Research, Writing, and Creative Process in Open and Distance Education: Tales from the Field | Open Book Publishers

Posted August 20, 2023, updated onAugust 20, 2023 by Jon Dron

Research, Writing, and Creative Process in Open and Distance Education: Tales from the Field is a great new book about how researchers in the field of open, online, and distance education go about writing and/or their advice to newcomers in the field. More than that, it is about the process of writing in general, containing stories, recommendations, methods, tricks, and principles that pretty much anyone who writes, from students to experienced authors, would find useful and interesting. It is published as an open book (with a very open CC-BY-NC licence) that is free to read or download as well as to purchase in paper form.

OK, full disclosure, I am a bit biased. I have a chapter in it, and many of the rest are by friends and aquaintances. The editor and author of one of the chapters is Dianne Conrad, the foreword is by Terry Anderson, and the list of authors includes some of the most luminous, widely cited names in the field, with a wealth of experience and many thousands of publications between them. The full list includes David Starr-Glass, Pamela Ryan, Junhong Xiao, Jennifer Roberts, Aras Bozkurt, Catherine Cronin, Randy Garrison, Tony Bates, Mark Nichols, Marguerite Koole (with Michael Cottrell, Janet Okoko & Kristine Dreaver-Charles), and Paul Prinsloo.

Apart from being a really good idea that fills a really important gap in the market, what I love most about the book is the diversity of the chapters. There’s everything from practical advice on how to structure an effective paper, to meandering reflective streams of consciousness that read like poetry, to academic discussions of identity and culture. It contains a lot of great stories that present a rich variety of approaches and processes, offering far from uniform suggestions about how best to write or why it is worth doing in the first place. Though the contributors are all researchers in the field of open and distance learning, nearly all of us started out on very different career paths, so we come at it with a wide range of disciplinary, epistemological and stylistic frameworks. Dianne has done a great job of weaving all of these different perspectives together into a coherent tapestry, not just a simple collection of essays.

The diversity is also a direct result of the instructions Dianne sent with the original proposal, which provides a pretty good description of the general approach and content that you will find in the book:

I am asking colleagues, as researchers, scholars, teachers, and writers in our field (ODL), to reflect on and write about your research/writing process, including topics such as:

* Your background and training as a scholar

* Your scholarly interests

* Why you research/write

* How you research/write

* What philosophies guide your work?

* Conflicts? Barriers?

* Mentors, opportunities

* Reflections, insights, sorrows

* Advice, takeaways

* Anything else you feel is relevant

The “personal stuff,” as listed above, should serve as jump-off points to scholarly issues; that is, this isn’t intended to be a memoir or even a full-on reflective. Use the opportunity to reflect on your own work as a lead-in/up to the scholarly issues you want to address/promote/explore.

The aim of the book is to inform hesitant scholars, new scholars, and fledgling/nervous writers of our time-tested processes; and to spread awareness of the behind-the-curtain work involved in publishing and “being heard.”

My own chapter (Chapter 3, On being written) starts with rather a lot of sailing metaphors that tack around the ways that writing participates in my cognition and connects us, moves back to the land with a slight clunk and some geeky practical advice about my approach to notetaking and the roles of the tools that I use for the purpose, thence saunters on to the value of academic blogging and how I feel about it, and finally to a conclusion that frames the rest in something akin to a broader theory of complexity and cognition. All of it draws heavily from themes and theories explored in my recently published (also open) book, How Education Works: Teaching, Technology, and Technique. For all the stretched metaphors, meandering sidetracks, and clunky continuity I’m quite pleased with how it came out.

Most of the other chapters are better structured and organized, and most have more direct advice on the process (from start to finish), but they all tell rich, personal, and enlightening stories that are fascinating to read, especially if you know the people writing them or are familiar with their work. However, while the context, framing, and some of the advice is specific to the field of open and distance learning, the vast majority of lessons and advice are about academic writing in general. Whatever field you identify with, if you ever have to write anything then there’s probably something in it for you.

