So, I’m officially a published author now. I heard a few weeks ago that the manuscript I’d been working on (for, like, a year…) was accepted to Neurotoxicology, a bi-monthly journal published by Elsevier, but I didn’t want to post anything here until it was up on Pubmed. I should be receiving proofs sometime this week so I can look at the final version of the document (i.e. what it’ll look like when it’s actually in the journal), so maybe I’ll put up a picture of that, too!
Either way, I decided to search for “Linsenbardt” in Pubmed today and see if I was there. And I am.
That’s kinda neat! 🙂
Unless you have access through your university, you can’t actually read the paper yet. Elsevier is pretty annoying about such things, making you pay for access otherwise, but because NIH funds were used to pay for the work done in the paper, it’ll have to be made available, free, to the public sometime eventually.
I’m starting my second paper now (as in, as we speak…), and my PLAN is to get that submitted by October somewhere. But, as some of you know, that last paper took me FOREVER to actually get out and submitted. October is when the annual Society for Neuroscience meeting is, however, and it’d be nice to tell prospective employers that I have one paper published and another one on the way. Also, for the purposes of graduating, getting two first-author papers is a good thing (as in, typically, if your name is first on the list, then you either did most of the work, or wrote the whole paper yourself…not always the case, but usually it goes something like that…so “first-author” is pretty important).
This hill was to the side of Ma and Papa’s house in Louisiana, Missouri. Well, actually, I’m quite sure it’s still there, but it doesn’t seem as big as it did to us back in 1990 when the picture above was taken, but anyway…. We spent hours on this hill riding (while sitting) skateboards down and avoiding cars. There was also a hill next to Papa’s service station that served the same purpose, but had a nice grassy area at the bottom to stop us. One of my favorite memories of Papa is of him riding down the hill next to the station on his wheely thing for working under cars, then falling off and Ma getting out the Bandaids to patch his skinned knees.
