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Demonstrating your ability to "contextualize your work within an existing critical conversation" is a bit of a hackneyed phrase, but it's the sort of thing you'll need to be able to demonstrate to prospective programs. In other words, close textual analysis is well and dandy, but it'd be wise to anchor it to the field in some way or another. That doesn't necessarily mean that you need to trot out an arbitrary series of big theory names per se, but if you're "solving a problem" (which is essentially what a thesis sets out to do, yes?) then you'll need some form of research methodology or apparatus to go about doing that.

I suspect that there may be some cultural differences and ill-formed perceptions informing the OPs assumptions. Simply put, h.s., you'll have a very difficult time finding any US school that forces you to approach your work from any angle that doesn't interest you such as "scientific/ feminist/ethnological approaches" while confining your interests in existentialism and religion. Grad lit programs allow for a great deal of autonomy, and very few restrictions aside from gaining certain overviews within the field. It's sounds like the apsa (?) convention was either an anomaly or your perception of what happened created this odd (and frankly, way out) assumption. I'd wager that 99.9% of US schools would provide the faculty and experience in some capacity for a student to work in either existentialism/religion or scientific/ feminist/ethnological (these are bizarre categorical clumpings, BTW)-- that choice would be yours. But I'm baffled as to how you're having difficulty locating professors that work with the authors you listed! Take a look at some secondary work on those writers/subjects and find out where their authors are located. If nothing else, that will open up the network of academics for you to research and discover who you'd be interested in working with as opposed to a particular school. It'd be wise to approach your search not from which school to attend, but what scholars you admire. But as harpyemma stated, if you think you're going to be able to work in this field without somehow addressing gender concerns, you should probably do a little more research about what a graduate degree in literature entails. No one would demand that you specialize in, say, feminist philosophy, but it's something you can't simply ignore. I mean, if you're into existentialist work, then how on earth are you going to be able to write about a thinker as important to that field as, say, Simone de Beauvoir without addressing gender? Good luck on your searches!

I ran into stuff like this last time, and I think, in many cases it's just damage control. They'll take what you have when you have it, but they don't want everybody's stuff coming in in bits and pieces all through January. With that said, I think one of last year's applicants ran into an issue with an application not getting processed due to something missing by the due date, so just be vigilant. In fact, although it'd make the process a little more challenging, I'd bump all of your application due dates forward by a couple of weeks to allow for "stuff." And speaking of "stuff," watch out for online application systems getting jammed during the final days of applying -- more reason to get your stuff in ahead of the rush. Several of the systems I was dealing with simply shut down under pressure. Try and get as much of the application completed WAY ahead of time so in the final days of polishing, it's just a matter of a few uploads and some mouse clicks.

Don't worry about it -- it's not worth the stress. Your application doesn't get thrown out if ETS makes a mistake or something. Worst case scenario, you deal with their ineptitude. And although I hope your experience is smoother than most, I'd expect to have deal with their ineptitude in some form or another. Just call them tomorrow and make sure you're clear on the process. Theoretically, you get four "free" score reports for the standard GRE which (I believe you request on the day of the test on the testing computer (it'll look up codes for you, so you shouldn't need to write the codes down)) and four "free" subject reports -- which are essentially a separate thing altogether -- that you have to request ahead of time via the GRE account you created. If memory serves correct, you do your score reporting literally before the test begins for the standard GRE, but for the subject, they need your list of four programs a few days (maybe weeks?) before you test. So if you're still up in the air about where to apply, have the GRE scores sent to your four top choices, the one's you know you'll apply to, and deal with the rest later.

You should give them a call to make sure what you need to do is crystal clear. They actually always answer the phone -- you don't have to navigate any hideous Kafka-eque automated systems or anything. When I signed up, the documentation told me one thing about how to do this, then the test itself told me something different. Then when I called to find out why the reporting never happened in the way I was told it would, they said neither one of the things they originally told me was true. So I'd call and get explicit instructions. Then I might call back and ask one more person just to make sure they're on the same page. I ended up having to fight them for some money, to which they caved because although they claimed to have record of my initial inquiry they, in fact, had no records of my initial inquiry. Good luck, as the ETS is nothing but a joy!

And so you should. You're in great shape!

