That's My Bix!

I had a hellish time sleeping last night and woke up bolt awake at 2 am. Then I was certain I couldn’t go back to sleep — I had physical pain and all manner of angst. Esteban decided he’d sleep in the guest room again because Ole has turned bedtime into a terror — we have a new open crate on order for him but who knows when that will get here (about the same time as my stamp order, apparently, which seems to be super lost). Then I did my mantra of “resting quietly while awake is still beneficial” which tends to be my method for falling back asleep. Then I woke up again at 4 am and then again at 6 am and just gave up at that point and got up.

Then I took a shower, defended my dissertation and completed my Ph.D. requirements. This is the selfie I took moments after I got off the call where all of my committee called me Doctor Bix.

There were an astonishing 20 plus people on the call, including one of my colleagues who is doing a fellowship in the UK. My sister was there, Weetacon folks, Esteban, my in-laws, so many of my besties, and lots of people from the program. It was completely unlike my experience at in the masters program in Wisconsin. This time I really felt like I was a rock star who jumped into the crowd and was lifted, weightless, by so many strong hands.

Also, the committee liked the book. Even though it is about a pandemic where everyone is sheltering in their homes, and even though it is funny scary sad and even though I took a giant risk with the ending, they liked it. One called it perfect. One said it was very much in the spirit of John Irving. One said she was in love with it. Then I had to step away and everyone in the gallery had to leave so that the committee could talk about the novel and my study privately and confer whether I had met the requirements of the Ph.D.

Reader, I did.

When I came back, they told me that it took so long for them to call me back because they were talking about how much they are going to miss me in the department and how much community I built while I was there. One opined that they wish they could have picked the people who took an extra year to complete their work, because they wanted another year with me. One said she was crying while I was out of the meeting about how much they’re going to miss me.

Here’s the text from one of the committee members, calling me back to the “room”, and then the subsequent texts after the defense was done (one of the settings of my novel is the Southeast Farallon Island during Great White shark season. The island is also a habitat for really annoying kelp flies).

After a bunch of phone calls, we ordered take out lunch from a neighborhood place, came back to the house, and then I watched an episode of Little Fires Everywhere. After three solid years of running as fast and as hard as I can, it feels so weird to stand still.

I recorded the defense although I guess it took the mode I was in, which is teleconference with tiny boxes so that I could see the faces of the committee members, rather than in Speaker View. I’ll probably rewatch at some point, or upload the file somewhere, but for now, I’d rather not have to listen to my stupid blathering. For now, I’d much rather remember the feeling, the sensations and the moment where this novel that has been inside of my head for so long was discussed by some brilliant people as though it actually is a real actual book.

Damn it. I guess this is really real now.