Last week, I walked across the stage of Yale University’s Woolsey Hall to accept my master’s degree in Archaeological Studies. I completed the coursework for the degree decades ago, but during the year I took my classes Mrs. Kuhl became pregnant and our oldest son was born days after I handed in my last final exam.
The only thing left for me to earn the degree was to write and submit my master’s thesis. The plan was that I would write the thesis while taking care of our baby, then we would find childcare and I would go back to work full-time. Yet what was intended to be a six-month temporary measure stretched into a 20-year career as a stay-at-home dad, freelance writer, and author.
Finally, last fall, I approached Yale about the possibility of returning to finish the degree. I was astounded at how receptive they were. “It’s not a big deal,” said Dr. Richard Burger, the head of the Council on Archaeological Studies, about writing the master’s thesis. When I expressed some unease about completing it by the March deadline, he simply said, “You’re a writer, aren’t you? You have a leg up on everybody else.”
This set off a mad scramble to write and submit my master’s thesis before the end of March. Having never written a thesis before, I searched the internet for tips and advice, particularly for anthropology and archaeology theses. I was both disappointed and surprised. Different colleges have different expectations; for example, a number require theses two or three times longer than what Yale asked for. My googling discovered only a single testimony about the thesis-writing process, and the writer’s biggest takeaway was to add all images and photos to the document last. Good advice, although I wished for counsel that was a little more substantial.
Here then are some of my conclusions about writing a master’s thesis. They aren’t so much advice as they are experiences that I hope others can learn from. Take from them what you will.
While cleaning an old bone he found, an avocational fossil hunter made