Regarding sending a note of gratitude for a text, I have. I asked a few questions not covered, complimented the work, and it actually started a bit of an ongoing communication. I can only imagine that academics, who essentially write texts for a ridiculously small audience, would enjoy any and all feedback from readers who appreciated the work. With that said, a couple of things to possibly consider: Authors can be somewhat removed from the work, especially if it's been a few years since it came out. I've always been reminded of that whenever I enthusiastically blast off an email, taking about how important that work is to what I'm currently reading / writing about only to receive a response that makes it sound as if the text was written in another era by another person altogether. Doesn't mean much in this context, but my excitement is rarely matched. Also, you've got some different rhetorical occasions going on here: communication with an author who inspired you and communication with an author / professor that you potentially want something from. I guess there's no official way of going about it, but it seems that in the first occasion (essentially fan mail) you could go with anything from a few lines in an email to a sprawling, wax-sealed, hand-written letter -- and both would be equally appropriate. In the second occasion (fan mail with a motive), a more strategic and efficient approach would be needed: A brief introduction with your plans, a brief reason for your contacting them, and a couple of thoughtful questions / comments should do it. The trick, it seems, would be to get to the point as fast as possible with minimal fluff. With that said, I had a spectrum of responses when I did some communicating. One guy's only response was "I'm interested in your interests," whereas another wrote about 2000 words (this is actually who I ended up with -- the impression was strong). But at this point, you're not under any pressure to knock their socks off with your brilliance (that's later), so maybe be more of yourself? Crack a funny if needed; be more casual (but professional) in your questioning. Most of these people don't live stuffy, formal existences, so why bother with any of that? After seeing her speak at MLA last year, I sent Marjorie Garber an email about how much fun she seemed to be having at her talk. She responded, agreeing, saying that her panel had a blast and thanked me for picking up on that specifically.

The UC system out here on the west side appears to take a healthy smattering of both BA and MA applicants -- probably because they need as many MA level TAs as possible to teach incoming freshman comp. That might actually be a practical strategy, Timshel, to try and find out which of the good state schools have a huge amount of 1A, 1B, 1C sections, or are perhaps are working under some financial constraints that increases their need for adjuncts.

I heard the same thing from virtually every program I talked to last year. Undergrads simply don't have the same degree of exposure to the field that existing grad students have, which allows for a certain intellectual pardoning. MA-wielding applicants can define their projected research, methodologies, and target advisors in a far more salient way, and are expected to demonstrate the chops they've gained thus far in the coursework. Furthermore, the quantifiable metrics are weighed much, much higher: MA GPA is expected to be pristine and GRE scores are to be through the roof. (Three separate programs told me that an MA's more widespread reading and writing exposure upped the requirements from a standard BA's mid-600s subject score / high 600s or lower 700s verbal closer to that of a mid-750s subject with verbal scores in the vicinity of (gulp) an 800.) Lastly, an MA candidate is expected to have more along the lines of publishing, conference, and teaching experience than a lowly undergrad. I've definitely heard the argument that programs prefer to shape their PhD students from BA, but I doubt many of them would admit to such a tyrannical approach. Both situations seem plausible, but the setting of a considerably higher standards for the MA applicants to level the playing field would make sense as they certainly have the additional leg up in reading in the field, publishing etc. Everything else in the above paragraph came straight from the mouths of several top-tier horses.

Sounds fascinating. Although I don't know any specific articles, the Chronicle of Higher Ed. probably has some good stuff buried within its pages, and you might want to go after the Rhet/Comp and Writing Center crowd on JSTOR or in their own association rags. Good luck!

While I see both sides of the last few posts, and despite the pear shaped direction this thread is now heading, I'd be curious to hear what people think about theory written specifically to coincide with texts, such as Wordsworth's Preface or Barth's "Literature of Exhaustion"/Lost in the Funhouse (the latter of which contain some fairly abstract mind-bending stuff). It seems important to remember that while the post-structuralist stuff can get pretty masturbatory, it's not specifically designed for literature -- it just so happens that it can be applied that way. Perhaps those who dislike it could think about it as a necessary step toward subsequent (more practical) theoretical approaches? And are we talking about the same thing when we refer to "close reading" as the formalist approach of decontextualized sentence structure (tension, ambiguity between words/gaps etc.) or simply reading a text and providing a personal interpretation? Close reading, as I understand it (Wimsatt & Beardsley, Brooks etc.), is actually quite abstract and theoretical. But to swing back to the topic, a quote that I always like that answers the OP's question quite neatly: "Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed? Can the writer isolate and vivify all in experience that most deeply engages our intellects and our hearts? Can the writer renew our hope for literary forms? Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so that we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startlingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered? Why does death so catch us by surprise, and why love? We still and always want waking. We should amass half dressed in long lines like tribesmen and shake gourds at each other, to wake up; instead we watch television and miss the show." -- Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

