Academia is an interesting place. It's filled with "grown-ups" who spend significant amounts of time chasing their own mental squirrels. On the very best days, academic psychologists generate compelling new research ideas and with a righteous surge of idealism about that work's importance, they figure out a way to answer their own scientific questions.

Weeks and months pass.

Disappointments are faced.

Hopes are dashed.

Then, one day, there's a manuscript. On another day, if said academic is lucky (well, if their work is important enough and well-done enough because who wants to believe that publication has anything to do with luck?), there's an email back with pages of changes before that manuscript can be accepted. Then, said academic and collaborators spend more hours painstakingly responding to those well-meant comments (i.e. gut-twisting criticisms that often elicit a healthy burst of indignation). Finally, on a beautiful, sun-shiny, butterfly-filled day, that manuscript is accepted and is published at a vaguely later date.

Said academic and colleagues rejoice!

Months pass.

New research begins.

Wine is consumed.

Three other researchers read said academic's article and one cites it in their own work.

Our idealistic academic does not change the world with innovative research because hardly anyone reads it.

This, dear readers, is my reason for writing this blog. For effect, I have perhaps dramatized the situation. Some great research does make it into the rapt eyes and brains of the general public. Sometimes that research is well-communicated. Other times, however, media and pop-psych articles get the story wrong. My goal is to become a trusted source who can provide you with digestible summaries of important research, while also telling you about why that research matters.  

Stay tuned and let the learning begin.

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AuthorTara Giller