Here’s the problem that I am facing. When I started what is now my book project over a decade ago, I didn’t really know what I was doing. I certainly wasn’t thinking: I am writing a book that needs to have a coherent location in a field of scholarship. I just discovered a topic I was interested in and started working on it.

I started noticing a particular theme in literature, let’s call it: the theme of Short People. I started paying attention to Short People in various works of literature in a certain time period and developed an argument about the representation of Short People and, voila! A dissertation.

Meanwhile, around the same time, a new school of thought was emerging, let’s call it Shortness Studies. So, by the time I finished my dissertation, I needed to be able to situate my study of Short People within Shortness Studies — but Shortness Studies was a fairly new area and it wasn’t that difficult to get a grasp on its main points.

As I continued to tinker away at my study of Short People over the years — sporadically, with various degrees of interest and enthusiasm, and generally distracted by other pressing responsibilities like teaching — I grew rather dissatisfied with my take on Short People. Eventually I noticed that, while I thought I was studying Short People, I was actually studying Short People Who Wear Shoes! Imagine my surprise! But, the introduction of the Shoe Paradigm suddenly gave my book a new and useful framework; I was able to visualize the entire project in a new way.

Unfortunately, I also recognized that there was an entire body of criticism surrounding People Who Wear Shoes. A large, long-standing, rather bulky body of criticism about which I knew nothing. So, in order to finish my book, I gave myself a crash course in People Who Wear Shoes criticism — but, let’s face it, I don’t know that much. I’ve never studied or taught People Who Wear Shoes criticism. I haven’t envisioned myself as working in this field before so none of my book is really oriented towards it.

One of the critiques I received about my introduction is that I treat People Who Wear Shoes criticism rather superficially and I need a more substantial engagement with it. I don’t find this criticism surprising but I am feeling completely defeated by trying to address it.

Because, let’s face it, I don’t give a shit about People Who Wear Shoes criticism. It hasn’t played any role in my thinking over the many years that I’ve been laboring on this project. I am only writing about it now because I need to — so that I can deflect all the critics who would take one look at my project and say, “But, how does it relate to People Who Wear Shoes criticism??”

Not only do I not care about People Who Wear Shoes criticism, I don’t have time to try to learn more about it. It’s completely overwhelming, this massive school of thought that I could spend years getting a hang of.

So what’s an overworked, overwhelmed, depressed scholar supposed to do? I’ve tried being fiercely optimistic and just barrelling ahead. I’ve tried crying into my pillow. I’ve sent myself back to the library to read more People Who Wear Shoes criticism. I’ve thrown People Who Wear Shoes criticism across the room because it is just so freaking dense and useless. I’ve tried writing more generalities — and then erased them. I’ve tried writing more specifics and realized that I don’t know what the hell I’m writing about.

Fair to say: Today I’m feeling stuck and frustrated.