If the underlying thesis is mindblowingly awesome and essentially diverts the focus beyond simply raising eyebrows, then the "controversial" stuff will be overlooked and secondary to the paper anyway. If it's simply a matter of this text is doing the same structural thing as this here porno text -- and not developing something beyond that comparison -- then it might come across as a edgy for the sake of being edgy. I mean it's hardly as if Paul Morel shows up at Miriam's doorstep and says "I'm here to fix the cable..." or is it? If the paper pushes more conservative buttons than it pushes existing studies of the text, then it might be problematic. Anais Nin is really not that obscure, and Sons and Lovers should be known by pretty much anybody who has ever studied Literature in any capacity. You'd be fine with either. I simply refused to open my writing with some cliched horseshit like "Grandma's dusty bookcase was filled with awe and wonder..." in fact, for a while, I was adverse to using any framing technique at all. It was in the final hour that it clicked and all fell into place. And I had the same take: that it's a risk, but it's one that I stand 100% behind. Screw convention.

I responded to this quickly, so if I missed something key or made some grammatical boo-boo, that's why. Don't judge. 1. Honestly, I don't think anybody could say for sure but it'd be interesting to hear arguments from either side. The only danger that I can think of in employing obscure stuff would be potentially showing off, or trying to create an impression that you work on obscure stuff / go beyond canonical work. I will say, however, that my writing sample focused on a lesser name in American modernism who was widely considered to be a poor writer, yet influenced many subsequent and important texts. The paper discussed the highs and lows of his technical skill, but focused primarily on the groundwork he set down for future writers. Additionally, the opening lines of my SOP referenced a contemporary avant-garde performance artist who is completely removed from my field, but who encompasses the aesthetic approach I'm interested in writing about. It was a bit of a risk, but in one of the first acceptances I received, the professor who contacted me said they'd never before heard a student drop that name -- and that it just so happened to be an artist that she herself had been writing about recently. So there's my experience with that! 2. It seems that it would depend on the controversy -- and without knowing more about your project, labeling a canonical text as pornographic (which I'm probably falsely assuming here to be low-brow titillation vs. say artistic / erotic aesthetics) might situate you as a close-minded prude; ("D.H. Lawrence is nothing more than a big old perv and we should ban all his books" or something). Of course I'm sure that it's not the case, but it wouldn't be explicit details that offend, it would be you willingness to write a text off (that perhaps many people view as high art) as trash that might cause problems. (I write about contemporary art, so I often find myself having to talk about body fluids and people pooping in boxes and things.) Again, without reading the paper, it's hard to tell. In general, it seems that controversial would be good unless you're like justifying contemporary racism or promoting Ayn Rand's batshit ideas or something. 3. I was told not to draw attention to any potential flaw unless it was especially egregious. Yours isn't, so I'd skip it. However, you can find ways to talk about such things in a more general manner that insinuates your increased focus and would then be reflected in your transcripts or whatnot. Using language, or even metaphorical / anecdotal images, that suggest an intellectual streamlining is far stronger than just saying "look, I got better, okay?"

As a friendly heads-up from someone who went through the process last year, December is not the end! I remember thinking that getting all the apps submitted would be the light at the end of the tunnel and that I could breathe more freely, but frankly, the waiting for responses became so emotionally exhausting that I'd rate it as more challenging than applying. You might think that Feb-April might be exciting -- and maybe for some it is -- but that wasn't my experience at all. Of course I don't say this to be a big big bummer or anything, but I haven't seen this really come up yet in discussion for any of you current applicants. The waiting process was much, much worse than I anticipated -- and I'm a very patient person. People on here were literally losing their shit all over the place. So good luck to you all over the next couple of months; and again, don't want to bum you out, but prepare yourselves for torment, frustration, and an emotional beating in the Spring.

I can't imagine that many programs exist that wouldn't allow such transdisciplinary work -- most that I've run into emphatically encourage it. You could probably slide into a niche within English, but it might depend on your angle of attack as to whether or not Media Studies would be a better home. If I were in the business of giving advice, I might suggest you seek out individuals doing the kind of work you're interested in rather than entire programs or institutions. Leo Braudy at USC, for example, springs to mind for Modernism and the early Hollywood stuff.

