In all honesty, this has been a sort of quiet week, but a lot has been accomplished. Three books are now published - Kindle Direct Printing does not know how to keep my formatting right on the books, but they are on the market now and I will see if I can adjust things later with them. One big issue with self-publishing is that you can work hard on an original manuscript and these services - as good as they are, and I appreciate the opportunity they provide, don't get me wrong! - such as Lulu and KDP mess up perfect formatting! But, you know what though? At least some long-awaited projects are done, and perhaps later I can upgrade them maybe. This now makes seven authored books I have printed, and there will be more in the future I am sure - I have two big ones in the works once some dust settles and I get the direction I will be going soon. Part of that is my new position I will be getting soon, and with that and interconnected to it is a new place to live. This is life at this point, and it just feels like that 6-year transition I have been in has no ending, but nature dictates a final chapter to that saga, and hopefully we'll see it soon.
I have also been spending some time repacking non-essential items into smaller bins to make them more manageable when it comes time for the inevitable move that will be happening. Let's face facts - at age 56, I am not getting any younger now, and thus I need to make a potential move as efficient as possible without wearing my body out. The last couple of moves have about done me in, and I may get some professional help with the next one just to make sure that is not my swan song. But we are in a good place at this point, so again we'll see where it goes.
Besides writing projects, repacking and organization, and putting in a lot of potential job applications, this has been my week so far. So, what else has been on my mind besides that? There is one thing I wanted to talk about, so we'll do that now.
I am already making plans for my next couple of books, and one of those book projects has to do with something that has been a key topic for me for almost 40 years now - Middle Eastern Christians, the role of the Jewish people, and some apocalyptic perspectives. I want to write a book - and it will be a big book! - that encompasses all that, and this is something I want to do before my 60th birthday if possible. One aspect of a project like that is organization - I want it to be scholarly, but also personal, and the key is to make both of those things happen and to make them a reality. I have seen over the years how other writers have done that - Merrill McClain's work with Spanish Gypsies comes to mind, as does William Shirer's experiences in Nazi Germany just prior to WWII. Now, when I was doing my dissertation work for my Ph.D., my dissertation chair, Dr. Skiles, more or less told me that Shirer's work was not a reliable scholarly source - it seems that many WWII historians don't think his work qualifies as being peer-reviewed. My argument - which I also made to Dr. Skiles and he sort of agreed - was that perhaps Shirer's work was not meant to be a history text in the traditional sense, and rather it should be looked at as a primary source instead. Primary source material has more leeway in historiographical analysis than does secondary or reference material, in that it is largely written from the author's perspective and is not meant to be scholastic. Shirer's two books, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and The Nightmare Years, the latter being a sort of prequel to the first, were essentially his memoirs, and thus they are autobiographical although I believe they contain very relevant and readable information in regard to his experiences. I have been an admirer of Shirer's work since I was a kid, and probably have read through The Nightmare Years over a dozen times. I got my copy of it (which was unfortunately lost in our move from Hagerstown) back when I was 14 and it was a Book of the Month Club selection I got in one of those four books for a buck deals they had then. While academics may not value his work (although Dr. Skiles did admit that Shirer's books were good reading, so that says something), there is a reason for that. Shirer's books were not written for Ivy League professors - he wrote them for the guy who is relaxing in his armchair and loves history. I am still sort of that guy, despite being an academic now myself. I can write academic peer-reviewed material as well as the next Ph.D., but I also tend to write to make things interesting and readable, and I like injecting my own thoughts into a discussion too as I believe it makes me as a writer more human. This is why my books I author are meant not for the Harvard professor, but for the casual reader who maybe has an avid interest in a certain topic. I am going to tackle the issue of peer-review momentarily, as I have some things to say about that, but for now I want to talk about something I want to work into my book on Middle Eastern Christians once I start work on it.
In my early 20s, when I was still a young undergraduate student at Southeastern University, I had a vision. It is a vision I haven't talked about a lot, but it still comes up in my thoughts every so often. Since I was around 16 years old and learned about Armenians and later Assyrians, I have been a strong advocate for them. In recent decades, it has laid sort of dormant as other issues in life have consumed my time, but I have never lost it. As a young college student then, I was idealistic, and one of the things I envisioned then was being able to have the resources to create a highly self-sufficient community that would shelter Assyrians and others who were fleeing persecution. I called it the Saint Isaac of Nineveh Village, and it was grandiose. I even typed out a sort of proposal of it that I have packed among my personal papers, and I drew maps and everything. While part of it was the idealistic ramblings of an idealistic young kid, and the cost to undertake such an endeavor could be in the billions of dollars, it is part of my story and I want to find a way to incorporate it into the book. The idea would be amazing if it could be realized, but at my age now and the fact I am not a multi-billionaire, it may not happen in my lifetime. So, I am leaving the idea for someone who can possibly refine it and make it happen, and that is part of the material of the book I plan to write too. You see, stuff like that is what does inspire people, as dry academic discourse often will lose them if you are just merely discussing theories and employing an over-abundance of academic jargon. The young people need to be able to read stuff like that and then gain inspiration for greatness, and that is where I feel I am called to operate. Let me explore that more now before I give some opinions on the modern peer-review process.
