Category Archives: How to Get into Graduate School

Graduate School in a Downsizing Academy

The most important step that you can take when considering graduate school is to ask yourself, what is the job that graduate school will prepare me for?

If you are not focused on your post-graduate school goal, then your process of choosing graduate programs, applying to them, picking an advisor, deciding on a dissertation topic, and everything else, will likely be unfocused and relatively ineffective.  One unfortunate outcome for many of those who do not have a clear career goal in their graduate school plan is unemployment accompanied by debt.

The fact is, jobs for Ph.D.s have been evaporating for 40 years, and have now declined to crisis levels.  The reasons for this are the overall disinvestment in higher education in America.  Universities have less money to spend, and less of that reduced amount is spent on teaching per se.  Instead it goes to athletics, student services, and bloated administration.

The quantity of actual permanent tenure-line faculty plummets, as these professors are replaced by short-term contingent instructors known as adjuncts.  Currently the percentage of college instructors who are adjuncts is hovering at about 65%.  Yes, that’s right.  The majority of university faculty are now hired on a part-time basis, with no benefits or job security, and paid just a few thousand dollars a class.  Visit the website of the organization New Faculty Majority to learn more.

In this context, newly minted Ph.D.s struggle to find permanent work–the kinds of full-time faculty positions with benefits that currently account for only about 35% of university teaching positions.  There are vastly, vastly more Ph.D.s than there are jobs for them.

This is where your planning comes into play.  If you are hoping to obtain one of these scarce positions upon completion of your Ph.D., then your strategizing for that outcome must start in your very first year of graduate school.  Actually, the point of this blog post is to tell you that it should start before you enter graduate school.   In fact, you should not choose a graduate program unless it has an excellent and well-publicized record of placement for its Ph.D.s in permanent, tenure-track positions.  Don’t consider attending a graduate program that doesn’t.

In addition, the program must have abundant funding, and be prepared to offer you a multi-year funding package, so that your years of study in the Ph.D. do not leave you with substantial debt.

With a Ph.D. from such a program, you will be situated to be competitive for the few tenure-track jobs that are available when you finish, and you will embark on the next stage of your life without the burden of crushing debt.

This is not the typical path.  The typical Ph.D. student does not know to look for these attributes in Ph.D. programs to which she applies.  She enters the program, dedicates years to it, only to find out at the end that she has been given no meaningful preparation for actually obtaining a permanent, full-time, tenure-track position.   She may have required years of loans to survive.  Proudly submitting her dissertation, she discovers that her applications for tenure-track jobs are rejected one after another.   She finds herself spending semester after semester doing part-time adjunct teaching that doesn’t pay the bills, or allow her time to do the research and writing that are required for a tenure-track job-worthy record.  After some years, she is confronted with the painful choice whether or not to give up on her dreams of an academic career in order to right her financial ship.

I wish this story were the exception but it is not; it is currently the norm.

The way to avoid this outcome is to ensure, as I wrote above, that the doctoral program you enter is doing everything possible to train its graduate students in all of the skills necessary to obtain tenure-track positions.  These include grant-writing, publishing, conferences, and networking, as well as generally keeping a close eye on the state of the job market in the field and evolving hiring priorities, and assisting their Ph.D.s to follow them.

It is not easy to discern whether a graduate program has a commitment to this kind of professionalization training.  Clues to look for include a “placement” page on the website that is up to date, and shows the job placements of recent Ph.D.s.  Also look for workshops dedicated to grant-writing and the job market, and an active brown-bag or seminar schedule that brings top scholars to visit (this promotes networking).   Ask currently-enrolled graduate students whether they are encouraged (and funded) to attend national conferences, and whether the department offers an academic writing seminar and support for publication.  Finally, ask current graduate students and faculty about recent Ph.D.s–where are they now?  If they answer with some version of, “gosh….I don’t really know,” turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction.  Only consider attending a department that has a strong institutional culture of tracking its Ph.D.s and identifying with their success.

It goes without saying that the individual advisor you choose should be looked at in a similar vein.  How good is he at placing his Ph.D.s in tenure-track positions?  If you can’t get a clear answer on that, or if the answer is, “not very,” don’t consider that individual as an advisor.

In all things related to graduate school, remember—you are in the driver’s seat.  Protect yourself.  Departments and advisors may assist you, but your success ultimately rests in your hands alone.


