... and since then ... 2015

2015 will forever be a year of mixed reviews.  I finally was ready to hand in my Intent to Complete, a very scary document which meant you are now a grown-up and are ready to defend all your work. As I waited for my Viva date to be announced, Bill returned to the UK and we travelled.

To the left, my Thesis (Novel and Defense) submitted and ready for review. It is a very scary, humbling, and exciting time to actually see your work transformed into a bound copy. This represents three years of hard work, the support of family and friends, new friends and old, research and travel to weave my story, 'Standing Stone', using three time periods, three countries, three women, a murder mystery, a romance (several), myth, legend, and history, and more happy accidents than I can express. Then comes the defense...

London

Aberystwyth

Tregaron, Wales

However, having submitted, we travelled to relieve the stress and prepare for the upcoming Viva. Here is a kaleidoscope of pictures.

Stonehenge, UK

Giant's Causeway, North Ireland

Sheelanagig in Hereford, England

River Avon near Stratford

We traveled to Scotland, Ireland, North Ireland, and throughout the south and midlands of the UK. I wrote a whole chapter while at Stonehenge for my sequel, 'Lament'. We visited the famous but not only Sheelanagig (seen above on a church wall) and left a stone cairn in Exeter Cathedral. We visited Gretna Green in Scotland while I thought of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and, of course, I traveled with my very own Mr. Darcy.

Exeter Cathedral, England

 June 26th came upon us so quickly and my Viva dawned bright and sunny. Nervous doesn't really do justice to the butterflies which had taken up residence in my stomach. I have very little memory of the actual process (probably a blessing) except that upon conclusion, I was asked if I wanted the good news or the bad. The good, I replied. "Congratulations Dr. Nerenberg." And then I was shaking hands and wondering what the bad would entail. I needed to rewrite my Defense and had six months to do so. The corrections to my 404 page novel took a day to correct. The defense, (99 pages/25 of Bibliography) needed reworking as I was asked to compare, contrast, and place my novel alongside contemporary and classic authors and their works, rather than examine the psychological impact of story on brain function and how that relates to works of classic. Sigh! Never fear, rewriting the defense taught me a great deal and although fraught with angst and the stretching of my brain, I was glad in the end for the additional understanding I gained.

Wisely, especially after viewing the emotional roller coaster I'd been on, my husband whisked me away to Killiane Castle, Ireland, for three days and nights. Pure Heaven! I felt like a real life princess in a very surreal world. Then back to Aberystwyth to complete packing, shipping boxes, giving away food and household goods, tearful goodbyes, and flying home. It seemed as if I was being torn in two, for while eager to get home, I had also developed a second life in the three years I'd spent amongst the Welsh, a world full, rich and filled with both amazing people and self-discovery.

Once home I was zombified (surprised AutoCorrect didn't catch that one!) for a month. Then began my second spate of exhaustive research, reading, writing, feelings of confusion, thoughts of giving up again, insights, and just sitting in a chair and rewriting my defense outline for the gazillioneth time.

 My professor, Dr Rosie Dub, was an angel, who provided a lot of handholding. Thank you, Rosie. Finally, I was facing the holidays and had to submit, print, and deliver my hard bound copies to the English Department for final approval. I made my deadline with near three weeks to spare. 


The New Year began and we waited to see what 2016 would bring. It brought a letter, word that my work had been accepted and that in July the title of Doctor of Philosophy would be bestowed upon me. O frabjous day, calloo, callay!

Killiane Castle, Drinagh, Ireland 

February 2013 - Home to Home - Part 2

Stirling Castle, Scotland

I would like to know what happened to January.  It was always my mom's favorite month she once said, explaining that she got to write my name every day.  But this past January just vanished into the mist.

After enjoying December with family and friends, cuddles with grands, making and sending handmade ornaments and Christmas greetings across the United States and beyond, lunches with friends, and just being with my husband, it was bitter-sweet to return to my second home in Wales.  I was prepared for the journey but was not prepared for the ravages of jet-lag nor did I understand what jet-lag was beyond sleep deprivation.  Okay, so as a researcher I set out to discover what it really is.

It's different for each person but the overall response is 24 hours adjustment for every time zone travelled, a bit more if you're over fifty but who's counting! The UK is 8 time zones different than Oregon.  The adjustments to our circadian rhythms can result in inability to sleep as well as depression, anxiety, eating and elimination issues.  Makes sense when one considers all that is involved, as the body doesn't necessarily follow where the brain leads.  Case in point, I look at the gymnasts in the Olympics and say I can do that; and then I look in the mirror and realize that it's probably not going to happen soon.  So for those of you planning a trip from West to East (takes a longer adjustment) or East to West (takes less time to adjust for most), here are some tips.  Set your watch to the destination time zone when you get on the plane.  Bring Melatonin with you (natural sleep aid). When it's night, do NOT stare at the computer screen to go back to sleep.  It will actually do the reverse and tell your body it's morning and wake you up.  Drink plenty of fluids.  Exercise through the day and try to avoid late afternoon naps for a few weeks.  Above all, stay busily engaged in seeing and enjoying your trip or your home.  Understand that there is nothing wrong with you, your body is just trying to catch up to your adventurous travel plans.

After adjusting to the 8 hour time change and delivering my

scheduled presentation, I began to enjoy life again and journeyed with friends to Scotland where we stayed in Sterling and visited Edinborough.

