Today’s storytelling involves a mishmash of apps, websites, blog tools, and technologies. Perspective simplifies all this by combining the essential elements of storytelling into a single iPad App.

It case that wasn’t clear, the statement came from a product description for Perspective, an iPad app that bills itself as a platform for audiovisual storytelling.

I find this interesting for a couple of reasons.

1) Apparently it’s not enough to present a narrative of information and data with just one tool. You need an amalgamation of data visualization tools and information/data interfaces to get your story told right. On the other hand, if you don’t want the hassle of learning how to use the mishmash of tools necessary for today’s storytelling, you can get an app that let’s you use just a one tool.

2) There’s more to your narrative than what the data can describe. Today’s storytelling isn’t about generalizability – it’s about the context in which it takes place, the way the action unfolds, and they way that action is conveyed to an audience. A mishmash of apps that introduce multiple visual and structural perspectives to the audience could be quite powerful – or it could obscure the strengths and weaknesses of certain narratives in favor of one busy impression of “story”.

There is a passive/aggressive feel to all of this. You need a story but no one is going to pay attention to it unless you jazz it up. I supposed the above statement is true – in the battle for eyeballs, you and your story need all the umph you can get. Isn’t interesting, though, that despite of our unparalleled access to information – rich, multi-layered mountains of information – it’s still the audience that gets the final word.

If I just stay in a narrowly-defined academic niche, my writing will be confined to papers for scholarly publication and grants. Those take time and, at least in areas like psychology, research results. You can’t just run one off every few days. Absent those specific outlets, there’s no regular mechanism for developing your thoughts, working out new ideas, thinking about interesting questions that may not be directly related to your field of research, taking the time to wonder about other areas, or having the flexibility to pursue other interests just because they stimulate your imagination. It’s papers for publication, grants for submission, or bust.

But for Konnikova, blogging isn’t a just way to keep the writing muscles flexed – it’s a path to developing a sleeker, swifter skill set and bring it to bear on a genre of writing that can often buckle under it’s own weight. We’ve always thought writing the occasional blog piece can come in handy – and it’s great to hear this from another grad.

I found the essay absolutely fascinating—a great encapsulation of what the kind of intellectual growth and development that happens (or at least ought to happen) in graduate school and the crucial role played by the advisor in guiding this process. And finally, this article, in pointing out an ideal advisor, just brought home to me how far I still have to go. The article is worth reading in full but here are some thoughts, on mentorship, graduate school, the process of writing and what it all means.  

On graduate school and mentoring

Sometimes in the mid-70′s (the story wasn’t very clear about this date) Ms. Hazen had written an article that caught Mr. Brazun’s attention. So he wrote to her wondering if she would be willing to expand that article (or any related ideas she may have) into a book. And thus began the story, or the multi-year saga of revisions and rewrites; of line edits that most probably never ended up in the final book; of cajoling and nudging; of frustration and breakthroughs. And in all this, steady at her side, as a mentor and friend was Barzun, attempting to make sense her “telescopic style” that essentially slammed together “six ideas with their heads and tails obscured by horrendous anatomical overlapping.” Hazen speaks honestly of how she was even unaware that “one idea might actually be three or four, or six, and I had to look hard to discover where all this overlapping occurred.”

As I was reading this, I was reminded of many dissertation proposals I have read, or sadly sometimes, even final dissertations that have a similar “horrendous anatomical overlapping” and the sinking feeling that the student has not yet realized that an important part of going to graduate school is learning to realize that “one idea might actually be three or four, or six” and that sometimes, one has to “look hard to discover where all this overlapping occurs.” Hazen started, as many doctoral students in the social science and humanities do, with certain feelings, “I love … I hate … that is so sad … that is so confusing … “ and it took a while for her to realize (as it does some graduate students), that at some level, writing a book (or going to graduate school) is about learning to ”make intelligent sentences out of such gooey snarls.”

There is much to be learned here—about writing, the role of mentorship, and complex transactional relationship between writing and thinking (one guiding / scaffolding the other, a double helix of understanding and instantiation).

But this article stuck with me for the manner in which Mr. Barzun guides and instructs Ms. Hazen through this entire process. This was easily the best description of what an ideal doctoral advisor should be. As Hazen says, “I began with simple ideas that he kept pushing at until they became less than simple. They often became so complicated that they confused even me, and then he pushed more until they became clear.”

And as for the crucial question, how much of the final work was Hazen’s and how much that of Barzun. Hazen ask’s that question and answers it as follows:

Did he change or create ideas? Time and again he assured me that he didn’t know what I was thinking:

My substituted words and phrases are only indications of possible lines of thought: I may have misunderstood your intent, so do not hesitate to put in something else. But each of my marks means ‘Trouble here—something to fix.’

