novELTy 7/3 focused on "teachers doing research" and covered such topics as a research methodology for investigating reading protocols (Elekes, 2000), the effects of listening instruction on listening skill (Petric, 2000) and test taking strategies (Bukta, 2000). By way of contrast, in this paper I try to draw a sharp distinction between the different motivations of theoretical research and practical teaching. I argue that it will not usually be realistic for teachers to turn themselves into researchers, and instead suggest that teachers may broaden their repertoires by reporting on their innovative practice and by engaging in and writing about what I call "research driven teaching". In particular, I try to show practical ways in which these developments may be undertaken, and illustrate my arguments with modest examples from my own experience. 

Meet the Smiths

Andy Smith is a second language acquisition researcher whose interest is in the extent to which universal grammar remains available to adult second language learners. His papers regularly appear in leading international journals. He has no interest in classroom teaching and has never heard of Headway (John and Liz Soars, Oxford University Press). 

Mandy Smith teaches English for Academic Purposes (EAP) and treats her classrooms as opportunities for testing hypotheses about second language learning. She regularly publishes in refereed journals. 

Randy Smith has taught in several different institutions and is well known in ELT circles. He regularly writes up descriptions of the teaching techniques that he has pioneered for professional journals. 

Sandy Smith is an effective teacher who knows that career enhancement also depends on publications and research but is not very happy at the prospect of becoming a writer/researcher herself, to some degree because she doubts the relevance of research to classroom teaching. She has never seen an edition of Studies in Second Language Acquisition. 

Andy, Mandy, Randy and Sandy were four of the people who contributed especially vociferously to a Saturday-evening-in-the-bar discussion at the IATEFL Teacher Trainer SIG Symposium held in Leeds from 10-12 November 2000. Of course, I have changed their names and polarised their positions a little bit, but I guess you can recognise the types. I was sitting outside the discussion circle trying against the odds to enjoy a quiet drink on my own, but unfortunately I could not escape being drawn into the discussion. One of the co-editors of novELTy was also present at the Saturday-evening-in-the-bar discussion, and she later asked me to write this article about language teachers and research. 

As I begin to write this article, I am imagining a reader rather like Sandy. (But even if I have got it wrong and you are not like Sandy at all, do please read on.) In the article, I will try and make some suggestions to help Sandy turn herself into at least Randy, and possibly even Mandy. 

Why Sandy is suspicious about what Andy does

In my opinion, most of the suspicions language teachers voice about research are really criticisms of the empirical methods that most theoretical researchers adopt. Consider Sandy's position. She works in a classroom where continuity of learning is very important. She tries to see language learning as a holistic process in which her students simultaneously learn about form and function, and simultaneously develop listening, speaking, reading and writing skills. 

One day Andy arrives in her classroom and asks permission to collect data from her learners to help him test a hypothesis about the effectiveness of grammar instruction. But as he explains what he wants to do, Sandy quickly sees that for him the classroom is really a laboratory in which he will conduct an experiment very far removed from her holistic approach. First, he will ask her learners to make metalinguistic judgements about discrete linguistic items. Then his research assistant will attempt some very traditional grammar teaching. Finally, he will again ask her learners to make metalinguistic judgements about the same set of discrete linguistic items as they had already been tested on. 

As he explains what he wants to do, she realises that the teacher's idea of teaching grammar and the researcher's notion of grammar instruction are not the same thing at all. Not only does she call it "teaching" while he calls it "instruction", but when he talks to his research assistant, his interests seem to be in "the acquisition of syntax in an instructed context". She is interested in how to teach, in what her students learn and in how to integrate each lesson into a continuous programme, so that what is learnt today forms the basis of her work tomorrow; he is interested only in the before-and-after test results (which he calls "pre- and post-tests") and in attempting to eliminate every other "variable". Seeing what she takes to be a travesty of teaching, Sandy naturally enough takes against research. 

However, this is because she is judging what Andy does from her own perspective as a teacher. What she does not know is that Andy is testing the hypothesis that her learners, if taught only an object relative structure, such as the article which I'm reading, will infer that a subject relative structure which they have yet to be taught, such as the article which interests me, is also grammatical. He is interested in the association of two variables only, priming informants with object relatives and the informants' subsequent ability to make grammaticality judgements about subject relatives. Viewing what Andy is trying to do from this perspective immediately helps us to understand that it would be useful to know whether teaching a more complicated structure first is in fact more economical than teaching a simpler structure first, especially when this seems counter-intuitive to an experienced teacher like Sandy. 