“Is That Your Final Answer” Or, Why Students Ramble

Students tend to ramble.  And the further into their graduate studies they get, the more likely they are to do it.  The question that must be asked is: why?

I was working with a Ph.D. student last week on  interview responses for an upcoming fellowship interview, and for the first time, I understood the answer to this question.

Students ramble because you are afraid to stop talking. Because if you stop talking, then your answer is finished. And if your answer is finished, then you have to commit to it. And it has to sit there, and either be right, or wrong. One way or another, you sink or swim on that answer.

And nobody wants to do that. Nobody wants to be pinned down as having answered a question in one particular way, because what if that way is the wrong way? What if that isn’t what they “want to hear”? So, you say to yourself, somewhere—probably unconsciously– “if I just keep talking, maybe I’ll suss out what they really want to hear, and then I can say that! Because, whatever they want to hear, I’ll say! If I just knew what it was!”

(This is the close cousin to the related problem that students often jump in before the questioner has finished talking. Why? Because you want to look like you “already thought about that,” and “didn’t really need to be asked,” and “really, should and would have said it already if you’d had a chance, but in any case will definitely tell you everything you could possibly want to know about it right now.” Because you’re afraid to look stupid. And if for some reason you left something OUT of your answer, then you have failed to tell them what they “want to hear.” So the slightest peep from the interviewer has to be met with an avalanche of new talking, talking which will surely cover everything they could possibly “want to hear” on the subject.)

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Guess what? If you want to have a career in academia, you have to commit to your final answer. You actually have to speak in declarative sentences with a strong falling tone at the end that signals, aurally, the period.

You have to stop, and then wait. Wait while your interlocutor processes what you said, reflects on it, and then responds with thoughts of her own.

And guess what? She might disagree with you. Yeah, she might. And you still have to respond in declarative sentences.

Here’s how this looks, in a sample dialogue drawn from a typical interview scenario for a tenure-track position at a university:

Interviewer: What text would you use for the introductory course?

You: I would use Martindale.

Interviewer: Oh….? Why?

You: Because I think Martindale does the best job of bridging social and political economic viewpoints. He’s not the strongest on contemporary developments, of course, but that can be augmented with other readings. For the basic textbook, I think he gives the best and most thorough overview.

Interviewer: I used Martindale last year and I thought it was terrible. The students hated it. It was disappointing because I’d heard such good things about that textbook.

You: Really? That’s interesting. What happened, do you think? What did the students dislike?

Interviewer: They found his writing too hard to follow, and the format was confusing.

You: Interesting. When I’ve used that textbook students have given it positive feedback. But that may be because I make them study guides of each chapter, and walk them through the chapter the first day we cover it in class, alerting them to the parts to focus on for the lectures and exams.

Interviewer: Ohhhh, what a good idea! I’ll bet that would help. We should talk more! I’m ordering my books for the next term this week, and I’d like to talk with you more about the options.

You: Perhaps over dinner after my talk today? I’ll look forward to it.

OK, what happened here? What happened here is that the interviewee stuck to his guns. He had a position, he stated it clearly, and he defended it. He did not panic and fall down when the interviewer took an opposing viewpoint. And what happened as a result? He had a meaty, substantive exchange with the interviewer that resulted in him coming across as a credible, authoritative and effective teacher. It resulted in a deeply satisfying dialogue. It also ended with the interviewer wanting to know more.

And that, dear readers, is where you want your interviewers to be. You want them eager to know more, and ready to ask for it.

Now, here’s how that usually goes, for the ramblers among you:

Interviewer: What text would you use for the introductory course?

You: I would probably use Martindale, although, you know, there are a lot of good options out there and I’ve heard good things about Nelson, and Richardson, and you know of course, NO textbook really covers everything so you always have to augment, but I’m sure you already know that….!

Interviewer: Ok, ok!  So, anyway, why would you use Martindale?

You: Because I think Martindale is pretty good on social and political economic viewpoints, although, you know, a lot of people say that he’s not that great on contemporary developments, but that isn’t always the main thing, because sometimes I assign other readings for that, like the Patrick piece from the Annual Review, and this great article I found on current theory that was in this one reader out of Routledge, and even though sometimes those are too hard for undergraduates it’s pretty important that they get a sense of the field….so, um, yeah, what was the question?

