“You must enjoy all that time off in the summer.” I am not sure just how many times I have explained to my parents that summer is, for those research-orientated, just as busy as the rest of the year. Conference season starts in full force, and it’s also time to catch up on all of the research plans we had to abandon during our months teachings. This means writing papers, books, articles, those conference papers for the aforementioned season and endless to-do lists to keep track of projects. If care is not taken, it is a time of managing repetitive strain injury from all of the typing. At present, I am working on three books, a journal article, presented a conference paper two weeks ago and have one due in two more weeks.

The workload is self-directed although not entirely self-imposed. Academia is often competitive and we are judged for our outputs, but it is also imperative that teaching is informed by research. It is crucial to September that there has been time to engage with research. It is the only way to update lectures and seminars with the best material for students. The intensity though, feels joyous. The marking is done, and there is a freedom to the direction of work that does not exist during the semester(s). There is a sense of liberation, perhaps masking a slight tingle of anxiety at how very different the life of a researcher is post PhD.

During teaching, nothing much had really changed except for the fact I got to put Dr. at the start of my PowerPoint slides (nice, but hardly significant). Now, my research projects are created, crafted, edited and submitted all without input from a helpful advisor. There are no meetings or check ins about my progress. It is mine to steer, and mine to rescue when something goes awry. There’s an exhilaration to have more time to write on something other than that bloody Mass Effect series, but it is laced with an occasional glance behind me, wondering if I am still doing this research thing okay. I may well never have an answer on that one, but the unknown is something I will have to adjust to.

.

I have, inevitably, been remiss with updating the blog and promoting my own biopunk work. Too busy to play games, too busy to update my own website. Yet, given that the third and (potentially) final year of the PhD will soon be upon me, it felt about time to check whether I could remember my password.

It has been an intense year: I’ve been published, ran more conferences than I can count, written articles still awaiting review, presented at conferences and, sometimes, done some thesis writing. In truth, it could have been far more intense and I should have done so much more PhD work (I’m sorry, Rob, but not really sorry). Mostly because in that time I’ve gotten a puppy, been on several trips, went to the women’s Euros, and lost track of the hours I spent in Waterstones just looking at books and neglecting my ever increasing to-be-read pile. This final month of second year is now in a little bit of chaos. And yes, I’m delaying getting back to work by wittering on here. But I think the one thing I’ll take away is: if you need to get ahead with work in your first year – and you do, trust me that you do – then make sure it’s so you can slack off on your second year and do all the things you want to do before the real, absolutely absurd slog starts during the final year. I’ve cried three times over my work this month and it’s only the sixth day – and I don’t regret a thing. Expect more updates, maybe. Hopefully there will be some more links on the bio section coming. But most importantly, if you see me screaming outside in a thunder storm so nobody can hear me, just go with it. I’m having a blast, deep down.

The time is drawing closer, the time where I will be officially into my second year of my PhD, only I have no real idea of where that time has gone. Working at home during a pandemic certainly does not help separate the days but time feels more defined by books. Time before the Foucault books, time after. Time before Cohen’s critiques and time after. Not so much 52 weeks of the year, but 52 academic texts (at minimum). But despite how bleary-eyed I am, things have been learned. Not a lot, mind, but good enough to be getting on with.

I’ve wept and slept more than lived, laughed, loved; but there has been joy. There have been new brilliant people with even more brilliant minds to speak to. There have been opportunities that I have been humbled by, but immensely grateful for as they break up some of the tedium of filling in supervision forms. I’ve taught undergraduates about gamergate, I was murdered by my director of studies on Among Us, I’ve written academic texts, I’ve put over 30,000 words into my thesis which will certainly be entirely rewritten, I’ve established an academic network, I am arranging a conference, and I completed the Mass Effect remaster in just over a week (and yes, that was the most difficult task of them all).

There has also been a modicum of personal growth, although I hesitate to say that as I know I could undo it all at any moment given my naturally impetuous nature. But, I’ve learned to embrace sleep. I’ve napped more. I’ve cancelled plans to nap or simply be near my flowers and I’ve been polite and apologised but felt little guilt. I have resisted my restless nature and learned to accept quieter moments, but I still somehow take on too much as I am repeatedly scolded for. I am less hotheaded and have learned to suffer fools somewhat better than I once did – but it is constantly testing my resolve in an era of antivaxxers. In short, I have learned to put my needs first while my whims have taken less priority. I think this is why I am still immensely enjoying my PhD, while there are those I know who are struggling.

A PhD journey is difficult. It is immense fun but it is difficult, too. Here are some tips that I’ve learned from the last year for those contemplating doing a PhD. It may help a little.

Preparing a PhD proposal

Seek advice from people who have failed to complete their PhDs. This comes with a caveat: to take their very worst warnings with seriousness and a pinch of salt. There will be many who will line up to tell you not to do a PhD – they couldn’t do it so why should you be able to? The PhD process is long and gruelling, and it can be traumatic for some in toxic environments. That is true, and it is important to know going in so that you may put systems in place to give you the best chance. So be aware of what led them to leave the PhD process, but do not let it deter you. Find solutions to their problems and it will stand you in good stead. Ask: was it their supervisor? Their methodology? The topic? A combination? See what led to the discord, and adjust your own proposal where needed.