Originally posted at: https://landing.athabascau.ca/bookmarks/view/19868519/research-writing-and-creative-process-in-open-and-distance-education-tales-from-the-field-open-book-publishers

Look what just arrived on my doorstep! #howeducationworks from @au_press is now available in print and e-book formats

Posted June 29, 2023, updated onJune 29, 2023 by Jon Dron

Hard copies and e-book versions of How Education Works are now available, and they are starting to turn up in bookstores. The recommended retail price is CAD$40 but Amazon is selling the Kindle version for a bit less.

Here are a few outlets that are selling it (or order it from your local independent bookstore!):

AU Press (CA)

Barnes & Noble (US)

Blackwells (UK)

Amazon (CA)

Amazon (JP)

University of Chicago Press (US)

Indigo (CA)

Booktopia (AU)

For those wanting to try before they buy or who cannot afford/do not want the paper or e-book versions, you can read it for free online, or download a PDF of the whole book.

The publishers see this as mainly targeted at professional teachers and educational researchers, but those are far from the only audiences I had in mind as I was writing it. Apart from anything else, one of the central claims of the book is that literally everyone is a teacher. But it’s as much a book about the nature of technology as it is about education, and as much about the nature of knowledge as it is about how that knowledge is acquired. If you’re interested in how we come to know stuff, how technologies work, or how to think about what makes us (individually and collectively) smart, there’s something in the book for you. It’s a work of philosophy as much as it is a book of practical advice, and it’s about a way of thinking and being at least as much as it is about the formal practice of education. That said, it certainly does contain some ideas and recommendations that do have practical value for educators and educational researchers. There’s just more to it than that.

I cannot begin to express how pleased I am that, after more than 10 years of intermittent work, I finally have the finished article in my hands. I hope you get a chance to read it, in whatever format works for you! I’ll end this post with a quote, that happens to be the final paragraph of the book…

“If this book has helped you, however slightly, to think about what you know and how you have come to know it a little differently, then it has been a successful learning technology. In fact, even if you hold to all of your previous beliefs and this book has challenged you to defend them, then it has worked just fine too. Even if you disagreed with or misunderstood everything that I said, and even if you disliked the way that I presented it, it might still have been an effective learning technology, even though the learning that I hoped for did not come about. But I am not the one who matters the most here. This is layer upon layer of technology, and in some sense, for some technology, it has done what that technology should do. The book has conveyed words that, even if not understood as I intended them to be, even if not accepted, even if rabidly disagreed with, have done something for your learning. You are a different person now from the person you were when you started reading this book because everything that we do changes us. I do not know how it has changed you, but your mind is not the same as it was before, and ultimately the collectives in which you participate will not be the same either. The technology of print production, a spoken word, a pattern of pixels on a screen, or dots on a braille reader has, I hope, enabled you, at least on occasion, to think, criticize, acknowledge, recognize, synthesize, and react in ways that might have some value in consolidating or extending or even changing what you already know. As a result of bits and bytes flowing over an ether from my fingertips to whatever this page might be to you, knowledge (however obscure or counter to my intentions) has been created in the world, and learning has happened. For all the complexities and issues that emerge from that simple fact, one thing is absolutely certain: this is good.”

A decade of unwriting: the life history of "How Education Works"

Posted June 24, 2023, updated onOctober 14, 2023 by Jon Dron

About 10 years ago I submitted the first draft of a book called “How Learning Technologies Work” to AU Press. The title was a nod to David Byrne’s wonderful book, “How Music Works” which is about much more than just music, just as mine was about much more than learning technologies.