Interviewer: I used Martindale last year and I thought it was terrible. The students hated it. It was disappointing because I’d heard such good things about that textbook.

You: Oh, wow, really? Oh gosh, I never even thought of that. I wonder if my students thought that? You know, a few of them DID say to me that it was kind of hard to follow and I noticed that their quiz scores were really low in the beginning, so I was trying to figure out what to do, and I thought of maybe making study guides that would help them, so I made some and it seemed to help, but you know, it’s hard to say, and I should really look at some other textbooks, like maybe Nelson, which is what my advisor used when he taught that class and I was his TA, so yeah, I hope maybe I can ask you what has worked for you because you know I’d definitely do whatever was expected for the way the department teaches that class……. you know?

Interviewer: Ummmm, ok. So moving on to the next question….

Here’s what happened in this case. In this case, in the candidate’s abject eagerness to “please” the interviewer and say whatever it is that he thinks she “wants to hear,” he ended up doing several things:

  • overwhelming his interviewer in several panicked, inarticulate monologues.
  • squelching all opportunity for collegial dialogue.
  • undermining his own authority and credibility as a teacher.
  • reinforcing an outdated subordinate identity as a graduate student TA.
  • burying the effective teaching method that he devised to deal with the text, which was creating chapter study guides.
  • boring and alienating the interviewer, who drops the subject and irritatedly moves on to another question.

In short, the panicked, rambly effort to just keep talking until some kind of magic “right answer” will present itself…… that effort is precisely the behavior that bombs the interview and disqualifies the candidate as an effective teacher, a confident professional, and most of all, an appealing colleague.

The fact is, there are not that many “right answers” in an academic setting. Sure, there are sometimes strong ideological orthodoxies that some departments adhere to, and it’s important to keep all of your antennae alert to those. But you can discover many of those by thorough research ahead of time.

The fact is, there are fewer orthodoxies per se, then there are opinions. Because academics specialize in having opinions. And in order for you to make an impression as a credible academic, you too must have opinions, strong opinions, that you’re prepared to state clearly, and defend.

That doesn’t mean being a jerk. The best speaker and scholar is the one who is open-minded and pleasant. But not one who is a doormat, and who is so afraid of offending someone that he literally won’t stop talking because his“final answer” might be wrong.

No, ramblers, that has to stop. Ask yourself, “is this my final answer?” And be ready to say, “yes.”

[This post is adapted from one originally published at Karen Kelsky’s other blog, The Professor Is In.  The opinions expressed on that other blog are those of Karen Kelsky personally and do not necessarily reflect the position of the University of Oregon McNair Scholars program.]


What Should Grad School Types Do Over the Summer?

Summer is upon us. Long, lazy days at the pool, barbeques, beers, suntans…. Um, no, not if you’re a graduate student or planning to be one. No, for you, young gra-(duate student)-sshopper, summer is for work.

Not for you.

What kind of work, you ask? That’s a good question. And there are several possible answers. Here are some, in no particular order:

Plan 1: Enroll in summer classes and get some credits out of the way.
Plan 2: Enroll in summer research/independent study credits and work on an independent research/writing project.
Plan 3: Work to save money for graduate school.
Plan 4: Get into an internship or summer research program off campus that provides hands-on training in a related field.

All of these are excellent options, and everyone will have a different set of personal circumstances (budget, family obligations, etc.) that will influence their choices.

But overall, Plan 1 may be relatively short term thinking, in terms of preparation for getting into and out of the best graduate school programs with the best funding package. To achieve that, you need to stand out with independent research experience and ideally, a published paper to your name. Plans 2 and 4 are your best bet to achieve that.

Similarly, Plan 3 is a commendable and responsible choice, and it is never wrong to save money. But by the same token, if you focus your energies on Plans 2 or 4, it MAY transpire that your graduate school years are completely funded by generous fellowships, leading ultimately to an excellent full-time job.

When I advise students, one of the primary points I try to drive home is that you should always EXPECT and AIM FOR and do everything possible to PREPARE FOR an abundantly-funded graduate school experience.

In other words, do NOT start out expecting and planning to painstakingly scrape through graduate school with a punishing cycle of part time work and loans.

