate our M.A. program. Oh. And the never-ending stack of paperwork. Nothing major, just frustrating. A LOT less frustrating than working in information technology, that’s for sure!!!

Despite those frustrations, there were many things that gratified my soul. Our undergrads presenting at the Boland Research Symposium. Presenting at the Spring Mixer with Andrew, aka Classic Andrew, aka Dr. Dunn. Representing ETSU and the Communication Department at NCA and CSCA, while seeing great mentors, peers, friends, bar buddies, former academic outcasts, more friends (that's you Herbig), and #commnerds (all wrapped in one, usually).

Finding out that certain colleagues - the previously mentioned Dr. Dunn and the yet as unmentioned Dr. M. - and I can collaborate on a very cool internet–based research project. Having interesting, intelligent conversations with graduate students. Watching my undergraduates present at local non-profits. The ability to proffer up two new classes: “Technology, Communication, and Culture” and “Communication and Leadership.”

And so, rather than some “dark night of the soul” as some of the participants from my dissertation research experienced, I find myself thriving, I find myself engaged, I find myself mostly in awe that a kid – who almost never made it out of RCNJ in the first place – is in the position of having finished up his first year on the tenure track. And I couldn’t have done it without the great colleagues that I do. So with all that is in my soul, I thank you my colleagues. Here's to a great year two!

Go Bucs!

Write your story. It is important.

To all you qualitative researchers out there: keep writing.

I don't generally get personal on this blog, but I've been overwhelmed lately by the good people in academe. Here at the end of my first year on the tenure-track seems a good time to say thank you.

Many of you know my story about trying to find a full-time tenure-track academic position, which started in 2007 when I was ABD and ended in 2011 when I got hired at ETSU. I offer my thanks, my gratitude, my heartfelt love for those of you you sent me good karma, happy vibes and thoughts, as well as prayers.

What I was most astounded by, however, wasn't the support from people that know me. No. Once I published the piece about my experience "I Know I'm Unlovable": Desperation, Dislocation, Despair, and Discourse on the Academic Job Hunt" in Qualitative Inquiry (an excellent journal in its own right) I was overwhelmed by the response.

Hundreds of people contacted me about it. Hundreds! I had no idea that was going to happen. After all, it's "merely" a personal narrative piece.

Total strangers started emailing me about how the piece spoke to them. People started Tweeting me about it to say "Thanks - this needed to be written." They tweeted about it to other people...and they too Tweeted me. People started FaceBook messaging me about how they are going to have all their graduate students read it. People told me it spoke to them, that I was brave to tell one of the stories that is often silenced and whispered in academia, but rarely spoken about out loud.

Brave? It wasn't brave. While I won't say that writing that piece saved my life, it did help preserve my sanity. For those of you who doubt my sanity, well, I guess it preserved my functional insanity. Brave? No. Necessary? Yes.

The point is that I was overcome by the response to the piece. So many people reached out to say how it touched them. A few said they cried when they read it, because it matched their own experience. For some it was the confusion and the anger that resonated with them. For some it provided a catharsis - by simply knowing there are other people out here suffering through the same things they are.

Here's the lesson, if a lesson can be taken from this. To all you qualitative researchers out there: keep writing. Keep on writing. See, your stories are important.  You don't know how important your stories are unless you tell them. You don't know what an impact your story can have on someone, unless you actually write it. You don't know how big your personal community is - or your particular experience is - unless you write about it. Write your story. It is important.

I had no idea that my little piece would create the stir it did. I'm glad it did.

So I just wanted to say thank you.

Andrew

Counter-Narrative: An Important, Much Needed Book

Bud Goodall starts out with this truth: 

We on the left suck at narratives. 

We do – at least compared to the right - be that right the economic libertarians, the religious conservatives, the neo-cons, or the conspiracy theorists like the Birthers.  Slowly but surely those on the right have spun their tales so well, that what they say is too often taken for granted, as given, as the way things are and the way things ought to be. All these ‘givens’ aren’t givens at all. They are stories told over and over and over until we believe them to be true. For instance:

“Free markets should be unfettered!” (Hello financial crisis.)

“Democrats are weak on defense!” (Goodbye Osama Bin Laden!)

“Jesus was not interested in justice!” (Hello? Have you read the New Testament?)

“Obama is a Kenyan born Muslim!” (Hello long-form birth certificate!)

“Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot!” (Yes, ridicule is helpful but not constructive in the long term.)

Sure, we have facts on our side.

Yes, the deficit was caused by the Bush tax cuts and the wars.

Yes, Jesus was interested in justice.

Yes, the founding fathers were human with human foibles.

Yes, Teabaggers gave themselves that name without knowing what “Teabagging” is.

Here’s the thing: facts only matter if they are embedded in a good story. To quote Reagan’s 1988 slip up: “Facts are stupid things.” Narratives drive information, not the other way around.

Have you ever wondered how Al Queda can recruit people into killing themselves? Have you ever wondered why Glenn Beck’s conspiracies were accepted by so many? Have you ever wondered why the Birther issue will not die? Have you ever wondered why people who say they follow Jesus only follow the free-market Jesus? Have you ever wondered why academics are losing the battle over who academics are and what we do? Have you ever wondered what ever happened to the concept of the common good (clean air and water, state and national forests, public education, etc.)? Here you will find the stories conservatives tell dismantled, examined, and critiqued.

Finally Goodall doesn’t let us off the hook. He delivers to us an ultimatum.  If we don’t start actively writing our narratives to counter the conservative narratives, we will no longer have the words by which to tell our narrative.

Read it. Practice it.

"Hey Andrew, How Do You Get So Much Writing Done?"