Unless things have changed since I took the tests last year, you can send your scores to four institutions with no additional charge for each test. However, sending any more from each test incurs its own fee. In other words, they aren't sent together for one price, so if you're applying to six programs, all of which require both scores, you'd send four of the standard and the subject for free and then pay for two additional standard and two additional subject scores to be sent.

I'd agree, but they also keep you in the game throughout the whole process too. Once you pass the initial chopping block, the committee will evaluate your entire package with those numbers in mind, and if your awesomeness is equal to that of another applicant whose scores beat yours, it's probably going to go to them. Also, be aware that it's the DGS who makes the final call at the end of the process and can reject an otherwise fantastic candidate based on cut-offs even though they were universally loved and enthusiastically recommended by the committee. There have been some horror stories on here about applicants who, around decision time, had been contacted by POIs and led to believe they were in, only to get rejected by the DGS at the final hour. So yes, the GRE / GPA will keep you from the initial rejects pile, but even if the rest of your stuff is awesome, a mediocre score might still get you axed midway through or at the last minute. But when all is said and done, it really is just a series of numbers. Obviously, submitting the highest scores possible is in your best interest, but don't let mediocre figures bum you out -- it's just not worth it. People do get into top-tier programs with average GRE / GPA scores. A great deal of this process is about luck and your ability to play the right notes for the right audience. Don't let something as lame as the GRE manifest itself into a form of resignation -- at the end of the day, it is what it is, and the results are pretty much out of your hands. If you're truly worried about your chances, just be sure to apply to a range of programs; but if there's one program (or one person in particular) who would be ideal -- even if their cut-offs are strict -- don't let that stop you from throwing everything you have at it. I genuinely sympathize with all who are dealing with this -- it's an awful process.

I totally feel the same way, but one thing I've found to combat this is to quit worrying about what other people are doing or not doing and just focus on what I, myself, should be doing. It's really none of my business how others do (or don't do) their work. Again, this is true. But once more, the best way to combat this is to make sure that your own diction is solid and stop worrying about other people's. Focus on their content, and if the writing is unclear due to structural problems, ask them to clarify what they are trying to convey -- it's often much clearer when spoken. If egregious structural errors are a serious problem, the professor will address them personally outside of class. Plus, there can be other reasons for such problems in a student's work that you're not privy to (such as learning difficulties etc). While students at the university level should know their function and use, some don't for a variety of reasons and it's important to remember that. Be careful as there may be several people in your classes thinking the exact same thing about you. Not everybody articulates or writes in the same manner or at the same level. In fact, one of the most important things to consider as a teacher is student diversity -- not just for recognizable characteristics, but the way that students learn and respond in very different ways. Like bdon19 stated on p.1, I hope this doesn't seem like an attack as I'm sure you're genuinely trying to be helpful (you wouldn't be here otherwise), but trying to be mindful that not everybody thinks / acts / writes in the way that you do allows you to be more open minded and effectual as a fellow student and, eventually, a teacher.