Understanding the importance to the researcher of eliminating all but two carefully controlled variables so as to determine the degree of association between them also helps us to see why language teachers and theoretical second language acquisition researchers inhabit different worlds. And perhaps it suggests that the way ahead for Sandy is to aim to transform herself, not into an Andy, but rather into a Randy or a Mandy. How to do this will be the focus of the fourth and fifth sections of this paper, which will follow a brief review in the next section of the possibility of teachers and researchers working as collaborators, as discussed by Rod Ellis. 

Ellis as matchmaker

These are the opening words of the article summarising his Plenary address which Rod Ellis contributed to the IATEFL 1998 Manchester Conference Selections: "The purpose of this article is to show how second language acquisition (SLA) research can inform language pedagogy and also how language pedagogy can contribute to SLA" (1998, p. 10). Ellis suggests that there are three possible teacher / researcher relationships. 

In the first, the researcher "gathers knowledge about how L2 learners learn which can then be used to inform teachers about how they should teach" (Ellis, 1998, p. 10). This is more or less Andy's stance when he enters Sandy's classroom. In my view, this is a perfectly legitimate position for a theoretical researcher to adopt, although few researchers would want to articulate it so directly. However, it could hardly be thought of as collaborative and is much too `Andy' for us. 

The second possibility Ellis considers is that the teacher might "act as an informant contributing experience and accumulated knowledge of how learners learn to add to the researcher's understanding of SLA" (1998, p. 10). In order for this knowledge to be taken account of, researchers need to design instruments such as interviews and teacher diaries in which it will be revealed. This is really another way of saying that teachers will become informants - not at all the role of a Randy or a Mandy, as we shall see. 

The third possibility is that teachers will become researchers operating on the inside. They may do this in a number of ways: either as collaborators, but essentially under the guidance of the researcher in what Ellis, following Clarke (1994) terms "a very inequitable relationship" (p. 14); or in a more participatory way, in which both researcher and teacher learn the skills of the other and operate together as equals in the classroom. Given the nature of the positions from which Andy and Sandy set out - remember Andy has never heard of Headway or Interchange and Sandy has never seen an edition of Studies in Second Language Acquisition, it is hardly surprising that this suggestion turns out to be a non-starter in the real world. This leaves only action research as a viable teacher-as-researcher option. However, as Ellis points out, many teachers find it difficult to articulate research questions with sufficient precision. He therefore concludes that frequently the most valuable outcome of action research is that it stimulates reflection on the teacher's current practice. 

How, then, are we to read Ellis's attempt to find a research role for teachers? Not, in my opinion, as a very encouraging one. In fact, in his conclusion, Ellis reminds us that, "The gap between SLA and language pedagogy is a very real one. Researchers and teachers inhabit different social worlds and they practise different discourses" (1998, p. 16). It is for this reason that I conclude this section, as I concluded the last section, with the suggestion that Sandy is better advised to abandon any notion of becoming like Andy or even of working alongside him. Rather, she should take the more natural step of modelling herself, first of all, on Randy. 

Writing up innovative teaching

Randy Smith ... regularly writes up descriptions of the teaching techniques that he has pioneered for professional journals.

I was recently asked to write a few hundred words for a language school newspaper to which both teachers and learners were to contribute. The title I chose for my contribution was Ideas I was too lazy to develop. The article was very easy to write - all I had to do was list some of the ideas I keep on my computer in a directory called, prosaically enough, `Ideas'. You are probably just like me: you keep lists of ideas on disk, or in your filing cabinet, or maybe even in your head. And, like me, you are probably too lazy to write up all the brilliant new things you do, and which could be of real use to colleagues in the profession. In fact, I taught for years before thinking of writing up any of the ideas I had developed and only began professional writing when a colleague and I were prompted to share our ideas by a publisher who had got to hear of what we were doing. 

How to get started as a professional writer then? The sensible thing is to aim at an audience you know well. The editors and readers of IATEFL SIG newsletters or even of professional journals like novELTy are often sympathetic audiences for carefully thought through descriptions of classroom experiments, especially if they have a transfer value - by which I mean that they can be taken up, sometimes in adapted form, by readers. 

