Although you appear to be asking for other people’s experience in transitioning careers rather than soliciting advice about your own decission, it may be useful to provide a little background on your own situation so responders can provide pertinent experience. What piqued your interest in forensic computing? Are you genuinely interested in the field for its own sake or are you just kind of desperate to get away from what you are currently doing? Have you worked in the field in some capacity previously, do you know others who have recommended it to you based upon your skills, or is it something you’ve read about and have interest in. You say you have “no computer science background”; do you mean that you have no education in computer science but enjoy coding and scripting, you don’t program but you enjoy logical puzzles or have a fair amount of statistics and mathematics, or that you literally have no experience in the coding, algoritm development, data analysis, et cetera? How much research have you done in the field of forensic computing? As TriPolar notes, there is a general breakdown of “shooters” and “planners”, i.e. the people who make and apply the tools to process data and develop basic statistics, and the people who interpret the statistics and look for patterns or develop plans for protection, and within that there are many industry-specific niches for people with particular expertise, just as practicing “corporate litigation” or “international law” has many different areas of actual practice.
To address your question, I’ve investigated and then declined career transitions twice, and am currently considering another. The first time I was contemplating going back to school to get a doctorate in computational molecular biology with an intented focus in genomics, and specifically investigating defects that occur during DNA replication. This was based in part on a growing interest in evolutionary and developmental biology in general, and specifiically in applying computational methods that I’ve learned in school or on the side but have had little opportunity to apply in engineering practice. I ultimately decided not to pursue this path because while I found the discipline area interesting I wasn’t assured that I’d be able to work on what I really wanted to do, the opportunity cost of spending 6-7 years of my thirties back in grad school was not fiscally appealing, I was not at all confident that I’d have the fortitude to see the research I was assigned through to a PhD, and finally the graduate students of the PI I was contemplating working for (and whom he had sent me to talk to) were ambivilent about his management and advising. It was probably the correct decision, but whenever I read about new advances in the field and see techniques I myself would have applied I do feel a twinge of regret. On the other hand, on the few occasions where I’ve actually talked to people working in the field, they seem almost universally miserable and overstressed over the state of non-applied (i.e. non-phrama) research and their eventual career path, even those who have survived the “publish or perish” phase of a post-doc and have some degree of sustained funding.
My other planned career shift was to become a screenwriter. This was based on a long fascination with both films and the sometimes-creative-but-often-tortured process of creating a story, characters, and then guiding the plot complications to a logical conclusion, often to the point of obsessiveness. (I have a good memory for dialog and imagery, and there are many films I can describe scene by scene and quote the entire dialogue end-to-end.) I took a film survey class as a well-regarded film school (primarily intended for people in the industry to get a more comprehensive understanding of the filmmaking process and also to network). The class itself was fantastic; I learned to break down scenes and construct them in a written screenplay in order to make them filmable; how to define character motivations in dialogue alone; the mechanics of a shoot, and how to estimate the amount of time it takes to set up and shoot different kinds of scenes (and how to do it most efficiently); and of course, how to actually format and write stories in a cinematic context, which is very, very different from writing a novela or novel. (Most films have about the same story content as a long short story, but of course, much of the effort in making a filmable story is providing the appropriate visual context, hence why adapting a full novel to a single 120-180 minute film inevitable loses major chuncks of material and often whole characters, and why the miniseries or short series format is far more amenable to direct adaptation as seen with the BBC Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy or the HBO miniseries of Mildred Pierce are far more faitful and complete renditions of their source material than the movies of the same.) Anyway, as you can tell, I love writing and films, and I think I’m pretty conversant with both. What I’m not tolerant of is all of the horseshit that goes along with the film industry, most of which has as little to do with the creative process of making films as the pharamceutical industry does with making people healthier.
In my networking with people who were working grunt level positions in the industry (production assistances, script readers, et cetera) who aspired to creative or production positions I came to view the industry as a largely soul-sucking abyss where creative work sometimes happens despite, rather than because of, all of the help. Unless you happen to be both lucky and smart, and not just a little handsome–as in, write your own screenplay, get it noticed by some already popular figure who pushes it up exective levels of a production studio to get it made, get a key supporting role by the same, cast a bunch of your friends in it who are so comfortable with each other it doesn’t even seem like acting, and then win an Oscar which serves as a launchpad for a career in an almost unbroken string of acclaimed performances–the odds are good that you are going to end up working the sitcom grind, or shitting out production notes for some craptastic reality TV show, or writing terrible poetry in a seedy East Hollywood dive bar. Three of my favorite working writer/directors are Shane Black (originally noted for selling screenplays for Lethal Weapon, The Last Boy Scout, The Last Action Hero for record-breaking amounts, then writer/director of the awesome but little seen Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and the often panned but ambitious Iron Man 3), Charlie Kaufman (wrote Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, writer/director of Synecdoche, N.Y. and writer/co-director of last year’s stop-motion Anomalisa), and Martin McDonagh (playwright tuned filmmaker of In Bruges and Seven Psychopaths). However, despite their obvious talents and critical acclaim, only Black has achieved any real measure of career success, and mostly by selling scripts and script-doctoring rather than through his own production, and his battles with production studios are almost as legendary as Orson Welles. I have a hard time seeing myself as dedicating the decades to that kind of career with a relatively poor chance of being financially or creatively successful.
I’m currently considering another transition option, going from engineering (in the space launch industry) to space property and regulatory law. This would mean the opportunity cost of sitting out three years of what is probably my most productive earning years going to school as well as accumulating debt; on the other hand, I’ve gotten about as far as I’m ever going to go in a technical engineering position, and having sampled management and found both and myself wanting I have no interest in trying to pursue an executive level track at a conventional aerospace firm, nor am I overly enthused about working for a space start-up unless I feel I have significant input and control over technical decisions affecting the success of the company. So, I’m still looking at both the opportunities that pursuing the requisite education would open up, both in “space law” (such as it is) and associated areas of legal practice such as tech-based intellectual property law, and the costs associated with that transition, which are unappealing to say the least, but may ultimately prove to be worth it.
At some point, however, you have to stop studying and being critical, and make a decision to fish or cut bait. Either a transition is worth it–if not finanically, then in career satisfaction or a sense of moral duty in doing something that is right rather than just what is easiest–or it isn’t, and you stake your claim or go home.
I don’t know if any of that stream of consciousness actually helped, but sharing some of your particulars may get you more focused and appropriate insight. Good luck to you in whatever decision you make.
Stranger