I’ve modeled much of my own pedagogy on my experiences as a student working with different professors, picking up tips that seemed effective along the way. One of the most pertinent points I picked up related to class discussion -- specifically participation grading. Whereas virtually all syllabi I've ever come across address the problem of not engaging in discussion, some have also addressed vocal monopolization and regularly taking the class hostage, noting that excessive commenting could in fact negatively affect your grade. Although I’ve found that most classes tend to have a higher contingent of the lethargic rather than engaged, I’m sure we’ve all experienced the student who simply adores the sound of his/her own voice and cannot help themselves from blessing everyone present with his/her opinions on everything, at any opportunity, every single week – relevant or not. As an instructor, I’ve found that not only do I have to conduct on-the-spot manipulations to goad the silent, but I also have to occasionally tame the domineering. And as a student, I've found that I often have to grind my teeth and just hope that the professor will politely quiet the more overbearing participants and repeat offenders. But as a student in seminars -- in which supportive, yet challenging participation and mutual progress are far more important than showing off -- simply maintaining an awareness of these pitfalls (and the need to strike a balance between them) has helped me immensely. Whereas I naturally err to the side of the super-engaged, I’m very cognizant that there are in fact other students present and that my voice isn't the only one in the room. And even if I have the tenacity to think that my ideas are brilliant, I can also recognize that they don’t need to be spouted at every single session. Instead, I've found it to be a good practice to focus my own comments on other people’s observations as a method by which to prompt them to delve further. Essentially, my participation now has less to do with seeking ways to make my own voice heard, and more to do with finding ways to amplify the voices and ideas of others or furthering the discussion's direction. By doing so, people seem to take a genuine interest in what ideas I might actually have to offer. Not to be all hippie-monkish or faux-zen or anything, but I do find the practice of self-restraint in these situations beneficial to keeping my (potentially volatile) academic ego in check. In addition, I’ve been fortunate to be a part of several workshop style seminars that have allowed me to focus on the most productive methods of in-class critique. And once more, they call for a very specific kind of self-restraint and diplomatic approach in which any criticism should be presented as further questions or devil’s advocate style goading. My goal, as a fellow student and colleague (whether or not deep down I think I’m somehow better than or less than those around me -- another balance that needs to be closely monitored) is to make my criticism so transparent that nobody would even recognize it as criticism. And as the OP has discovered (in what sounds like a very unfortunate way), roasting somebody or tearing apart their work in front of others does nothing but stoke one’s already engorged ego, and such destructive behavior simply has no use in a place of learning. These, however, are all things that I’ve learned over time through repeated trials and practice, and I'm sure that I'll be continually tweaking my "style." Interestingly, academics do tend to pull these kind of ego inflating stunts on one another (and sometimes their students) publicly trashing fellow academic's work in journals and whatnot -- often without mercy. But to a degree, their actions can be understood (yet not forgiven) in that many of them have never set foot outside of their academic bubble and haven't experienced much in the way of 'normal' human interactions that one might find say in an office or communal environment where egos play a lesser role. (Trust me, I've been on committees; I've seen it firsthand.) Furthermore, I've also witnessed a professor (and a very famous author who shall remain nameless) literally tear up a student's work in front of the whole class. Now the only thing productive about this sort of behavior is that the author may have been able to feel momentarily superior, albeit at the expense of the student who undoubtedly won't be forgetting that particularly dark moment anytime soon. In other words, diplomatic and thoughtful approaches to critiquing anything in a place of learning is one of the key components, not just of being a good, effective teacher -- but also a good, effective fellow student. Again, and to lift the OP’s term, I personally lean toward the 'aggressively' engaged side; but I’ve found that an attenuation of that approach is so much more productive for everyone involved, and it allows me a further level of empathetic insight that I probably wouldn’t have access to were I to remain under the illusion that every single one of my supposedly brilliant thoughts should be broadcast to all. Showing some humility in the classroom is a big big deal for me and speaks volumes about a person, but I've found it's something that I have to practice and keep continuously working at. Hoping this doesn't sound all preachy or domineering, as that would undermine my whole approach. But just as I try to practice in the classroom, I've been watching these responses and holding off from throwing my $0.02 out there until I got a satisfactory idea of where the conversation was headed. For better or for worse, I find myself tightly wound regarding this topic.

I was fortunate that I got offers and I went with a program that I think had the overall best fit (and were the most genuine in their desire to take me on). That example was just one program that I found out about after the fact. Had I been in better communication with them, I might have been able to discern that modernists were in fact blacklisted for that year, and either wait until next year or move on. Don't let a rusty GPA or average GREs get you down, though; they're literally just a series of numbers and say very little about you as a candidate. Admission committees know this and are more interested in reading your actual work than a numerical representation of you. Go at this process with the enthusiasm that you're a kick-ass candidate and that any of these programs will be fortunate to have you. Don't let something as lame as the subject test hold you back from trying. If you happen to have a blip on your otherwise awesome package, it's just not worth stressing about -- even the top scoring applicants will have a smear somewhere or other. Focus on presenting your work in the best way you can and you'll have just a good a shot as everyone else. Aside from that, it's out of your hands!

As an addendum to illustrate just how much good fortune and the luck of 'fit' plays into this process (as well as making contact with programs way in advance), post-season I contacted a program that rejected me just to get feedback on my application (as I sincerely thought the 'fit' was perfect, and was a little disheartened by such a swift rejection). The response was troubling: In short, I was told that my package was solid, my writing was very good and universally liked etc., but that the program simply wasn't accepting anybody in my field that year (modernism) because they already had too many students working in that area. Had I known in advance that my application would have been pointless, I could have saved myself an application fee.