Let me give an example of what I mean. In January 1995 while I was working in a university in Hong Kong, I was allocated a class of first-year Textiles and Clothing students to whom I was to teach academic writing. I looked at the brief designed for me by my Course Leader, and I looked at some of the writing projects done by previous groups on the course I was now to teach, and to be honest I was not very enthusiastic about either. I just could not see how the students had learnt anything useful from their previous writing tasks, which had resulted in little more than copying out paragraphs from textiles articles in trade journals and passing them off as their own. 

So what I decided to do was to ask the students to write commentaries on their writing. In a wide right-hand margin, side-by-side with their writing projects, they had to write about their own writing - how they had selected their topics and developed them, how they had taken their readership into account, how they had used sources (do not laugh!), how they had organised their arguments, how they had written the first paragraph, how they had struggled to find the English they needed to convey their meaning exactly, how they had revised and edited their work. And to help them with this, each weekly writing class involved an awareness raising activity which focused on some part of the writing process, such as using sources or developing a sense of readership. 

It was only after the writing projects were handed in that I realised what a brilliant course this had been! But of course, I was still thinking like Sandy - as a teacher. 

A month later I was having lunch at an IATEFL conference with the ESP SIG Newsletter editor. She was talking about the kinds of article she was looking for. And all of a sudden I realised that I should write up my brilliant Textiles and Clothing writing course for her Newsletter. And when I put the suggestion to her, she was enthusiastic. 

So how did I go about it? First, I had to list all the things that would go into the article in the order in which I would discuss them. My list looked like this: 
 

•  introductory paragraph: what the article is about
•  the context: what I had to teach, how much time I had to do it in, the brief my Course Leader had designed for me
•  interpreting the brief: how I reconciled my idea with the original brief
•  course planning: the contents of the course I designed, together with a description of the first lesson
•  how it turned out: how the course was taught, together with a description of the last lesson
•  responding to student writing: how I assessed the writing projects the students submitted
• evaluation of my experiment: the strengths and weaknesses of the course I had designed and taught.

Finally, I decided to include the first page of one of the student projects (with the permission of the group of students who had written it, of course) so as to make how my innovative teaching had worked as clear as possible. 

A couple of months later, Writing about Writing, as I called my short article, duly appeared in the IATEFL ESP SIG Newsletter. Regrettably, it was not selected as one of the best of the SIG articles and so did not appear in the SIG Selections, but then you cannot win them all, can you? However, this brief description of how I wrote up a teaching experiment does show how easy it is to be a Randy. And once you have done this sort of thing two or three times, you will probably develop the ambition to be a Mandy. 

In fact, being a Mandy can be even easier than you might suppose. Sometimes, you can set out to write something as a Randy and find you have virtually become a Mandy by accident. Indeed, I was so excited by my Textiles and Clothing experiment that the following October, a colleague and I planned an EAP writing course for Biomedical Science students entirely around the theme of writing about writing. 

We were working with part-time mature students in their first semester at the university. Their days were spent as laboratory analysts and their evenings studying for a biomedical science degree. We were responsible for the EAP writing element of their communication skills module, and so we decided that our contribution to the course would result in a student produced booklet on how to be an effective academic writer. Our idea was that this booklet would act as a reference manual during the remaining five semesters of their course. 

I say that we operated more like Mandy than Randy, partly because we set out, in a very informal way, to test the hypothesis that reflecting on the writing classes they had experienced would enable our students to draw lasting conclusions about writing, conclusions which they would be able to write up themselves in the form of a manual, a genre with which they were already familiar in their professional lives. And in fact, my colleague and I were so pleased with the result that we too decided to write our work up, in our case in the form of an article for an international journal, a genre with which we too were familiar in our professional lives. This meant that our article had a more academic structure (and was a good deal longer) than my ESP SIG Newsletter article. 

By a more academic structure, I mean that it first surveyed the literature on the teaching of academic writing. Our survey concluded by noting Bloor's (1995) comment on the difficulties of making objective comparisons between different approaches to the teaching of academic writing because of the poor quality of the existing descriptions of these approaches. We took this as a cue for showing how a relatively objective judgement might be made about one of these approaches, the one which would underpin our teaching, and which would be meticulously described in our article. There then followed sections on our subjects (the Biomedical Science students), the methodology of our experiment (how we designed the course so as to test what our subjects had learnt about writing), how it was implemented (how our teaching was conducted and what occurred), what the results were (how our students' writing enabled us to evaluate what they had learnt) and what conclusions we drew and what recommendations we would make for future studies (which parts of our teaching worked well and which parts produced inconclusive or even unsatisfactory outcomes). 