Read everything about your field. Going into the interview you may not need to have an extremely detailed plan of exactly how you expect your thesis to go. If you pick an area of research that could be developed or an original idea, and have demonstrable competence, then this usually is enough. However, knowing the landscape of research is extremely helpful for coming up with an original idea and it is best to do it early for one reason: it will cause less stress down the line when you are under more pressure. I know of academics who have gone into the process with a vague idea, which is fine, but time ticked away and they found themselves still in the same vague area only for someone else to publish the research before they did. It’s rare, but it happens. And the best way to avoid that is to develop your original idea as early as you can – and that’s more likely to happen if you know where the gaps in current research are.

Get a reference for your supervisors. A university website will only tell you about a person’s area of expertise but not what kind of person you are going to be stuck with for the next few years. Ask around, and if you are going to the same university as you studied in previously then ask staff members you trust for their input. Even seek out the Student Union and see if anyone associated can give you some advice.

Starting your first year.

Be prepared to be exasperated at the induction. Inductions are great for figuring out the situation with parking and how to make the most of referencing software. However, there is a tendency for them to focus on STEM research so there may be a lot that will feel irrelevant. Stick with it, you’ll never need to see STEM students again if you don’t want to. Think of it akin to lesbians and gay men at Pride who meet only fleetingly, but, sadly, with worse outfits.

Make new connections, and then mute them. You will likely to meeting quite a lot of new people at first: the dreaded STEM students at induction, new scholars in your field, and you will be offered the chance for department reading groups and meetings. Join all the group chats about work and mute them. Check in maybe once a week, apologise for missing messages but don’t let their stress or excessive posting become your stress. Meeting other academics is great, and allies help make the process smoother but they shouldn’t become your whole life. They are still colleagues, it is still work-related and you will need time that is not about your PhD.

Your PhD is what you want it to be. If you just want to focus on your thesis and research then that is fine. But some people also want to focus on developing their academic connections, profile and develop their teaching experience. The pandemic has been severely interrupting to university life which may well mean that there aren’t the same level of conferences and research seminars as there once were. If you want them, you’re probably going to have to organise them yourself. Shy bairns get nowt. If you want something then go for it.

Do your supervision record forms immediately after every meeting. You will forget otherwise, or you will forget what was discussed. Schedule completing the form in with your meeting time (even if you don’t do it literally in the meeting but immediately after). The forms will be one of the most irritating parts of the process, but it’s easier if you get them out the way rather than fill out 12 monthly record forms in a block at the end of the year.

Time to think counts as time working. Play games, sit and stare blankly at the screen, pace around, build a pillow fort to hide in. If you’re thinking about your work – what you’ve read, what you will write next – then that is still work. It is still producing something as it produces new ideas for you to then craft.

Be assertive over your time. Doing a PhD means that people may think you are extremely flexible because you’re not really working full-time, but you are. And it’s worse because you don’t get to just stop at a specific hour. Time away from work needs to be made up. Do go out, and do have fun but also be assertive when you know you need to get work done and people are trying to distract you. Your work is a job, and it is as important as anyone else’s office gig.

It’s been a strange year for biopunk fans, as a global pandemic dominated our lives for almost all of the year. Suddenly, the type of plots we love to read became a frightening reality we had to live with. But that did not stop a plethora of biopunk stories being released in 2020, or dampen their popularity. Here are some of the best biopunk stories of the year:

Invisible Man (film)

Invisible Man was one of the best films of recent years, let alone 2020. Moss was perfectly suited to the role and brought one of her best performances to date. But the direction helped make ‘the invisible man’ stalking Moss’s character truly terrifying, rather than a farcical ghost. It was a modern and progressive interpretation of the classic science-fiction novel.

Available on Amazon for UK audiences.

Harrow The Ninth (book)

A sequel to the superb Gideon The Ninth, the latest instalment became even more obsessed with manipulating souls, bones, genetic material, flesh and bodies. There was even a (sort of?) bio-engineered baby and deliberate reconfiguration of the brain. While not as engaging or revealing as the first book, Harrow The Ninth captured how haunted its protagonist is and sets up the next instalment perfectly. But please let Gideon be present. Her dialogue is much needed in a universe quite so bleak.

Away (TV show)

Okay, this is a show about space but, boring physics aside, this show deals with different disabilities, the importance of plant-life, the threat of a virus and how awful dehydration is. Biological issues are examined just as much as the mechanical issues. The first episode is a bit of a rollercoaster, but once the show gets going it is one of the best series around. The decision to cancel the show after only one season has raised yet more questions about Netflix’s direction.

Available on Netflix for UK audiences.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Last Ronin (comic)

The Last Ronin is one of the best instalments to the well known TMNT series. It is a heartbreaking ride for long-time fans, particularly when the identity of ‘the last ronin’ is revealed. The art is stunning, and the dialogue opens all kinds of wounds. It’s a must-read for any comic fan.

Final Fantasy VII Remake (PS4 game)

The remake of FFVII was one of the better games of the last year. There is a wonderful section where the player must make their way through a frankly ridiculous laboratory where evil experiments are carried out. The perceived mutant lion, Red XII, steals the latter part of the story. Introduced in the lab, the audience are left to question whether he is a mutant experiment or an entirely new species – or even a combination – and whether that distinction at all matters.

The game sets up the sequel fantastically. Yet, FFVII is often talked about with total revere that it arguably does not deserve, if only because games discussions tend to leave very little room for criticism. And there is worthy criticism: the characterisation of Barrett in particular is incredibly stereotypical and drags the game down. Yet, he is still the driving force of a spectacular show and if criticisms can be spoken, listened to, and learned from, then we might just be in for one hell of a finale.