There is a sort of exiliaration at aspiring to become an ideologue with a following - I know that sounds crazy, but think about that a minute. When I reflect on great thinkers like Sir Roger Scruton, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Professor Plineo Correa de Oliviera, I want to be that. I want to not just be someone who shares a perspective, but I want followers and disciples! That sounds crazy, and I probably will sound like a deranged cult leader to some, but think about it - to know you are impacting a young mind and they admire you enough to carry on your work, that is a good feeling. I want to be a mentor, but also to be a real person - I don't want someone canonizing me a saint just because my views fired them up, but I want them to see me as just a normal human being with a vision for something. It's one of the reasons I write all this stuff. I often imagine a day in the future, long after I am gone, when some curious young person stumbles across a book I wrote or one of these articles - they read it, something resonates within them, and they then decide to become a "Throwerist." What does that look like, and what does it mean? I probably really sound crazy and a little narcissistic now, but I do think about the impact I may have on someone in future generations - I have published works out there now, and in 50 or 100 years someone is going to find them, read them, and hell, maybe even take some of my ramblings seriously! In all honesty too, I want someone to read my stuff in detail, maybe even disagree on a few things but still see something that they can build upon, and if that happens my legacy lives. I was rewatching a movie, Star Trek - First Contact, and I thought of my own legacy as kind of like the fictional Zephrem Cochrane in the Star Trek universe. Cochrane, as any Trekkie knows, is the guy who invented the system that powers the USS Enterprise from the time Archer flies the first one a hundred years later until Picard retires it 300 years in the future. That system, as any Trekkie knows, is warp drive. Warp drive is in real life a nonexistent thing, because it is a propulsion system that breaks the light barrier and instead of measuring distances in miles for interstellar travel, it is in light years. So, going from one side of a galaxy to another is like driving a car from New York to California in real time - it may take a few days, but you get there in good time. Will warp drive ever exist? Who knows? However, that is not what I was going to focus on, as instead it is about Cochrane himself. When the Borg (a transhuman species who are the ultimate nemesis for all life in the galaxy) threaten to go back in time and conquer and assimilate earth, they create a time portal to go back to the time Cochrane lived to thwart what happened and change history in their favor. 23rd-century Picard and his crew meet 21st-century Zephrem Cochrane, and what they meet does not measure up to the mythology that has built up around his legacy - instead of being a visionary, Cochrane (who is played by the actor James Cromwell, who is a real talent and plays the part well) turns out to be a burnt-out, alcohol-fueled scientist who just wants to make a ton of money and retire on a tropical island where he can have endless orgies with beautiful native girls. So, warp drive ends up being a business venture instead of a true vision, but eventually the future crew of the Enterprise bring Cochrane around, and the Borg are defeated and the future is secure. Cochrane was a simple guy with a good idea, and didn't understand exactly what his legacy was going to be - frankly, he was at a point he didn't care! I am not as jaded as Cochrane obviously, as I want a pivotal legacy, but I understand the humility involved that people end up respecting more than one's accomplishments. That is the legacy I hope to pass on. Of course, there will be opposition to one's progress, and when you get to the Ph.D. level a lot of that opposition comes from other Ph.Ds at times - this is where the gatekeeping farce of peer review comes into play. Let's tackle that now.
Peer review is in the strictest sense a sort of validation of one's written scholarship by those who are on equal standing (hence, peers). At one time, it was seen as a noble right-of-passage into academic discourse, and the very first peer-review one faces is their dissertation review committee. I fortunately had a very good group in that regard, as my faculty chair Dr. Skiles was amazing, and the two readers (Dr. Glaze and Dr. Broom) were likewise phenomenal. As part of that rite of passage, one undergoes readings, suggestions, and criticism from the committee, and the doctoral candidate then has to either accept or reject their recommendations and make the appropriate adjustments to their dissertation work. It sort of prepares a Ph.D. candidate for what to expect when they prepare to publish in the future, and it is good practice. If you meet the approval of your chair and the readers, you can officially preface your name with the title "Doctor" and all that's left is the official degree conferral. That is an amazing moment when you experience it, and mine was - to hear a couple of senior academics address you as a peer with the title "Doctor" makes it all worth it, and that was perhaps one of the best moments of my life when I achieved that. However, there are academic societies and organizations that don't take your work as seriously as your review committee did, and that is where peer review becomes frustrating. In much of today's academic discourse, you have "gatekeepers" who are either UC Berkeley radicals with political agendas or Ivy League elitists who look down at your credentials as somehow beneath them because your university where you worked hard and earned a degree is not "Hahhh-vahhd" or "Yale," and thus you are beneath them. Those types are the ones who control many academic societies, and when you read what they do approve as "equal," it has little or no relevance to the academic field they are supposed to represent. My biggest pet peeve in this regard is a group called the Appalachian Studies Association. I tried to get some stuff published in their journal a couple of years back, and the chairman of that group, a UC Berkeley hippie with no ties to the region whatsoever, told me my material was more suited for a travel brochure than their elite publication. But, then I looked at one of their conferences - it featured a "drag queen" contest (what in hell did that have to do with Appalachian Studies??) and a bunch of talks that sought to discredit our Vice President J.D. Vance's Hillbilly Elegy as a racist and ignorant rant or something - again, when you disparage the Vice President's book (which is a memoir, I must interject - Vance never intended his book to be a scholarly discourse!) when he is actually a native of the region he writes about but you're not, to me that ruins your credibility. So, while bitching about the Vice President and lustfully ogling drag queens is considered "scholarly discourse," an actual article from someone who grew up in the region is casually dismissed as "travel brochure copy." I really hope someone from the Appalachian Studies Association reads this and maybe they will see how inconsistent, irrelevant, and ridiculous they are. This is why I actually propose a different way for scholars to be published to avoid these establishment elitist gatekeepers. There are opportunities out there, so it is just a matter of finding them.
ASA is not the only such "academic society" that is like this - most of them are due to the political inclinations of academic elitists. While there are notable exceptions, overall it is not a good thing at all when one looks at what passes for "scholastic" in this day and age. But, so is the world we live.
On that note, I will conclude my thoughts for today, and again, I appreciate your bearing with my ramblings. We'll see you next time.