But I do know that he made me develop ideas that I would not have arrived at without his coercion.

What a wonderful goal for an advisor—that you helped someone develop their ideas that they would not have emerged without your input.

This article just pointed to me, just how difficult being a good advisor is and just how much I still have to learn.

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On writing

One of the most fascinating parts of the article is a listing of seven annotated “admonitions” Barzun offers Hazen about her writing. I am including a couple of them here – but they are worth reading in full.

First, you must decide what your subject is.

I did not have a subject? Surely he was wrong! My subject was quite plainly men and women. And yet, bit by bit, I began to understand what he was saying.

Second, your chapters keep the reader wondering what indeed (what in hell) you are up to. … There is a staggering amount of repetition about what women do and men do. And your best original ideas, which should be the strong current by which the rest is carried, are stuck away in corners as mere asides, as trailing comments. In one sense, none of your chapters visibly does anything different from the previous one.

Third. The cure is obviously to assign each chapter A Point to Make—a big point with little ones clustering around. The successive points should be so ordered that they form an argument, a course of reasoning, which can be quickly summed up at the end. To find the points and their order, you need a half sheet of paper, headed “I believe that …” with brief propositions below. Fiddle with the sequence until it seems to you smooth and natural, by which is meant convenient to follow.

Thank you, Mr. Barzun, but I do not remember that any of this process was smooth and natural. A rough journey up a steep slope full of brambles, crawling and whimpering much of the way is what I remember.

Fourth. When you have this menu for your guest’s dinner, stick to the contents of each course as you serve it—no strawberries in the soup. … You must treat every topic once and be done with it—so you can build on top of it and not have to re-lay the foundation already set.

Strawberries in the soup indeed, an image that has stuck with me these many years.

Fifth. There are too many quotations and they are too long. The result is that the point of each is lost within the general tenor of the passage. Go over them and select the best bits for every different point—whip, kiss, rough words, whatever. … In short, remember that your authors merely illustrate the points of your thesis; your voice must be the one steadily heard, even when you recite the extracts relevant to the point you have just made.

This last bit was difficult: you establish your own voice and then let your quoted authors do the work for you. To take the lurid flourishes of Barbara Cartland and her like, or even those of the Brontës and George Eliot, and to put them into a sophisticated and convincing whole, wasn’t working. Just as he ordered, I had to learn to stand far back and speak for myself.

His sixth enjoinder had to do with nomenclature: romance, romanticism, romanticize. Easy stuff, compared with

Seventh. Most difficult of all your tasks will be to balance the kinds of material relevant to your doctrine… It is by the accumulation of varied bits of fact that skepticism is overcome.

So I sat down anew, looking at the murk in front of me and with a blank page began to write down my Points to Make. I pored over his commentary and slowly, slowly began to understand. It felt like I was growing new brain cells so that I could figure it out. It felt like I was growing smarter. The next stage was hellish.

*********

Un-twisting the tale

Finally, after reading the article, I went looking for the book, the artifact that emerged after so much time and effort by these two people. Turns out it is available on Amazon for apprimately $300 for a new copy and around $100 for a used version. One of the reviewers on Amazon (in fact the only reviewer) wrote the following:

It’s been several years since I read this slim volume (for a second time), but it’s one of those which I find myself looking for in bibliographies in order to rate an author’s expertise and depth of research. Surprisingly, and disappointingly, it seems to have been all but forgotten. This is a shame because it’s quite a fine book and well worth the attention of anyone interested in these difficult topics.

I remember it as being almost in the form of an extended, musing essay, full of interesting surprises and insights — the kind of book which makes you think about things differently than you did before without really being able to put words to it. Whenever I think of the book, I wonder why apparently nothing more was ever written by the author.

And that quote, takes the analogy of graduate school and the writing of this book to its logical culmination. “Surprisingly, and disappointingly, it seems to have been all but forgotten. This is a shame because it’s quite a fine book and well worth the attention of anyone interested in these difficult topics.” That, my friends, is the graduate school equivalent of the last scene in Raider’s of the Lost Ark!

But in lieu of actually wearing our new Glass, some of our EPET student technorati are keeping tabs on just how big this event was – and how much everyone, from celebraties and techies to researchers and investors,  are chomping at the bit:

Sandra Sawaya forwarded this TechCrunch article about some of the serious Glass applications that are being considered for development. Natasha Lomas reported on a list compiled by Stanford PhD student Andrej Karpathy of Glass winners who were notified through their Twitter accounts (ideaplay.org was notified through Google+ so we’re not in the list). The screenshot shows just a taste of the different applications developers are eager to test…

And just this morning, Chris Shaltry forwarded us an article in CNET that details Google plans to get “Google Glass Explorer Edition into the hands of developers within the next month.” In addition, both that article and one from ABC News detail announcements from major venture capital firms who are now lining up to invest in the development efforts – proof that Glass is generating significant excitement in financial spheres. We hope we can tell you very soon whether the excitement is warranted or not.