It might be wise to contact some of the DGAs at these programs just to get a feel for their GPA cutoffs as 3.7 ish seems to be the average minimum. If some programs won't even consider your application because of the UG GPA, it'd save you some money to find that out now rather than after you apply. As far as your MA GPA, it's a bit different as 4.0 (or close) is pretty much expected. Not to belabor this as it came up in another thread, but even programs that don't demand the subject test still, in most cases, do accept and take into consideration subject test scores. (Columbia would be the exception as they literally won't allow you to submit the score.) But the problem is that you're going to be up against candidates applying for the same positions who will be submitting subject test scores, regardless of whether or not they are a requirement. The test sucks ass, but limiting programs that you can apply to -- in addition to potentially setting yourself at a disadvantage against other candidates -- might not be the wisest move. If your package is rad and they totally love you, yet they have an applicant who is equally rad but submitted subject scores (as an added push), chances are the offer goes to them -- the funding certainly will.

In order to score well on the GRE analytical writing and please the software that grades the essay, you need to devolve your writing proficiency to about an 8th grade level. A five paragraph, formulaic essay with the most mundane, lifeless sentence structure possible will get you a top-notch score. So on one hand, grad programs will be receiving samples of your highest quality critical writing that's been polished and prepared to perfection over an extended period -- as well as statements that are thoughtful, wise, and paint a vivid portrait of your capacity as a writer. On the other hand, they'll have a formulaic piece of shit from the GRE. Unless you're submitting a score of 2 or something, I wouldn't worry. As far as your UG GPA goes, most applications ask you for your major GPA (or an accumulation of your junior and senior years). Also, how are your subject test scores? Although that's generally lower on the list of requirements, a lower score might send you to the reject pile much faster than a strong one. That aside, all the figures you listed, while maybe not competitive, seem perfectly reasonable. Besides, stats and figures are not what gets you an offer, it's all about fit with a smidgeon of luck.

Some light e-stalking should get you the info you need re: potential advising. For basic details about the program, the prof in question, and their availability, it's probably best to go through them directly (just don't ask anything clearly stated on the website). If you want to find out what working with a particular person might be like, then yes, grad students would be the best option -- although I wouldn't expect much dirt. Of course use tact when contacting these people; don't write "Dear Dr. Octopus, will you advise me? x bdon19" and similarly, don't like ask a grad student to rate Dr. O's douchiness on a scale of 1 to 10 or something. Strike up a conversation about the program, shared interests, and then maybe ask the target prof how the advising process is handled. I found most students and profs I contacted to be quite forthcoming about the program, but it wasn't until campus visits that I got to hear some of the negatives. Also, keep in mind that many of the superstar academics don't really advise and / or are unavailable for advising due to their arena-rock style engagements. And watch out for those who are close to retiring (or death) as well. I had stuff on my CV that wasn't that pertinent to my major -- similar stuff to what you are considering. This seems common for the undergrad to grad shift, so unless it has no connection whatsoever, I'd put it on. I did read somewhere (I'm not sure where, but it was in a grad-prep book) that grad programs don't really expect undergrads to have much of a CV, so if it's filled with fluff, it's going to scream "desperate." That same text also suggested that once grad school begins, the CV should get wiped of anything remotely peripheral and should only document academic qualifications pertinent to your field. If you can get honors without doing the thesis, that will save you a lot of trouble (I was under crazy pressure while writing mine). As long as the capstone has a research / thesis component that you can talk about in your applications; the only thing you'll be sacrificing is the ability to say "While conducting research for my honors thesis, I discovered that . . ." in your SOP. I played it up in my applications, but a thesis and an honors thesis aren't that different -- as long as you've done one or the other.

It's commonly acknowledged that that's how the hierarchy works; virtually everyone I've conferred with in academia has told me the same thing, and I believe it to be true. But it's also important to remember that the humanities as we know them are in flux. Our mentor's experiences in grad school and within the profession are quite different to ours. Even younger professors who finished their PhDs five years ago were playing a very different hand to what we're now working with. While it has become considerably more difficult to get into programs and to find work, one thing we know for sure is that the changes will continue to roll in -- both good and bad. Staying afloat and learning how to navigate these changes will be our key. Bypass the hierarchy and be the wildcard; do something that sets you apart from the rest.