This initial mindset may play a large role in which of the four summer plans above that you choose. While a summer job can definitely help you put a little money away, that money will not go far in covering graduate school expenses. A summer internship or research project, while possibly costing more up front, may well make you competitive for a top-tier funding package at your ideal graduate program.

None of these outcomes is guaranteed of course! There is always risk in every choice. But with careful advising, especially consulting with potential advisors and directors of graduate study at the programs you most want to enter, you can gather the information to make the best informed choice.


How is Graduate School Different from Undergraduate?

Undergraduate students considering graduate school are often confused about what exactly graduate school IS.

That is understandable. Graduate school is kind of mysterious, and if you haven’t had family and friends who have gone through it, it’s very difficult to discern from the outside what makes it different from undergraduate study.

In a nutshell, graduate school is advanced schooling that allows you to *specialize* in a particular field. Where undergraduate study is generally meant to be broad, graduate school is narrower and deeper. The Masters degree is somewhat specialized, and the Ph.D. degree is highly specialized.

In practice, in terms of what you actually DO once you enter a graduate program, the primary difference is where the main initiative for learning rests.

In undergraduate study, initiative substantially rests with the professor, department, and university.

The professor conceptualizes, creates and teaches the course. The department creates the major. The university sets the distribution requirements.

The student fulfills these pre-determined expectations, and gets credit toward a degree. While the student definitely brings dedication and hard work, the work is mainly fulfilling expectations set by others.

In graduate school, by contrast, the initiave for learning rests with the student above all. You are the engine of progress, and responsibility for conceptualizing goals, charting a course to meet those goals, and staying on track toward those goals, rests squarely on your shoulders.

Professors *advise* but they rarely direct your study.

Coursework itself plays a diminishing role after the first year, and more and more you’re expected to do independent research that you conceptualize and execute on your own.

Even in your classes, the interpretations, evaluations, questions, debates are initiated by the students. The onus is on you to:

read in depth
develop a critical analysis of the reading
SPEAK UP
ask questions
develop scholarly opinions
learn to support your own positions.

And on a larger career scale, in terms of what job you get after finishing, the onus is on you to observe trends in the field, to find and pursue conference opportunities, educate themselves about hiring, and to get yourself to departmental events, particularly job talks.

The advisor’s role is typically more reactive than active.

Too many new graduate students don’t understand this difference and waste valuable years floundering around waiting for some professor to tell them what to do and how to do it.

Remember, once you’re in graduate school YOU are the master of your fate! Take the reins and run!


The Personalities of a Graduate Program


Ah, Departmental Politics. The downfall of many a hapless graduate student. So many personalities, so many treacherous waters. How to navigate them?



This is without question the best book (in combination with Getting What You Came For [Robert Peters, 1997]) available on succeeding in graduate school and leaving graduate school gainfully employed.


If I wrote a book on graduate school, it would be this book.


The only caveat I must mention is that it IS, as stated in the subtitle, geared to graduate students in the Humanities.  Those in the sciences and professional fields may find some parts not entirely applicable.  Nevertheless, as an overall guide to graduate school, this one is IT.


Today I want to introduce a section of the truly wonderful first chapter, The Culture of a Graduate Program.

This section, pages 34-36, introduces the “ubiquitous personalities” found in American university departments.
Every would-be graduate student should learn to identify these personality types and understand thoroughly which type your advisor is, which types your committee members are, and what the potential pitfalls of each can be.


The types are drawn directly from Semenza.  However, the discussion following each one is my own, based on my own experience as a student and a colleague in 4 different departments.


•The High Priests and Priestesses:  The commonly regarded “superstars” of the program.  Oftentimes the most productive, with the widest national and international reputation.  Highly respected for their productivity and leadership.  Oftentimes come with monumentally massive egos to match.  Usually make excellent advisors, as long as you can cope with the ego factor.


•Deadwood:  Tenured faculty who ceased making original scholarly contributions to their field (and similarly, ceased to stay up to date in teaching or active and responsive in service) at some point in their career.  They can’t be fired, and they are just marking time until retirement.  Never, under any circumstances, have one of these as an advisor.  You can immediately tell if someone is deadwood by doing an internet search and finding that they have published nothing, attended no conferences, and won no major grants or awards in the past decade.


