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Your monograph on Lord Byron’s juvenilia has a new reader.

Your monograph on Lord Byron’s juvenilia has a new reader. Bad news: It’s a graduate student, and they are going to eviscerate it in chapter 2 of their dissertation.

Jim Fitzgerald read your article, “Ekphrastic Poetry in Regency-Era Britain.” View Jim’s profile.

Holy crap, Jim is now a full professor at Brown? You once saw him eat a loose M&M off the floor of the student union.

Your article on the suppression of free speech in the early nineteenth century cannot be uploaded to Academia.edu because the journal that published it operates behind a paywall and will not allow you to reprint it elsewhere for seven years, at which point you will no longer be an early-career scholar requiring citations in high-impact journals to include in your application for promotion to associate professor.

Your paper about Thomas Carlyle’s rhetorical strategies in Sartor Resartus was cited in the Journal of Applied Ichthyology. You are confused, but you’ll take the citation.

Someone from a renowned R1 just searched for you on Google. For $1.30/day, we can tell you who it is, or you can spend the next hour fantasizing about which search committee chair is vetting you for a tenure-track line.

Are you the “Steere” cited in over one thousand Biology papers?

Oh, sorry, never mind. That’s A. C. Steere, professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School. He’s written over three hundred scholarly articles on Lyme disease. Wow. That guy really made something of himself.

Someone from a prestigious R1 has scooped a conference paper you gave three years ago and published it in a flagship journal. You snooze, you lose!

Your paper on Percy Shelley’s Epipsychidion has been viewed by a well-known scholar who you’re pretty sure was “blind reviewer #2” when you submitted that paper, since their only comments were that you needed to include references to five articles authored by blind reviewer #2.

You would have saved 11,248 minutes with the Academia.edu summaries feature. With those 11,248 minutes, you could have revised that conference paper you gave three years ago into an article for a flagship journal before someone at a prestigious R1 scooped it.

Your article, “Ekphrastic Poetry in Regency-Era Britain,” has been viewed by the person who got your dream job at that East Coast university for which you made the shortlist. You had a pretty good interview there, actually, but then, when the department head took you out to lunch, you spilled soup on your shirt and had to give your teaching presentation to a room full of first-year students who just stared at the stain. Anyway, she’s wearing black in her faculty photo, and it looks like she’s thriving.

Your paper on Sartor Resartus has been viewed by an online conspiracy theorist, who has taken one sentence out of context and included it on their website devoted to Mothman sightings.

Your profile has been viewed by that guy who kept saying “This is more of a comment than a question, really…” during the Q and A after your conference presentation.

Oh my god, the head of your dissertation committee just viewed your monograph. I’m sure she doesn’t remember how you completely forgot Edmund Burke’s name during your dissertation defense. She probably has no idea you relive the moment in your dreams and sometimes wake up your partner screaming, “Edmund Burke!”

No one, but no one, has viewed your passion project article about Sir Walter Scott.

Your paper on Percy Shelley’s Epipsychidion has been cited in an article titled “Navigating the Complexities of a Vivid Tapestry: Delving into the Intricacies of Romanticism,” which was definitely written by AI.

Your paper on Percy Shelley’s Epipsychidion has also been cited in an article titled “‘Turns Out I’m 100 Percent That Bysshe’: Shelley’s Romantic Radicalism.” You hate cute titles like that but also wish you’d thought of it first.

Someone saw your monograph in an Academia search. Come on, don’t you want to know who? Pay us just $150/year to stroke your ego and fuel your anxiety about a topic so esoteric that literally no one else cares.