You can readily see from the way the previous paragraph is set out that I have taken what I remember as a series of classroom lessons resulting in an extensive piece of student writing (those parts of the previous paragraph that appear in parentheses) and described them to you in "the different discourse" of research (those parts of the previous paragraph that appear in italics). In other words, my experience is that of a Sandy while my presentation of it is that of a Mandy. And indeed, the report of this `experiment' was duly published in Asian Journal of Language Teaching, a refereed international journal. 

Research-driven teaching - framing hypotheses that can be tested in the classroom context

Mandy Smith teaches English for Academic Purposes and treats her classrooms as opportunities for testing hypotheses about second language learning.

Why would a Randy, or a Sandy come to that, want to try their hand at being a Mandy? Of course, our profession is full of Randys who have no intention of becoming Mandys - indeed many of the world's best known ELT professionals are confirmed Randys. But there are two reasons I can think of for becoming a Mandy, if you have the opportunity. 

One is purely utilitarian and only affects those who work, or hope to work, in academic higher education where research output is an important performance indicator and increasingly determines not only whether we will get a job in the first place, but also whether we will be promoted once in post. Useful as it may be in the professional field, Sandy’s teaching skill and Randy’s professional writing is not research and counts for little in the academic world - although as I suggested in the latter part of the previous section, it can sometimes be converted to research and reach a readership that is both academic and professional. Mandy’s work, however, is research-driven from the outset and will help her academic career even though she is not a pure or theoretical researcher. 

A second, and perhaps more relevant, reason for most of us to become Mandys is that we feel our teaching may be stronger for setting out with a hypothesis concerning our learners’ progress that we want to test in the classroom itself. 

Whereas my innovative Textiles and Clothing writing course was motivated by my professional judgement that what my Course Leader wanted me to do was unlikely to work all that well, an EAP Skills course I taught three years earlier was specifically designed to yield research findings of interest in themselves and of direct relevance to the course design work for which I was responsible. 

The EAP Skills course was designed not only to teach skills, but simultaneously to enable us to investigate the extent to which EAP learners were able to identify the skills their tutor thought he was teaching. This is an especially important area to research because EAP courses are frequently metacognitive in focus, that is to say, the students who follow them are not merely learning academic English but, arguably more importantly, they are learning how to learn academic English. 

Unlike regular course design, this research-driven teaching requires very careful consideration of the methodology that enables us to collect reliable data from our learners. With this in mind, it was agreed that as I was to be the teacher, one of my colleagues would take responsibility for collecting post-lesson questionnaire and interview data from my students and post-lesson interview data from me, and for transcribing the interview data. Another colleague would be responsible for manipulating the raw statistics revealed in the questionnaire data and interpreting the qualitative interview data, whilst all the time both my colleagues would ensure that the findings revealed by these means were kept from me (since I was an informant) until my teaching was completed. 

The quantitative and qualitative data we collected enabled us to compare the extent to which different students and their tutor ranked the emphasis placed on aspects of the four skills and on specific academic study skills in particular classes. The data also revealed the extent to which the tutor's underlying aims for the lessons were identified by the students. In addition, our study revealed many other interesting things, including the different agendas that the tutor and the students brought to the classroom, the extent to which implicit expectations varied amongst students, particularly as a result of their previous learning histories, and the extent to which metacognitive explanation was effective. The study also confirmed the difficulty of obtaining in-course feedback from learners and of responding appropriately to it. 

Especially interestingly, we discovered several additional things that we had not set out to investigate at all. For example, we found that students had great difficulty correctly recalling the sequence of activities in a lesson even when interviewed immediately after the class concerned, that they were frequently unable correctly to name the other students they had worked with in small groups in the class that had just ended, and that surprisingly often they provided information in questionnaires completed immediately after the class which was contradicted by the information they provided in interviews recorded immediately after they had completed the questionnaires. These facts caused us to consider more carefully the way in which new information is internalised by learners and to wonder about the extent to which explicit metacognitive instruction might help or hinder the natural process of knowledge assimilation. 

