Just a wee toot

Two voices dispute within me: my dissertation director, who warned me that I'd never survive in academe if I didn't learn to toot my own horn, and my New England Puritan ancestors, who quail in shame at any hint of boasting. It's impossible to appease both voices, but maybe those stern and austere Puritans will cut me some slack if I emit just a wee hint of fanfare over here in the corner while nobody's listening.

Toot.

Look here: the e-book I co-edited is now available for download.

I realize that co-editing a collection of conference proceedings will make hardly a dent on my Vita and that conference proceedings are of little interest to anyone who didn't attend the conference and that an e-book doesn't sit in the hand or thump on the desk as satisfyingly as a print book, but all the same: I had a great time reading all the essays and corresponding with authors and putting it all together into a logical form and writing an introduction, and it makes me really happy to see, finally, the result of all that work.

So toot, and again I say toot.

Hope that didn't hurt your ears.