•The Black Sheep: The faculty member in a department who feels, justifiably or not, isolated, marginalized, and persecuted intellectually and/or socially.  They often turn this marginalization into a badge of honor, and indulge in paranoia and delusions of grandeur.   They may legitimately work in an area of the discipline that runs counter to the rest of the department’s focus.  Or, they may just be paranoid.  In any case, they will often try to reach out and collar new graduate students and turn them into “loyalists.”  Most graduate students are flattered until they realize this is a dead end intellectually and politically in the program.  Beware of the Black Sheep as advisor.  There are far more potential risks than benefits in most cases.


•The Careerists:  Generally younger faculty members who are absolutely, single-mindedly, fixated on building their reputation, status, and political influence in their scholarly fields.   They will be focused intensively on getting the next grant, attending the next conference, organizing the next symposium, publishing the next article, and editing the next book.  Assistant Professors, still seeking tenure, should legitimately be careerist to some degree, as it is necessary to building the kind of high powered resume that guarantees tenure.  However, for many faculty, the habits of careerism that begin early in the career are hard to break, and in fact only intensify over time.  Careerist senior faculty may or may not make good advisors.  They can teach you priceless skills in networking, self promotion, and chutzpah.  However, given their propensity to be constantly jetting off to the latest conference in Singapore, Amsterdam, and/or South Africa, they can be very, very difficult to actually meet with.


•Service Slaves:  Almost 100% of the time women, Service Slaves are untenured or tenured faculty members who are unable to say no when the department creates the committees that keep it running—ie, search committees, curriculum committees, grievance committees, advisory committees, etc.   Sacrificing their own research productivity to departmental needs, they are the “perpetual associate professors” who stagnate in salary and status, with little to show for their selfless work in keeping the department functioning while other, far more selfish individuals, garner prizes, praise, and raises.   Service Slaves generally make warm, fuzzy advisors who might even bake you cookies for your birthday.  But they fall short of the ideal advisor, being negative role models for scholarly productivity, self-promotion, and clear personal boundaries.


•The Curmudgeons:  Every department has at least one senior greybeard, nearly always male, who stumps about complaining about the downfall of the field, the discipline, the department, the university, the world at large, and who generally sets himself up to resent and resist every curricular and administrative change that comes under discussion.  Curmudgeons can be secretly sweet and good natured, or openly hostile and antagonistic.  Either way, you must never have a curmudgeon as an advisor.  They can serve as an informal mentor or committee member as long as counterweighted by younger, more forward thinking committee members.   But as primary advisors, they are a mistake.  They’re primary contributions lie in the past, and they are backward looking.  You need someone focused on the future, and who thoroughly understands the brutal, heartbreaking conditions of the contemporary job market.  Do not, under any circumstances, be seduced by corduroy elbow patches, grey hair, and warm welcomes!!!!   You need someone as your advisor who is in the very prime of their career.


To be continued……



How Do You Write an Email or Letter to a Professor?

One of the most common points of confusion among undergraduates and new graduate students is how to contact professors to serve as potential faculty advisors.  This can be a minefield.   I have been on the receiving end of many emails from hapless students who clearly had no guidance, and whose communication with me ended up appearing flippant and rude.

Here is that sort of email:

“Dear Professor Kelsky, I am a student at XXX College and I’m thinking about graduate school/doing research on xxx and I’m getting in touch to ask if you can give me any advice or direction about that. Sincerely, student X”

This is an instant-delete email.

Here is what an email to a professor should look like:

“Dear Professor XXX,

I am a student at XXX College with a major in xxx.  I am a junior and will be graduating next May.  I have a 4.0 GPA and experience in our college’s summer program in xxx.

I am planning to attend graduate school in xxx, with a focus on xxx.  In one of my classes, “xxx,” which was taught by Professor XXX, I had the chance to read your article, “xxxx.”  I really enjoyed it, and it gave me many ideas for my future research.  I have been exploring graduate programs where I can work on this topic.

I hope you don’t mind my getting in touch, but I’d like to inquire whether you are currently accepting graduate students.  And if you are, if you’d be willing to talk to me a bit more, by email or on the phone, or in person if I can arrange a campus visit, about my graduate school plans.  I have explored your department’s graduate school website in detail, and it seems like an excellent fit for me because of its emphasis on xx and xx,  but I still have a few specific questions about xx and xxx that I’d like to talk to you about.