As you can see from this (very inadequate) description of our small scale research project, our interest was not only in successful teaching, but in trying to find out just what effect our style of teaching had on our learners through a prompted self-report methodology. What we are able to report as a result of this research project is not the kind of innovative teaching which a Randy would report, but information about the ways in which the agendas of teachers and learners vary and, indirectly, about the knowledge assimilation process. Indeed, our modest piece of research points towards the need for much more carefully constructed research into the processes we have begun to reveal. 

I hope you agree that we have managed to retain Sandy's interest in effective teaching whilst at the same adding Mandy's interest in investigating the learning processes with the ultimate aim of revealing new knowledge. 

Why, you might reasonably ask, am I not, therefore, suggesting that Mandy should now take the further step of transforming herself into Andy? 

Gass' six stage model of the second language acquisition process

In order to answer the question posed at the end of the previous section, it may be helpful to consider the second language acquisition process in a little more detail than heretofore. We all know that it starts with what Andy would call "second language input" and what Sandy would call "listening to a foreign language", and ends with what Andy would call "second language output" and Sandy would call "speaking a foreign language". But what is the process which makes input recognizable to the learner and enables it to be transformed into output? Although this is not a question to which we know the answer in anything other than the sketchiest of terms, one model which seems fairly plausible and has attracted a good deal of support is Gass's (1988) input to output model. 

According to Gass, the second language learner needs first to be exposed to ambient speech, from which apperceived input may be extracted. Apperception, or `noticing' as it has frequently been called, is defined by Gass as "the process of understanding by which newly observed qualities of an object are related to past experiences" (p. 199) and may include frequency, affect, prior knowledge, and attention. Apperception is a priming device for comprehension, which may be at the semantic or syntactic level, and comprehension is a prerequisite for intake, defined by Gass as "a process of mental activity which mediates between input and grammars" (1988, p. 206). Intake is in turn a prerequisite for integration, which enables "the development per se of one's second language grammar" (p. 207), and is itself a prerequisite for output. 

Let us assume that this six-stage model of the acquisition process is more or less right. So we have ambient speech --> apperception --> input --> intake --> integration --> output. 

We can immediately see that Andy's interest is predominantly in the integration of new knowledge into a second language grammar, i.e. in speculating as to what happens out of sight (but not out of mind), in the so-called `black box' between our ears. This interest is what caused him to hypothesize that exposure to a more complex structure might cause a learner to infer the existence of a less complex one. 

We can equally immediately see that Sandy's interest as a teacher is in the visible parts of the acquisition spectrum, in ambient speech, and particularly in apperception and comprehension, processes which teaching materials are supposedly designed to aid. She is also interested in output, but not in the invisible integration process that leads to it. 

Once the essential difference between Andy's and Sandy's interests are revealed in this way, we can see why Ellis' consideration of the possibilities of collaborative research involving pure researchers and teachers working alongside one another is not very encouraging, and why it was suggested earlier that Sandy would be better advised to become a writing professional like Randy or a research-driven teacher like Mandy. Unless, of course, Sandy has the motivation (and the time and money) to learn the tricks of Andy's trade, which typically involves completing a PhD in theoretical second language acquisition. 

Creating a research environment

As well as taking the kinds of individual professional writing and research-driven teaching initiatives suggested in sections 4 and 5, it is very often helpful for teachers to work in teams to create the kind of environment which stimulates writing and research. Below I list some of the focuses typically found in research active departments. You may already have some of these where you work, but if you do not, the list may help you to set up the kind of institutional infrastructure that helps to promote research and professional writing. 

