Some news: I have my very first peer-reviewed article shortly to be published! As a result, I have spent the better portion of this morning going over the proofs with a fine-tooth comb. I have now seen the page mock-up complete with pagination and the suggested citation and o jeez! It's so exciting!
The thought that people might cite me... or better yet, take issue with something I've said- marvellous. But as I'm a bit superstitious or have taken heed when warned not to count chickens before eggs have hatched, I will refrain from giving away too much information on the off chance that something goes awry before the volume is printed and bound.
If and when that happens with my article included in the number, then I will boast proudly all over Fashademic and hyperlink in a very unsubtle manner in case you want to rush over and buy a copy (o, come on! You totally will.)
Meanwhile, in cross-referencing my cited page numbers (I do lead a thrilling life) I came across this gem. So here's one for all the post-grads out there:
As Isaiah Berlin remarked somewhere, it is better to write of things one believes one knows something about than to anguish in high despair over the manifold difficulties of knowing things at all. And better as well, having taken the plunge, to allow oneself to enjoy it. Doing ethnography can be a great deal of fun, and disguising the fact on paper, as though it were something to be ashamed of, is less than totally honest. It may also be less than effective. Current fashions notwithstanding, clenched teeth and furrowed brow are no guarantee of literary success. In crafting one's prose, as in going about one's fieldwork, it is always permissible- and sometimes highly informative- to smile and even to laugh.