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Making the Inevitable Decision

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By Erin Keay

For most people, having a decision to make at the end of a job search is a welcome event. In my case, the thought of having to make such a decision filled me with dread. Ever since I sent off my two applications -- one for a ghostwriting job with a nonprofit educational research company and one for a postdoctoral position with an esteemed scientist ("Dr. X") -- I had been half hoping that one of these prospective employers would turn me down.

I do not consider myself an indecisive person -- not one of those people who struggle just to pick out what they will wear each day. However, I find myself so reluctant to make this decision it is a wonder that I have not resorted to self-sabotage. The thought has occurred to me more than once that something as simple as grossly misspelling Dr. X's name could undermine my candidacy and save me a whole lot of anxiety.

It is not that the postdoctoral position is undesirable. Working with Dr. X would be an immense honor and a big boost to my research career, an opportunity that I would be reluctant to pass up.

This is actually the problem. Part of me feels that I would be much better rewarded in a science-writing career and that my loyalty to academe is a mistake. However, acting on these feelings requires me to risk abandoning my academic career only to discover that scientific research really is what I most like and am best at. If it also means turning down the postdoctoral position of a lifetime, the stakes may just be too high.

In reality, I could not bring myself to deliberately undermine my postdoctoral success. However, at times I hoped that my letter would get lost in the mail or that Dr. X. would not respond at all.

None of these perverse fantasies materialized. Only a few days after I had sent off my letter of inquiry about the postdoctoral position I received e-mail from Dr. X requesting that I call her to discuss some possibilities. I was flabbergasted.

It took me several days to work up the courage to call her -- I was more than a bit intimidated. Fortunately, she answered on nearly the first ring so I did not have time to get even more nervous. The phone conversation was pretty brief. She said that she would like me to come up to see the lab, meet people, and talk about possible project ideas. She emphasized that the plan was to take things slow -- no promises or commitments yet.

The conversation held one surprise. I had been mistaken as to the exact location of Dr. X's laboratory. It was not at the main campus where I had thought but instead at the site where my husband works. Any academic understands when I say that this considerably enhanced the position's appeal. It is usually tricky to get a job in the same state as your spouse, let alone the same city, institution, and building.

The visit surprised me as well. Dr. X. was unexpectedly mild-mannered and exhibited an excellent rapport with her postdocs. As she described her research and philosophy, I realized that they meshed extremely well with my own. The projects she had in mind for me were not only intellectually appealing but would provide me with the opportunity to take a break from physiology and learn a variety of new experimental techniques in cellular and molecular biology.

I had prepared for the interview extensively -- boning up on Dr. X's research, formulating some intelligent questions, and also mentally answering anticipated inquiries about my own research. The preparation was worthwhile. At the same time, much as others had suggested -- most of my time was spent simply listening to other people talk.

During my tour of the lab, I was impressed by everyone's friendliness. I figured that visits like my own could not be rare, that there were probably tons of people trying to win a spot in this lab. Yet, everyone seemed earnestly interested in talking to me. Furthermore, they did not look the least bit harried to be pulled away from their research -- a good sign that they were not overworked or unhappy.

At the end of the visit, Dr. X laid out the situation. She had a position available and would consider me for it, once she received my reference letters. To my great pleasure, she indicated her intent to finance the position if possible. It is very easy for a principal investigator to say: Sure, you can come and work with me -- so long as you bring along your own money. However, an offer of a position and the money to go with it is rarer.

Overall, my visit added considerably to the position's appeal. Nevertheless, I was relieved when Dr. X said it would be about a month before she got back in touch. I wanted time to mull over these events before things escalated any further. I also needed time to think about the ghostwriting job I had applied for.

I was fairly shocked when another week after my interview Dr. X. contacted me and extended me an offer to join the lab. At first it failed to sink in, but once I shared the news with my family and adviser I started to get excited about the opportunity that I had available to me.

However, my reaction to the offer was not entirely positive. Although this position could be a watershed for my academic career, my interest in pursuing a writing career was still strong, and it saddened me to think that I might have to give up a chance at a writing job to take the postdoctoral position. At this point I was in limbo about the ghostwriting job.

The company's co-directors were preparing two books that would promote to educators, academics, and politicians their research into how to expand educational access for people with learning disabilities. They needed someone to help churn out the final draft. Since the theoretical basis for their research dovetailed somewhat with my neuroscience background, they seemed to think that I was well suited to the task. However, the last I had heard they were waiting to settle a deal with the publisher. Until they did, it would remain uncertain if, when, and for how long they would need me.

Dr. X had not asked for an immediate decision, but I did not feel that I could delay very long. In my mind, I had three options. I could accept the position, possibly missing out on an opportunity to venture off on a writing career, perhaps stall a little longer, or decline altogether and rely on the uncertain circumstance of getting the ghostwriting job. Like it or not, I had a decision to make.