	A short teaser, letting the viewer know what to anticipate, often by using an intriguing visual and music.  Click the image for a Discovery Channel winner!In pedagogical terms, this is the anticipatory set to engage the learner and focus the lesson.
	Within the first few minutes, there’s a 2+ minute commercial break.  This gives viewers time to settle in and get comfortable. Try it:  Short ‘infomercials’ for upcoming assignments and responding to procedural questions fits well here.
	The first 10 – 15 minute story segment introduces essential characters, setting and plot.  Right when there is a major breakthrough to be had, the story pauses giving the viewer time to speculate about upcoming solutions. What if…you stopped your content right before the most exciting part, and gave think time?
	Following a longer commercial break where viewers can stretch and take a quick break, the second main story segment often explores a number of different solutions to the problem from segment one. How can independent or group practice be used to help your students internalize your content?
	With a few minutes left on the clock, you are left hanging once again.  You think your answer is the right one, but you’re not sure.  Another commercial break gives you an opportunity to talk with others about your solution.This is a great opportunity for a Think|Pair|Share
	Amazing, but in just one or two minutes, not only do you find out if your hypothesis was correct, you are given a bit of information hooking you into watching the next episode!What unanswered question can you give your students, so they will want to come back next week?

This strategy also fits nicely with the 6 step planning model from Madeline Hunter.

I was a pretty happy-go-lucky grad student during the coursework phase. Yes, I was very tired of coursework by the time I finished, but for the most part I enjoyed the structured process of exploring topics my professors suggested I explore, on the schedule that they and the semester system required. My time was comfortably structured by the demands of two or three syllabi. Life was good.

Before I knew it, though, the coursework was done, the comprehensive exam was done, and the comforting structure of a syllabus, with clearly marked due dates on assigned work, was gone.  I was sitting in front of a blank Word document trying to map out my own structure for the next several months of my life. There it was again – that feeling of not knowing what I wanted to be when and if I ever grew up. “Why am I here?”, I kept thinking. “I used to be a real adult with a real job. What am I doing here?”

I spent a few months feeling like I was floundering – groping for ideas, developing them to a point, abandoning them when I ran into brick walls and wasn’t sufficiently passionate about the topic to push through. But eventually, one of my topics “stuck.” I noticed that my voice got higher and squeakier when I talked about it. I cared about it. I ran into issues with planning the study, but this time I was willing to grapple with and resolve them. The amorphous glob of thoughts, conversations with my advisor, and really bad writing eventually took the shape of a coherent research proposal, and then that proposal was approved. Of course, I ran into a few frustrations and delays while actually doing the research, but I could deal with that because I had a plan to follow.  Life was good again.

Now two of my advisees are nearing completion of their coursework and beginning to work on their proposals. They are both “non-traditional” grad students (like I was) who have proven themselves to be responsible, resilient, mature adults, but now that the structured part of the program is ending, I occasionally have to talk them down from the ledge of panic and self-doubt. All I can tell them is that it’s normal to feel this way. They are at the hardest stage of a PhD program, and most, if not all, of the successful PhDs they know have been in their shoes at some point, feeling the same fear. I tell them it gets better once the proposal is successfully defended. And I can honestly tell them that I think it’s worth it.

MSU EPET SITE 2013 experience from Sandra Sawaya on Vimeo.

• Treat attending the conference like a job – there were enough presentations and events (and the need to reflect on all the things happening) to be busy from the start to the end of the day
• But have fun – my favorite memories were interacting with colleagues from my program all around the conference
• Forget about having a normal work week – I tried to Skype into a meeting at MSU, and it didn’t work not because I was not physically there, but because I was in between sessions and thinking about things related to the conference
• This is obvious, but some quick notes I took went a long way to helping me reflect – I’ll take more next time
• Bring friends – I think a large reason I had so much fun was my EPET colleagues, and I only wish a few more could have come

Photo curtesy of Punya Mishra (http://punya.educ.msu.edu/2013/04/01/site2013-new-orleans-2/)

(Reposted from the author’s personal blog: http://studydesigned.com/2013/04/03/reflections-on-attending-my-first-conference/)

For another great and inspiring collection check out the book Visual Miscellaneum by David McCandless.