Zero Corrections?

It would be really nice to have no corrections to complete after your viva!

I bet that would feel great.

Hope for it, but that’s all it is: a hope that your writing, proofreading and efforts didn’t miss any mistakes that need fixing. A hope that your thinking has been clear and consistent across tens of thousands of words.

 

Corrections are a part of the process for most PhD candidates. It’s not because most candidates are sloppy: it’s a reflection that writing is hard, editing is hard and proofreading is hard.

It would be really, really nice to have no corrections to complete after your viva!

You’ll probably have more than zero to resolve. Accept that situation when you submit, do the work that’s asked and then move on.

Doing, Done and Nerves

The key difference between transfer or upgrade vivas and the final viva:

At a transfer viva you need to talk about what you’re potentially going to be doing – and at your final viva you’re talking about you’ve done.

Postgraduate researchers can feel very nervous at both though!

For some PhD candidates, I think that final viva nerves might be the still reverberating echoes of the transfer viva. If that was a nerve-wracking event you might think this final viva will be a stressful event too.

Remember you’re not the same person you were then. Your final viva is not the same situation. At the end of your first year there was still so much you were doing and so much to do. At the final viva you are done.

By The End…

…of your first thesis draft you’ll probably be wondering what to do, what to focus on and how long you’ll need to fix anything that needs fixing.

…of the day when you submit your thesis you can hopefully take a deep breath, relax and smile a little.

…of your viva prep period you’ll appreciate that you are ready.

…of the last minute before your viva I hope, despite any nerves, that you’ll feel like you are enough.

…of your viva I hope that you feel it was a good experience.

…of your PhD I hope you feel good for whatever challenges are in your future.

The Final Hours

A full-time PhD could take about a thousand days from when you start work on your research to when you submit your thesis.

Getting ready for your viva is a modest chunk of work that could take twenty or thirty hours spread out over two to four weeks.

The viva itself might go by so fast that you’ll blink and miss it! Two, three, four hours? Maybe less, certainly not much more even for a “long” viva.

 

Thousands and thousands of hours of work to get to submission.

Twenty or thirty more to get ready.

Two or three to finally get the job done.

Those final hours matter, but rather than stress about what will, won’t or might happen in those few hours, it’s probably better to focus on the work you will have done in the thousands of hours before then.

It’s Never Just Luck

“Luck” during a PhD can only come from your working to be in a good space to begin with.

“Luck” with a result or an idea or the final state of your thesis is the result of work, not simple good fortune.

“Luck” in the viva’s outcome denies all you’ve done.

Don’t be so modest. Don’t downplay what you did, and what you can do. Yes, you may have been fortunate, but you still had to work for that opportunity or outcome!

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on July 7th 2020.

The Knack

My dad passed away quite suddenly when I was 17. I first shared this post on what would have been his 70th birthday. He’s been on my mind a lot lately.

When I was little my dad was often self-employed. He had been made redundant from his job when I and my sisters were quite small. For most of our childhood he had a stall at markets around the North West and in Scotland. I remember bagging biscuits at our dining table from huge boxes. I remember bundling tea towels and dusters, taking five and folding them a certain way, throwing a rubber band around them to hold bundles together. Seriously, I remember those afternoons quite fondly.

In the summer holidays my dad would let me help with various games he ran at fairs and carnivals. My favourite game was one where you had to throw a small wooden ball into a metal bucket. The bucket was inside a wooden frame, painted to look like a clown’s mouth; you just stood at a distance and tried to throw the ball in. This was the 1980s, so it was only 20p for three balls, and the spectacular prize was a coconut!

I remember the call still, “Ball in the bucket to win, just a ball in the bucket to win!

It was not easy. For a start, the bucket was pitched at an angle that encouraged the ball to rebound. The balls were ping-pong sized and dense: if you threw too hard they would bounce right back out. If you threw too soft, you might not get the ball in the target at all. Overarm shots always span out.

Ball in the bucket to win, just a ball in the bucket to win!” he would call out and throw the ball and DING! there it would land. Most people paying their 20p had never tried it before, never thought of playing anything like this. It was just something fun to spend 20p on.

