I have hinted at it on and off on here, even though at work it is like a secret lover nobody must know about. I am doing a PhD. In fact, I often like to say I am finishing a PhD. I am finishing it because there is so little left to do that six weeks straight with no book nor knitting nor horsey distractions would see me cruising through the submission deadline. This deadline is no actual problem at present; it is so far ahead in time that I will probably end up finishing the book and the PhD before the day dawns. But carrying around your PhD all the time, often with envelopes ready to fly off to agents full of hope and hopefully not full of crap, see this
does not equal finishing it. I think I have been finishing this PhD for a year now. Maybe more. There is nothing I envy more than full-time study. If only I were not tossed around more pressing commitments, including those that appear like exit doors from my job into the one I really crave, I'd say that this PhD would have been out of the way two years ago. I'll tell you what, once it is out of the way, and once the book is also, I will write another book, this one: A Part-Time PhD Really Only Takes 18 Months. I am even exaggerating on that one. It probably only takes 12 months straight.