I know you’re very busy so I appreciate any time you can give me.  Thanks very much,

Sincerely,

XX XXX

Why is this email good?  Because it shows that you are serious and well qualified.  It shows that you have done thorough research and utilized all the freely available information on the website.  It shows that you have specific plans which have yielded specific questions.  It shows that you are familiar with the professor’s work.  It shows that you respect the professor’s time.

All of these attributes will make your email and your name stand out, and exponentially increase your chances of getting a timely, thorough, and friendly response, and potentially building the kind of relationship that leads to a strong mentoring relationship.

If the professor doesn’t respond in a week or so, send a follow up email gently reminding them of your initial email, and asking again for their response.  If they ignore you again, best to probably give up.  But professors are busy and distracted, and it may take a little extra effort to get through.

Good luck!


How to Ask a Professor for a Letter of Recommendation

In previous posts I discussed point number one of graduate school recommendation letters:

NEVER ASK A TA TO WRITE ONE OF YOUR LETTERS!

To review the point of those posts:  Your letters should come from tenure-line faculty.  That means, someone whose title is either a) Assistant Professor, b) Associate Professor, or c) Professor.  Any additional words attached to those titles, such as “Adjunct,” “Visiting,” “Research,” etc. should almost always remove them from your list of letter writers.  The reason?  Graduate programs want to see the recommendations of experts who have completed the full arc of an academic career, from graduate school through permanent professional employment.  Those who have not generally have less experience on which to base their judgment of student potential.

Of course in a pinch, a Visiting, or Adjunct faculty can serve, and may well write you a wonderful letter.  Just be aware they are not in the very top tier of letter writer status, and try to limit such writers to one slot out of three.

In this post, I want to give you a script for asking for that letter of recommendation.

Preliminary Step one:  Do well in the professor’s class.  Visit her/his office hours.  Make sure she/he knows you as an individual.

Preliminary Step two:  Let the professor know in advance that you have graduate school plans and aspirations.  Make the professor part of your “team” of supporters.  Get her/him invested in your success.

Step one:  When the application stage comes schedule an appointment with the professor at least one month, and preferably two months, before the first deadline.

Step two:  Bring with you a copy of any work you did for the professor, as long as it is good.  A term paper that got an A grade is ideal.  Be prepared to remind the professor which class you were in, which term, and any distinguishing features of your performance in the class

Step three:  Explain in concise and well organized terms your concrete plans for graduate school applications, including the schools to which you want to apply, which programs and why, and your ideas for thesis/dissertation topics.  Do not ramble.  Do not digress.  Do not self-deprecate.

Step four:  Ask the professor if she/he would be willing to write a letter for you.

Step five:  If she/he expresses any reservation of any kind, politely thank her/him for her/his time, and leave.  Find another letter writer.  NEVER try to persuade someone to write for you.

Step six:  If she/he responds enthusiastically, lay out the general timeline, ask for advice on how to proceed and strengthen your application, and for any suggestions as to good programs and funding sources.

Step seven:  After leaving, follow up with an email.  The email should:

a)  thank the professor for their willingness to write for you

b) include a copy of your personal essay/statement of purpose

c) include an excel spreadsheet that clearly lists, for each of the 5 or more programs to which you are applying (and yes, you should apply to at least 5):

c1. The program

c2. The deadline

c3. The contact person

c4. The means of submitting the letter

Special Note:  You do NOT need to provide stamped envelopes for your letter writers!  It is a professor’s job to write these letters and the university pays all postage for letters of recommendation.

Step eight:  Repeat the above with two other faculty members, for a total of three letter writers.  If possible, make sure your letter writers come from relevant fields.  IE, if you are applying to do a Ph.D. in Japan anthropology, have at least one letter from an Anthropology faculty, and one from a Japan studies faculty.

However, it is also OK to change fields!  If you wish to go to graduate school in a new field that you did not study in your undergraduate days, that is FINE.  Then just ask your letter writers to focus on your general aptitude and potential for advanced work.

Step nine: enthusiastically accept comments and criticisms of your essay/statement of purpose from your letter writers if they have any.  Be willing to revise your essay.  Take your ego out of it and be grateful for constructive criticism.  You may submit a new essay all the way up to the application deadline.

Step ten:  Let your letter writers know the outcomes.  And thank them again.

Do all this and your letter writers will stay excited and invested in your success.   And their letters will reflect that.