   

Stirling Castle is being beautifully  renovated and the colors used were truly remarkable.  Opulent is the only word that quite covers the interior royal chambers.  One wishes to lie upon the floor and just observe the ceilings.

As I wandered through the castle and stared out across the fields toward the William Wallace monument, the gradual realization of where I was and what I was doing began to dawn... again! I was in Scotland... in a real castle... I was going to school... I was having an adventure... I was seeing a childhood dream fulfilled.  Looking out from the castle parapet at the lush green fields or glancing skyward at the architecture and gargoyles and even playing dress-up with medieval costumes, I paused to be grateful for the experience I was sharing with friends and how my life and understanding of humanity is broadening.  It felt more like I was visiting the home of a friend, walking on their cobbled courtyard, admiring their taste in decor.  There was a definite connection that time and space did not account for.  Perhaps it is the writer in me, the fact that I live within an imaginary world a good part of my day, but just as reading takes us on a journey through time or into the mind and heart of another person, this new adventure removed barriers as I lived "in" history and became a part of it.

January saw the completion of my doctoral in-class classes and the freedom to work intensely on my research and novel, which has passed 22K words.  I'm not sure what adventures February will offer but I do promise to keep you posted.  Until then learn to laugh while you live and don't forget to dance.

Week 9/10 - Pulling Out the Stops

Manor House, Godstone, England

Week Nine and part way through Week Ten.  Hectic, stress, frenetic, and overwhelm seem to be the uppermost words that spring to mind.

Although today is a glorious blue with a biting cold in Aber, I sit inside after a hasty bus trip into town to get more ink for the printer.  I've finally run out of ink!

As the semester slides toward the holiday break, I've just completed a 2497 word essay (Do NOT exceed 2500 or you will be marked down) for my PGM0120 module on Research.  Although only 15 workshops were necessary, I attended thirty and listened to another that was recorded earlier.  Still a glutton for punishment and over-achiever.

Stairway to the theatre in the School of Art

I also sent in my Abstract of 180 words (Not to exceed 200 word count) on my novel and planned analysis, which is part Critical Theory and part Self-Analysis of my writing process and will hopefully challenge how Classic is defined in literature.

Then there was PGM0410, Ways of Reading, a study in the various theories of deconstruction.  I chose to write on Narratology as it is theory of the narrative.  Relatively new as theories go, I completed 3497 words just three words short of the max thereby preventing me again from losing points.  The UK take their word counts very seriously.  As I compared Bleak House by Charles Dickens, The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, and Sepulchre by Kate Mosse, I began to get the hang of foreshadowing and backshadowing, framing a story, genre, as well as verbal patterning and motifs used.

I eventually took the plunge and did an analysis of the opening paragraphs in my novel, Standing Stone.  I read the words as a reader coming fresh to the page rather than a writer, who has toiled with each word, trying to make sense of the story that likes to peek-a-boo around corners, show itself as I drift off to sleep, or present itself in the chance remark of another student, professor, or perfect stranger.  I was pleased for these few paragraphs, 215 words, passed the litmus test.  I could see motifs, a frame, foreshadowing of events... and, of course, knowing the end, I could see that I had backshadowed the eventual outcome.  Happy Dance!

Theatre or Classroom in School of Art.
(Rich and Ash in front row)

 Then, of course, was the fine tuning of just over 4000 words of the novel to hand in to my second-reader.  That will happen shortly, possibly tomorrow, just one more review.  The assignments (over 10,000 words) are ticked off my rather lengthy list and I can now hopefully settle into a daily writing pattern, getting to know my characters and telling their interwoven story as they whisper to me.  Another author, Pete Fromm, said once that he had the best job in the world because he got to go to the basement and play with his imaginary friends each day.  Lovely.  I so understand.

Maybe I can do this, I said to myself, referring to my great undertaking.  For cheek-by-jowl with the euphoria of handing in assignments early and tickets for home taped just above my computer, the PhD is a solitary process.  Incoming students are warned that this honing of skill, this laser focus on becoming an expert in one's chosen discipline, can consume both life and the art of living.  Choices must be made and consequences faced.

Thanksgiving this past week dawned without fanfare and sans turkey.  I had leftover stir fry before which I presented my Visa to the proper campus authority which will enable me to return home next month.  However, despite feeling sorry for myself that I was going to be alone, I was grateful for modern technology and the chance to see everyone via Skype.  My daughter held her iPhone with me on video chat from Wales, while my son-in-law held a second smart phone connecting my husband from Oregon so that we could join the sixty gathered in Utah.  After going round the room and giving each a chance to say what they were grateful for... a new baby coming, religious freedom, being together, "my smokin' hot wife," family, country, and, of course, the food, which threatened to collapse several tables, the two phones were held together for a Thanksgiving kiss across the miles.  It made me smile, lessened the ache caused by distance, and made me ever so much more grateful as I listened to and was included in our joint and heartfelt family prayer.  Thank you sweetheart, children, grandchildren, extended family, and friends for your love and support.  Families are truly forever.

Aberystwyth Bay/the Irish Sea.  View from the cafeteria.

Sunset over the campus on my walk home tonight.

Dear Readers:  I plan on a bit of a hiatus while I return home to enjoy the Christmas season with family.  See you in the New Year.  May your holidays be joyous and 2013 filled with blessings.