Pulling together ideas I had been thinking about for a few years, the book had taken me only a few months to write, mostly at the tail end of my sabbatical. I was quite pleased with it. The internal reviewers were positive too, though they suggested a number of sensible revisions, including clarifying some confusing arguments and a bit of restructuring. Also, in the interests of marketing, they recommended a change to the title because, though accurately describing the book’s contents, I was not using “learning technologies” in its mainstream sense at all (for me, poetry, pedagogies, and prayer are as much technologies as pots, potentiometers and practices), so it would appeal to only a small subset of its intended audience. They were also a bit concerned that it would be hard to find an audience for it even if it had a better title because it was at least as much a book about the nature of technology as it was a book about learning, so it would fall between two possible markets, potentially appealing to neither.

A few months later, I had written a new revision that addressed most of the reviewers’ recommendations and concerns, though it still lacked a good title. I could have submitted it then. However, in the process of disentangling those confusing arguments, I had realized that the soft/hard technology distinction on which much of the book rested was far less well-defined than I had imagined, and that some of the conclusions that I had drawn from it were just plain wrong. The more I thought about it, the less happy I felt.

And so began the first of a series of substantial rewrites. However, my teaching load was very high, and I had lots of other stuff to do, so progress was slow. I was still rewriting it when I unwisely became Chair of my department in 2016, which almost brought the whole project to a halt for another 3 years. Despite that, by the time my tenure as Chair ended, the book had grown to around double its original (not insubstantial) length, and the theory was starting to look coherent, though I had yet to make the final leap that made sense of it all.

By 2019, as I started another sabbatical, I had decided to split the book into two. I put the stuff that seemed useful for practitioners into a new book, “Education: an owner’s manual”, leaving the explanatory and predictive theory in its own book, now grandiosely titled “How Education Works”, and worked on both simultaneously. Each grew to a few hundred pages.

Neither worked particularly well. It was really difficult to keep the theory out of the practical book, and the theoretical work was horribly dry without the stories and examples to make sense of it. The theory, though, at last made sense, albeit that I struggled (and failed) to give it a catchy name. The solution was infuriatingly obvious. In all my talks on the subject my catchphrase from the start had been “’tain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it, that’s what gets results” (it’s the epigraph for the book), so it was always implicit that softness and hardness are not characteristics of all technologies, as such, nor even of their assemblies, but of the ways that we participate in their orchestration. Essentially, what matters is technique: the roles we play as parts of the orchestration or orchestrators of it. That’s where the magic happens.

But now I had two mediocre books that were going nowhere. Fearing I was about to wind up with two unfinished and/or unsellable books, about half way through my sabbatical I brutally slashed over half the chapters from both, pasted the remains together, and spent much of the time I had left filling in the cracks in the resulting bricolage.

I finally submitted “How Education Works: Teaching, Technology, and Technique” in the closing hours of 2020, accompanied by a new proposal because, though it shared a theme and a few words with the original, it was a very different book.

Along the way I had written over a million words, only around a tenth of which made it into what I sent to AU Press. I had spent the vast majority of my authoring time unwriting rather than writing the book and, with each word I wrote or unwrote, the book had written me, as much as I had written it. The book is as much a part of my cognition as a product of it.

And now, at last, it can be part of yours.

30 months after it was submitted – I won’t go into the reasons apart from to say it has been very frustrating – the book is finally available as a free PDF download or to read on the Web. If all goes to plan, the paper and e-book versions should arrive June 27th, 2023, and can be pre-ordered now.

It is still a book about technology at least as much as it is about education (very broadly defined), albeit that it is now firmly situated in the latter. It has to be both because among the central points I’m making are that we are part-technology and technology is part-us, that cognition is (in part) technology and technology is (in part) cognition, and that education is a fundamentally technological and thus fundamentally human activity. It’s all one complex, hugely distributed, recursive intertwingularity in which we and our technological creations are all co-participants in the cognition and learning of ourselves and one another.

During the 30 months AU Press has had the book I have noticed a thousand different ways the book could be improved, and I don’t love all of the edits made to it along the way (by me and others), but I reckon it does what I want it to do, and 10 years is long enough.

It’s time to start another.

A few places you can buy the book