There was no great trick, there was no con involved: it was just really hard. My dad had the knack though. He’d mastered this really hard skill. He’d found a challenge he knew was tricky, but spent a lot of time practising. He could throw the ball just so and have it land in the bucket every time. He made it look effortless, but that’s because the effort had been put in over years.

I tried and tried, failing many times, but still remember the first time I got my own DING! I kept going, and while I wasn’t as precise as my dad, I started to reach a point where I could get the ball in the bucket consistently. Practice, experience, nothing more.

Back to the present: your PhD is hard, but there are aspects of it you make seem effortless to others. That’s not to say it’s not still hard to you, but you can do it. You’re practised, you’re experienced. At the viva you can answer a question and engage with a discussion nearly every time because you’ve done so much during your PhD.

After all this time you have the knack.

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on February 28th 2018.

The End of the Line

The town I live in is the last stop on our local train service. It’s been five months since I’ve travelled by train for work – or at all, come to think of it – but whenever I was returning from a trip, there was something really nice about knowing that I was a few stops away from the end of the line. Almost home.

A few more stops and I’m there. Down the road, right at the traffic lights, up the hill a little and two more corners and home.

The viva is a little like the end of the line. It’s the final station; maybe your research train arrives after what feels like a very long journey. Perhaps you’ve had to make several changes along the way. Hopefully there haven’t been too many delays – especially in the final stages. I imagine if your submission or viva is coming soon, given this year, then the end of your PhD trip has been tough.

And now you’re almost there. Almost. Because there’s still a short walk through corrections, past streets of necessary admin and paperwork, before finally you’ve reached your real destination.

Remember that your viva might be the end of the line, but you’ve a little way to go yet.

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on August 18th 2020.

Hard Limits

There are limits for everything related to your PhD journey.

There is a finite number of hours you could have spent on your PhD.

You can’t read everything that could be relevant. You would never have time to work towards your research in a practical way.

You can’t do everything that might advance your research goals. You would never have time to write up your thesis.

You have to make choices. You have to accept the limits, like them or not. You have to work within them, whether you want to or not. And, of course, the last eighteen months will have brought more limits.

Rather than rail against the limits and the maybes and the could-have-dones, reflect on how the limits of your PhD have had an impact. Explore the difficult limitations as you might have to talk about them in the viva. Remember that despite the limits – or in some cases, because of the limits – you have made it through.

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on September 20th 2021.

Generalisations

Be careful when you come to generalise your probable viva experience.

Regulations, viva stories and hearing about vivas from your department all have a role to play in building up your personal expectations. Be sure you have enough suitable information to build your expectations.

This idea also counts for when you think about your work.

You can’t generalise past experiences and responses to your research directly to your viva. Seminars, and past discussions don’t dictate what your examiners might make of your research. If you’ve had tricky meetings or difficult conference talks in the past that doesn’t have to define your future viva experience.

 

Read regulations, ask people you can trust and build up a good picture of what to expect. Reflect on your journey and remember that you have grown throughout the process.

You are capable, you are good enough and you must have made something by now.

That’s a reasonable generalisation to make about someone close to their viva.

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on November 11th 2023.

To Be Continued

After submission you need to prepare for your viva – but you also need to prepare for life after the PhD.

For some that could be simple (or welcome!) but for all candidates, particularly those who have attachments to physical spaces, people or even access to resources, consider:

  • What do you need to take home with you? When will you do it? How will you do it?
  • Who do you need and want to stay in contact with? How will you do that?
  • What will you do when you don’t have access to library resources, software or other things that disappear when you are no longer a student? If you’re typically contactable by a university email address, how will you tell people where to find or reach you?

If you’re not sure if you plan to continue with research in some way, then really think about what you need to take home. Do you need all your notes? Do you need all of your papers?

Whatever you need to do, remember that life goes on. You will continue to have opportunities to show your ability and knowledge. Reflect on what you are taking away from your PhD journey – and remember that all of that talent and capability is available to you in your viva as well.

 

Viva Survivors Summer Sabbatical: I’m taking July, August and September off from new writing to concentrate on other creative projects, so will be sharing a post from the archives every day throughout those months. Today’s post was originally published on February 11th 2023.