People ask me this and I tell them I write a lot. People sometimes say, "You're really smart. That's how you get so much accomplished." "Well hold your horses," I tell them. "I'm not really THAT smart. I just work hard and I write everyday." And that's the first key. So if you really want to know how I get so much published in journals - though it's probably similar if you are writing books, magazine articles, or for a newspaper - here is what I do. None of this is original. They are ideas I've snagged from other authors, colleagues, peers, friends, mentors. 


1. Always, always write. Whether you are sitting down with a vague idea (Chaos theory and academic conferencing). Write. Or have just a bare sketch (Buffy, Spike, and Foucault). Write. Or are entertaining two opposing thoughts (Abbot and Costello Meet Punk Rock). Write. Or have come up with simply a weird title (like “Kierkegaard and Human Resources in the Modern Corporation,” for example) write. Write a little each day, write a lot each day. Write. Take Anne Lamott’s advice and write that “shitty rough draft.” No one will see it but you, so don’t worry about grammar, punctuation, references, footnotes, or any of that mundane stuff. That’s not writing. That’s editing. That comes later. Just write. Get words on the page. Sometimes they come slowly – word by word. Sometimes they come in a flourish. No matter. Write.

2. Take a break. Seriously. The pressure to publish is insane in academe. So write. Write until your P.O.S. draft is done.  Then stop. Push yourself away from your desk. Close the laptop. Whatever. Just stop. Go outside. Take the Underwater Basket Weaving class that meets every Saturday. Just don’t write. Have a beer at a local water hole. Shoot a game of pool someplace. Smoke crack. Walk the dog. Buy ferrets. Paint your abode. Work on your syllabus. Read some fiction. Go see a kickin' flick. Work on a flier for your upcoming summer class. Don’t write. For three days. Don’t write. This will refresh your mind.


3. Edit. As Bud Goodall once said, “All good writing is re-writing.” This does not mean merely editing. This means giving your work a careful read. By doing so you find concepts that are unclear and need to be expanded. Hack away the passive voice. Keep to your thesis statement. This means re-examining thoughts and ideas that may be tangential to your main argument and dumping them – perhaps they are the germ of a different piece. Like Red Leader said in Star Wars, “Stay on target.” This writing can be the real muck, but don’t be deterred. Revise, refine, rewrite. Put it away again. Just leave it be. 


4. Edit again. Here’s where things get tough. We generally like all the words we write. As the Police song goes, “I'm a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom” and be a Demolition Wo/Man. Here’s where you kill your children. Some of them are still-births and need to be eliminated. Some of them sound grand and promote a flourish you think is delightful. Kill them. Axe them. Erase them. Murder them. While you want to maintain your voice, anything that is unneeded needs to go. Be a brutal dictator.


5. Show it to peers. For academics this is the hardest part, because we don’t like anyone to think we are stupid. There’s a lot of work and pride that goes into writing. Let me give you a hint. Nothing you write is perfect. Ever. So let it “leave your hand” and go into a colleagues'. This is absolutely important. I wrote a piece for an ethnography class I had as an M.A. student at Saint Louis University. I wrote it and rewrote it and rewrote it. I sent it out for publication over and over. Well, finally I let some other people read the thing. Turns out I was trying to do too much in that one piece. Bob Krizek read it when it was a class draft. My friend Sam read it. Eric Eisenberg read it. They all gave me great advice. I still could not get it published. Finally, I took it to the Young Scholars class at CSCA. This group of scholars said, “Andrew, its almost like you have two pieces here. One on the process of organizing at a new nonprofit, and one on your own personal narrative as a punk rocker returning to the scene after a dozen years.” They were correct. I broke it into two pieces. One piece is out. The other is in press. If I had never shown it to anyone, I’d never recognized the problem.


6. Edit. Again. Word by word. Punctuation mark by punctuation mark. Line by line. Reference by reference. Work out those transitional sentences that connect paragraph to paragraph. (Confession: I hate those sentences. I stink at them. For me they are the most arduous task. Still they must be done.) Essential tedium.


7. Send it out. Pick a journal that matches what your subject is and what your method is. I’m a qualitative researcher, so as much as I’d like to get something published in Communication Monographs, that’s not going to happen. There’s no goodness of fit. Don’t mess with journals that don’t do what you do. I don’t want to waste my time and the editor’s time either. Search out journals. As a qualitative organizational communication scholar, I had to find my outlets. Like what? Qualitative Research in Organizations and Management: An International Journal. Journal of Loss & Trauma. Qualitative Inquiry. Journal of Computer-Mediated Communication. Studies in Symbolic Interaction. Journal of Organizational Ethnography. International Review of Qualitative Research. Qualitative Communication Research. If it gets rejected outright – send it to the next journal on your list. Don’t waste time feeling sorry for yourself. When you get a revise and resubmit, revise and resubmit. Period.

8. Keep writing. I generally have two or three things always in progress. When something is accepted for publication, I begin a new piece, even if that possible piece is some hackneyed idea like “Adding bleach to the laundry as a speech act.” Brainstorm. Read good fiction ( I prefer Horror and Hard-Boiled Detectives) and nonfiction. Write. Keep writing. Always write. Every day. Every day. That’s the only way to progress.


Bonus step: Unplug. Kill your cable. There's nothing on there anyway. Hulu or Netflix what you really want to watch. Seriously. You'll never realize how much time you have to write until you realize how much time you have to write.

My New Course: Technology, Communication, and Culture

A new class that I've prepped for the summer. It is the first new class I've proposed and with the help of my chair, Dr. Amber Kinser (who I cannot thank enough for making sure this new faculty member knows what he's doing) this has been a pretty darn smooth process.

Now the only question will be if it 'makes.' If it makes, that would be the first step into getting into the Communication Department rotation. Here's hoping!