• A research committee. Such committees work best when they have (small amounts of) money to distribute. This means that everything from research project proposals to applications for support to attend conferences have to be made to the committee, which is then responsible for evaluating them carefully and for identifying priority areas in the department or school, the last of which in particular helps to promote a team-building culture.
• Display cabinets, where current publications by members of staff can be displayed.
• A bulletin board containing information about upcoming conferences, visiting speakers, research projects in progress, conference presentations by members of staff, staff publications, etc.
• A research information booklet containing information about research in progress and research recently completed in the department or school, about the availability of funding both within the institution and outside (including any application forms required), a list of important dates in the year ahead, etc.
• Training or technical sessions, at which either research techniques such as sampling, data collection, transcription, data analysis (including statistical analysis) or new professional materials are demonstrated.
• Support for conferences hosted by the institution. Big departments sometimes have a policy of annual or biennial conferences. These bring considerable prestige to an institution and help to make its members' research active.
• Conference preparation. If a major national or international conference is upcoming and calls for papers have gone out or contributors to theme sessions are being sought, it is often very useful for members of a department or school to work together to make sure that strong abstracts or coherent proposals to co-ordinate theme sessions are submitted. With this sort of co-operation, you are much more likely to get papers accepted. And getting papers accepted is not only rewarding for individuals concerned but helps to keep your institution in the public eye.
• Working papers. Working papers are collections of papers in advanced draft form which can still benefit from further work and which a Department puts together itself. Often institutions exchange working papers, so producing your own series may enable you to exchange with as many as two hundred other institutions worldwide. One cautionary note - whilst in some fields, theoretical second language acquisition, for example, working papers are virtually de rigueur, in others, including ELT, they are quite rare and can cause less informed journal editors to hesitate about publishing on the grounds that the article has already appeared elsewhere, even if only in embryonic form in a collection of working papers.
• Work in progress sessions. These can be a very useful way of bringing colleagues together. Try to draw up a regular schedule. It works well if three or four colleagues agree to read someone's article in progress, say over a weekend, and then provide comments / feedback in a small group meeting the following week. It is always useful to have this sort of internal peer feedback and advice before sending work to a journal and it greatly increases your chance of getting your work published. In addition, the more you know about your colleagues' work, the more able you will be to function effectively as a unit and present a coherent picture to the outside world.
• Visiting speakers who discuss their work in progress are perhaps the commonest way of keeping up to date with new work and of encouraging research or professional writing within a department. Virtually all institutions have such programmes, and if you are looking for a place to start building a research infrastructure, this is probably the first thing to institute.
• Reading groups are also an excellent way of keeping up to date with what is new. They also help to reduce the labour of reading widely, something few of us have sufficient time to do. Either each member of the group reads something different and offers a concise summary of what they have read or, and this is especially useful for more difficult work, all the members of the group agree to read the same article and then meet to make sure they have understood it and can come to a common view.

As well as these events, being part of a well resourced institution also makes a huge difference. Unfortunately, we cannot all work in institutions with large numbers of active researchers, research assistants and research students. In fact, many of us do not even have the advantage of good libraries with a ready supply of journals, and some of us do not even have access to adequate computer facilities. Not having these things is not an excuse for not being an active writer or researcher, but it may be an explanation! So it is worth making sure that the management of the institution you work in realises the importance for your development of a resource-rich environment. 

Conclusion

In this paper I have tried to argue that mutual suspicion between teachers and theoretical researchers is misplaced and stems from the failure of each to understand what motivates the other. I have also tried to suggest practical ways in which teachers can broaden their repertoires by contributing to the ongoing exchange of language teaching ideas through professional publication or by conducting applied classroom research which tests hypotheses about the processes of teaching and learning. So, if you have found any of this persuasive, act now! 

References

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Brookes, A. E., Grundy, P. & Young-Scholten, M. C. (1996). Tutor and student evaluation of activity design and purpose. In M. Hewings, & T. Dudley-Evans (Eds.), Evaluation and course design in EAP (pp. 36-44). Hemel Hempstead: Prentice Hall Macmillan. 
Bukta, K. (2000). Reflections on the test-taking strategies of 7th and 11th grade Hungarian students of English. novELTy, 7 (3), 48-59.
Clarke, M. (1994). The dysfunctions of the theory/practice discourse. TESOL Quarterly, 28, 9-26.
Elekes, K. (2000). "Please, keep talking": The `think-aloud' method in second language reading research. novELTy, 7 (3), 4-14.
Ellis, R. (1998) Second Language Acquisition research - what's in it for teachers? In P. Grundy (Ed.), IATEFL 1998 Manchester Conference Selections (pp. 10-18). Whitstable: IATEFL. 
Gass, S.M. (1988). Integrating research areas: A framework for second language studies. Applied Linguistics, 9, 198-217.
Grundy, P. (1995) Writing about writing. IATEFL ESP SIG Newsletter June 1995, 9-12.
Grundy, P., & Liew, E. (1996) Writing about writing: Teaching the process and achieving a product. Asian Journal of English Language Teaching, 6, 45-60.
McLean, A.C. (1997). (Ed.) SIG Selections 1997: Special Interests in ELT. Whitstable: IATEFL.
Petric, B. (2000). The effect of listening instruction on the development of listening skills of university students of English. novELTy, 7 (3), 15-29.