the challenge

Thesis Diary #12: Tom Valcanis, MA (ComnMediaSt)

It's done. The thesis is finally handed in and done with. Unless it's a complete cock up, you may call me Master.

But in the last couple of days I've just been feeling incredibly directionless and empty. The words are affixed to paper and the work that I've poured into them seems to have amounted to little more than a pat on the back and a couple of letters I can stick on the end of my name on my business card. It seems my life since the start of 2010 was almost defined by the pursuit of this qualification - now its at the end, I've fallen into the void between a closed point and a new beginning and I'm fumbling around in the dark while I figure out my route out of there.

So I ask myself: what now? There's no concrete succession plan when you're asked to hand in your library card and gun* at the end of (another) degree. You're given the diploma and some platitudes and you're sent on your merry way.

Quite vaguely, I do have a goal. I'll be embarking on another journey towards integration and recovery for the last half of the year, reinforcing my "spine" and softening my "heart." During this time I'll be working to establish myself in the tightly bound and seemingly impenetrable media culture of Australia or even...the world?

I've said my (online) thank yous and perhaps now it's time to say my goodbyes. I was looking for work online the other day when it dawned on me - there's now nothing keeping me in Melbourne; I could theoretically work anywhere I wanted (domestically of course.) So I unchecked the "Melbourne only" option for the first time while browsing careers websites. Why restrict myself to one place? You can't follow your dreams sitting in the one spot, unless your dream is sitting on the couch all day playing Xbox.**

Now I close my thesis diary with this: Thank you, friends. I love you all. Wish me luck.

*they issued me with a gun?
**I don't even have an Xbox. I hear they're quite fun.

Thesis Diary #11: The Real Thing

Maybe I'm not in the 1% of people who think they're gonna be successful musicians and are totally right, but in the 99% of talentless, misguided dickheads.
- Jeremy Usborne (from Peep Show)
Now that my thesis is in the capable editing hands of the meticulous and most lovely Leticia, I've been trying to move on to the next step - convincing someone to give me the cash.

So I made an appointment with a careers adviser at the university and she nodded when I replied to her questions, gave me some helpful leaflets and books and sent me on my merry way. In the midst of some sporadic copywriting and media consulting work, I really have to move into phase II of my master plan - making a real career out of journalism and writing in general.

I have some ideas and after being knocked back a few times by editors, I finally found a home for a piece on the "media virus" - but I also had an epiphany strolling around a supermarket today. And they say this is what it's like, forever - as Devin Townsend once sang.

I will face a barrage of rejection and stonewalling as I shop around my works. But then there's an added kicker of my own self-doubting and self-loathing when it comes to almost anything I produce. Something that's plagued me since childhood is the fact I don't think my writing is worth anything of note. I've always figured writing was what I was good at, but I'm at pains to believe that it's marketable or even passable. The gulf between the "greats" and the lowly prose etched out by yours truly seems almost too distant to traverse. Even praise from on high will be taken with skepticism, so what can be done to overcome such a debilitating perfectionist streak in which almost nothing I write will be sent to a publisher or editor without any reservation - something that I can really believe in?

This is the curse of attending so called "elite" institutions - others may hold me up as an overachiever but in my eyes I'm anything but - I barely have a bank balance over triple digits these days and I still live with my folks. My car has smash damage I can't afford to repair and a warning light glows from my dashboard every time I cautiously start my engine; my fingers tremble on the keys as I turn over the ignition, hoping that it'll still start.

Middle class problems, sure; but the charge that I'm an overachiever doesn't really hold water with me.

Then there is the cognitive dissonance after a year and a half of a Master of Communication and Media studies. Erin, a dear friend of mine pointed out that my degree is largely theoretical and not a pure "journalism" degree. Though it was covered briefly, there was no opportunity to simulate a newsroom setting in print, online, radio or for television. Sure, I can rattle off what McChesney thinks of commercialism and globalization or what Ong thinks of the Orality-Literacy divide, but which kind of employer gives a shit about that at the end of the day? Perhaps, I took the wrong course after all? But what is done cannot be undone, so I press onward.

That said, it almost feels like despite all the advances I've made as I charge headlong into the frontier of the future, there are undefended salients forgotten by the reserve units only to have their lines breached time and time again. But what causes their retreat? The overwhelming "parental" voice that reminds me nothing I do is ever satisfactory? An incessant drilling into my head from an early age that making money is the root of all success? The lack of understanding from friends and family of what really is important to me as a man and as a writer? The lack of patience that has plagued me from the beginning - if something doesn't come naturally, I may as well give up? I mean, look at all these people that are "better" than me, can I ever truly equal them? I suppose since January of last year I have moved from a definite "no" to an open-ended "maybe." Getting to an unequivocal "yes" is the hard part.

It almost drives me to tears, bashing my head against a wall to remedy all these maladaptive beliefs in order to replace them with rational, real-world, true-to-fact views. This year and a half has been one of transition from the individual riddled with psychic scars and gripped by fear to an integrated man, unafraid of the future and ready to steel himself against the barrage of attack and accept the beauty and tenderness of love from friends, lovers and family.

Though trite and cliche, the irreducible fact is that as long as I'm trying, as long as I'm plunging one foot in front of the other and trying to learn from my mistakes then I've won half the battle. So I'll say to myself here and attempt to remember these words as I write and read them:

Keep moving, Tom. Don't look back.

Thesis Diary #10: The End of the Line

"Most people listen to rock n’ roll, others read about it and some actually have the lunacy to write about it.”
- Mike Saunders
So, it's finished. 18,275 words all devoted to the service of not really proving anything conclusive. My contention that labels influence rock journalism more than they did in the 1960s. My reply? Are you sure about that? It saves you reading the whole thing that way. I doubt many people would at the end of the day.

That's what's so painful about today - realizing a grand total of 10 people in the entire world will read what I had to write and I'll get a piece of paper that will represent the one-third contribution to what it actually stands for. I'll get (read: rent) a cool mortarboard (for an afternoon), but that's not the point.

Anyone in academia will know about the loneliness and isolation the pursuit of intellectual interrogation brings. For the past six months I've mostly stared  at words on a screen and a blinking cursor. As I was talking to the very funny guys of the Four Horsemen program on BlogTalkRadio today, I realized I'd have to go through a steady period of re-socialization, despite keeping up Hapkido classes and other routine meetings. I've not had time for meeting new people or keeping track of old friends since every activity that wasn't devoted to the completion of the thesis felt like a luxury. 

It's a feeling of emptiness - I almost don't want to let go and move on. It's consumed me for such a long time (well, it feels that way) it'll take some adjusting to the real world once it's actually handed in on June 20th. I'm thinking of having a graduation party - I very much hope connecting with friends both old and new will revitalize me from this six month hellride. But the feeling of relief? Indescribable. Thank fuck this is over.