So I was pleased to find Creative Writing in the Academy, a blog about creative writing research from Deanna Carlyle and Remittance Girl, who are both starting on the PhD journey.

There are two resources on here which are invaluable — the Creative Writing Conferences for Postgrad Writers list and the Resources for the Creative Writing Postgraduate Applicant page — where was this when I was agonising over my application!

It’s written in an easy-going accessible style and is specifically related to my discipline, which is rare, so I have no hesitation in recommending them to creative writers in academia. It’s also inspiring me to blog more about my personal journey through the PhD in the hope that my experiences with resonate with other students and help those who are puzzling over the mysteries of what exactly a practice-based PhD entails. More on that one soon!

I live and work in two countries: India and Britain and within two cultures which are usually perceived as extremely different to each other. From where I stand, it’s the similarities which strike home.

In both, the figure of the scholar standing apart from the crowd in a kind of meditative and ethereal calm holds popular currency.  As an undergraduate at Cambridge, one of the first jokes I read in the fresher’s pack was this one: “How many Cambridge students does it take to change a lightbulb?” Answer: One – s/he holds it to the socket and the world turns around her/him. (Okay, I admit the gender sensitive language is my addition but it’s in my bones : )).

There is probably no British university which doesn’t have a version of this joke, and I still think it’s quite good. For my purpose here I just want to point out that it’s funny because the idea of a self-enclosed and, materially speaking, rather at-sea scholar is, in my experience, widely accepted as a common truth.

In India, particularly in Bengal where I live for some of the year and where knowledge for it’s own sake is a core, cultural value, the attitude is a little different. A scholar is still seen often as detached from the material world-  but this is a positive thing. It shows that the person in question is following the life of the mind.

Teachers and researchers are far from being the only professionals who are thus subtly encouraged to live a unidimensional life. Any urban professional, anywhere – and the way our world works, an ambitious professional in any field does need to spend at least part of their career being urban – is similarly expected to focus on the visual and the mental.

But we are starving ourselves. At least, that’s how it feels to me. I didn’t realize how much until I took up a yoga and movement course, which has helped me to bring movement back into my daily work day. I am not just my head, I’m a complete human being. My research and teaching are better because I am, quite simply, happier. Yoga, of course, isn’t everyone’s movement-genre of choice but for anyone who’s curious to know how this might work, do take a look at this site, where I found the course I eventually signed up to : http://www.joyrebel.com/.

And now, to finally get that light bulb screwed in : ).

Being a bit of a writer, and therefore a lot of a reader, I naturally turned to books to help me, and I found that there weren’t a lot around. There are plenty of books on how to get your PhD, but not so many on how to get onto one in the first place!

So here’s a recommendation for anyone preparing to unleash their brilliant research proposal on unsuspecting profs: The PhD Application Handbook by UK researcher Peter J Bentley, which has nearly 200 pages of invaluable advice.

This book is useful for prospective researchers in all disciplines, with a wide range of examples given. It’s really easy to read, and absolutely fascinating. Suddenly I knew the answers to some of the questions I dared not ask — how not to annoy the departmental secretaries or any of my prospective supervisors, who to approach first, how long to wait before enquiring about my application and so on.

I would recommend starting at the beginning and working through. You may want to skip the ‘Why do you want to do a PhD?’ part, but these are the questions the uni will ask, so be sure you really do know! There is tons of funding information, which will be invaluable for most students.

Personally, I found the chapter on preparing my application the most helpful, but the book is full of insights which will ensure that you present yourself as well as you possibly can. It also goes further than the application, holding your hand all the way through securing the offer, finding accommodation and some solid advice on beginning your PhD.

If you are wondering what it’s all about, you’ll feel much more confident with this book (and the Jobs.ac.uk PhD blogs!) to help you.

I imagine the headline and tag-line intended to raise hackles, as plenty of readers of The Economist are bound to have a postgraduate degree. Indeed, the comments were closed after 190, and there were five letters to the editor printed in the next edition.

The article covers many of the negative sides of doing a PhD, asserting that ‘Seven-day weeks, ten-hour days, low pay and uncertain prospects are widespread.’ Of course, they aren’t going to publish a piece which says how wonderful the system is and how happy all PhD students are, because that would be boring, and untrue! But there is clearly some bias in a piece written by someone who admits they themselves ‘slogged through a largely pointless PhD’ (p. 144).

Naturally universities are making use of postgrads as ’cheap, highly motivated and disposable labour’ — with all the cuts to education budgets, they need to. Internships and a general lack of permanent contracts are becoming very common in other industries, such as the media, where eager young things can be paid less than the minimum wage for the privilege of getting a foot in the door. It is only right that universities make use of the skilled people they have nurtured.

The main thrust of the argument is that there are more PhDs being handed out than there are academic posts. The article acknowledges that not every PhD student wants to become an academic, but insists on pursing this point — maybe to be expected in a magazine called The Economist? In any case, that a PhD doesn’t guarantee a job, academic or otherwise, is fairly obvious, but student numbers continue to rise: ‘Between 1998 and 2006 the number of doctorates handed out in all OECD countries grew by 40%’ (p. 142).

The article fails to mention what attracts all these students: access to amazing resources, other researchers, mentors, financial support, and the pleasure of working on something you’re passionate about. As one comment (by Albert Dutch) says, “This is the beauty of a PhD: you love what you do.” (Check out Jobs.ac.uk blogger Heather Doran on this.)

Of course it’s not all pleasure — I have days where I can’t bear to look at my work, I’m living on cash from the odd shift down the pub, staying in a cabin at the bottom of my parents’ drive, and working on a laptop that crashes at least once a day. I looked very hard at all the negatives before deciding to sign up to a PhD — and sign on the dotted line of a rather large loan.

Undergraduate degrees have come in for the same sort of stick as this article gives out, and it filters all the way down to the yearly cries of ‘Exams are too easy these days!’ aimed at GCSEs and A-Levels. Way to cheapen someone’s years of hard work and sense of achievement. We don’t want Mickey-Mouse PhDs, and the difficulties of research means a lot of work on the part of both students and institutions to ensure that they get and deliver excellence.

There’s no guarantee of a great job or better money (and the notes about the narrow gap in salary levels between Masters and PhDs will interest those keen on the money), but students of the calibre needed to succeed in research at a good university can surely be more confident about their prospects.

This is why many universities have research training in things like academic and CV writing, presentations and teamwork — transferable skills which make you valuable in the wider job market. Even without specific training, many of these skills will be gained in the course of doing a PhD.

As one of my research training workshop leaders put it, “Well if you are intending to go into academia, good luck! And make sure you have other options.” His statement was met with wry laughter; much of the negative side of research is well known. If you are thinking of applying and don’t know, grab yourself a book like The PhD Application Handbook by Peter J Bentley.

There’s more to getting a career out of the PhD than simply doing the research — another thing research training often stresses. Researchers should not be isolated. Get out there and network, help in your department, go to conferences, get published — all of which will open up a slew of opportunities. (I’ve met two publishers interested in my work, got the chance to blog here, and had one-on-one tutorials with my favourite author since starting, and none of that came from my department spoon-feeding me).

If the PhD won’t be of any use to you in the career path you are on, if you cannot get onto a good course, can’t get funding or afford to support yourself, don’t do a PhD. This is the common-sense approach. Feel free to ignore it and do a PhD for the love and spend a big wodge of cash if you want to, of course — people definitely do.

The article runs to three pages and I don’t have space to comment on all its assertions, but have a read and see how many times you say, “Yes, but…!”