closely reading advice from a literature phd: a peek into the archives
check out this collection of all my in-depth writing & reading lessons, out from behind the paywall for a limited time
Hi friend,
This afternoon I’m sipping a Poppi Doc Pop soda on ice, in my favorite glass jar, while listening to a witchy playlist featuring Cher and Helen Reddy and Stevie Nicks and Electric Light Orchestra. It’s fantastic.
I just put out a few of my prized Halloween decorations around my house, including a campy painted portrait of a cat in Shakespearean garb, which makes me so happy. I’ve also got my favorite orange-and-black buffalo plaid blanket out on my couch and I’m thinking I need one of those cute ghost or pumpkin pillows to go with it…?
Today I’m all about refreshing and reflecting.
The fall is my most brainy time: it’s when my ideas flow easiest and my desire to write and read tends to double, compared to the warmer months (where I mostly recline like a Victorian neurotic until the sun goes way).
This is all to say that over the last few weeks, I’ve started working on long-form guides for paid subscribers where I share insights like “how to write like a lit scholar” and “how to closely read like a phd student” and give you an even deeper dive into the lessons I learned as a grad student.
Today, I’m sharing a full list of the guides and how-to essays I’ve shared here on Closely Reading over the last couple of years—and I pulled some of the best ones out from behind the paywall! You can get a sneak peek at even more archival pieces with a 7-day free trial, which I highly recommend taking advantage of.
Okay — now to the list. I hope you find a piece or two worth bookmarking.
The pieces compiled here dive into some of the basics, guided close reading practices and activities you can try on your own, and loads of insights into tips & tricks I picked up while I studied literature for 10+ years.
Learn how to read like a lit scholar
Get a basic definition of close reading and how to know when you’re starting to do it
Follow along in guided activities to try something new in your next reading session
Read about my personal explorations of what it means to do academic work outside of the academy
These essays provide the kinds of writing lessons I used to conduct with my college writing students.
Learn about common causes of writer’s block and how to overcome them
Get a free-writing exercise designed to help you have a super productive brainstorming or writing sessions
Read one of my most-read and most-reposted essays about why I hate book reviews and prefer reading reflections, instead
If there’s something you’d like to know about my PhD experience or types of lessons for reading or writing that you’d like to see from me, let me know in the comments. I would love to include your questions or ideas in my upcoming guide about PhD reading and writing practices.
(And if you’re in application mode: let me know your top questions or anxieties. I’m also working on a guide for applying to literature programs, complete with writing sample prompts. Let me know what else you’d like to see in that guide!)
All my book club folks: are you ready to read The Yellow Wall-paper with me this week?! Everyone is welcome to join us—details are in the full fall syllabus!
‘Til next time, happy reading
I would love to see posts prior to each group read with suggestions on themes, images, etc. to track while I'm annotating, ideally with an example or two for each suggestion pulled from the book itself. (Similar to what you pointed out with seeing/eyes in Passing, but before we start.)
For example, I just finished reading Frankenstein for another group read. One of the themes I tracked was hubris/creative overreaching/pursuit of glory, and the first passage I noted was in Volume 1, Letter 1, where Walton says, "you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind."
This made me laugh. I hear you!
'The fall is my most brainy time: it’s when my ideas flow easiest and my desire to write and read tends to double, compared to the warmer months (where I mostly recline like a Victorian neurotic until the sun goes way).'