How to be a Productive Scholar: Set Daily Reading and Writing Goals

I love many aspects of being a historian. The hunt for information sits atop my list. Putting the puzzle pieces of information together in my writing ranks next. However, I really dislike the periods in between serious research and writing; when I spend copious amounts of time reading the historiography.

I love reading, but I hate not having anything tangible to show at the end of the day.

At some point, I came to equate productivity with written pages.

Tired of feeling unproductive when it comes to the truly worthwhile task of reading, I decided to make some changes to my daily work routine.

Last week, I concluded that I needed to write every day in order to feel productive.

Several books suggest daily writing as the key to scholarly production; most authors urge readers to set aside time every day, even just an hour, where they turn-off the internet, tune out all distractions, and write. They argue that even just one page a day adds up to a book-length manuscript at the end of a year.

This advice made a lot of sense when I read it and it helped me finish my dissertation. However, I am at the stage where in order to revise my dissertation into a book, I need to read more widely.

When I started to tackle my reading list, I quickly fell back into my early-dissertation habit of spending nearly all my time reading, not writing. I wanted to write, but I did not feel like I had enough information to start editing what I had already written. Then I had an epiphany: I should write a working outline.

Outlining has allowed me to focus on specific areas of my revision without tampering with my actual document—i.e. I am revising in a way that does not prematurely place my developing thoughts with my more mature ideas. My outline looks kind of like a mini précis: it supplies applicable book arguments, useful notes on how to reinterpret my sources, page numbers where I can find evidence, and the ideas and connections I formed while reading the book.

This week, I spent an hour or two each morning working on an outline. I have produced a page or two of writing each day. None of these pages are polished, but they allow me to see the produce that comes from my reading. As a result I feel more productive. Moreover, I know these outlines will prove useful when I get to the stage where I formally make my revisions.

How to Publish a Scholarly Book Review

At a recent talk, Chris Grasso and Karin Wulf discussed how to publish scholarly articles and book reviews. Wulf serves as the Book Review Editor for The William and Mary Quarterly. From this position, she offered an enlightening perspective on how to publish scholarly book reviews. Wulf encouraged the audience to look at book reviews as opportunities rather than as obligations. Book reviews give scholars the chance to get noticed. Through a review, readers become acquainted with both the reviewed book and the book reviewer. Book reviews serve as the last step in the peer review process; they offer the last formal piece of scholarly conversation about the contribution of a particular scholar. Wulf mentioned that book reviews are read more often than journal articles because they allow scholars to access the most recent scholarship in a matter of minutes. Moreover, book reviews have longevity. Scholars read reviews long after publishers release a book. For Example, Wulf mentioned that Richard Dunn's October 1999 review of Ira Berlin's Many Thousands Gone is the most frequently accessed piece for the WMQ. For published pieces after 1999, the distinction goes to Peter Coclanis's review of Ira Berlin's The Captivity of a Generation. Wulf recommended the latter piece as an example of a great book review.

Wulf spent some time addressing the ethics of reviewing. First, scholars should review books only when they think they can be fair. Everyone understands that reviewing is not an impartial business, but scholars should avoid reviewing books that are too closely related to their work; these reviews often become essays about why the reviewed book is not as good as the reviewer's book. Scholars should also avoid reviewing the work of close colleagues and friends. Wulf suggested that reviewers consult the American Historical Association website for the ethical standards of the profession; H-Net Reviews offers a summarized version here. Someone in the audience offered the National Book Critics Circle as another resource with useful guidelines for reviewing.

Wulf also discussed how book reviews in The William and Mary Quarterly differ from other journals. The WMQ publishes lengthy reviews of at least 1200 words for a single book, many of the reviews run 1500-1700 words. The WMQ only considers reviews written by scholars with a doctorate.

Wulf encouraged junior scholars to be proactive and seek out book review editors at journals and on-line forums like H-Net Reviews. In their e-mails, scholars should provide the editor with a brief introductory note about who they are and the kinds of books they would like to review. Scholars should also attach a CV to their e-mail. For those content to wait until book reviewers discover them, Wulf mentioned that she knows several book review editors who keep an eye out for savvy reviewers on H-Net Reviews and by reading book reviews in other journals.

How to Publish Articles in an Academic Journal

Last week, I attended a talk given by Chris Grasso and Karin Wulf about how to publish articles in academic journal. Grasso and Wulf serve respectively as the Editor and Book Review Editor for The William and Mary Quarterly. Their helpful presentation really shed light on what goes on behind the scenes at a peer-reviewed journal. In this post I will recap Grasso's advice for submitting a scholarly journal article. I will reserve Wulf's pointers for book reviews for my next post. Grasso outlined the general procedure for publishing in a scholarly journal and specified when the process at the WMQ differed from other journals. In general, the author submits an article to a journal. The journal editor then reads the submission and considers whether or not their journal would publish on the proposed topic. If the editor believes that the proffered topic could be a good fit for their journal they arrange to send the submission on to the next round: peer review. Editors ask scholars with expertise in the tendered subject matter to review the piece. The number of reviewers depends on the journal. The WMQ uses 3-5 referees and asks them to complete their review within 6-8 weeks. Grasso mentioned that all referees take their job seriously and spend hours looking over and commenting on a piece; journals do not pay referees for their time. With that said, he mentioned that some scholars can be severe critics, but if authors can take the criticism, they will find that they can use even the harshest feedback to their advantage as they revise and resubmit their work. Once the editor receives feedback from all the referees, they decide whether or not to publish the article, reject it, or offer the author the opportunity to revise and resubmit. Grasso stressed that referees do not "cast a vote" as to whether or not an article should be published, that decision lies solely with the editor. Editors base their decision on whether or not they agree with the referees' feedback.

Before giving the article and his decision back to the author, Grasso reads and distills the referees' feedback so he can tell the author exactly what they need to revise in order to publish in the WMQ. He feels that this guidance is important, especially as the WMQ allows authors to revise and resubmit only once. Grasso mentioned that The William and Mary Quarterly receives about 100 submissions a year, that 50-75 percent of the submissions move on to the peer review process, and of those he publishes about 12 percent. Of course, this last number depends on how many authors revise and resubmit their pieces to the journal. Grasso aims to keep the initial review process to 3 months, but it can take up to 4 or 5 months. Once accepted, The William and Mary Quarterly moves fast and authors can expect to see their work in print within about 6 months.

Grasso also provided useful advice for submitting scholarly articles. First, authors need to read and conform to the submission guidelines for their chosen journal. Second, if authors receive a revise and resubmit decision and remain unclear about what they need to revise for publication, they should email the editor and ask for clarification. Grasso warned that asking for clarification does not mean that authors should ask editors to review their revision plan; most editors have too much to do to read revision proposals.

How Long Until You Belong?: A Scholar Rethinks Historical Sources

Recently I had two of those conversations that stick with you. The first occurred when a friend showed me a portion of her postcard and photo collection. Her pictures chart the history of Albany through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and this portion of her collection captured various parades in Albany during the 1930s. As she showed me the photos, she mentioned that she had brought them to show another friend, an elderly gentleman. I quipped that our friend might point out that he had watched those parades in person. She replied, "Oh no, he was probably just a baby at the time. Besides, [our friend] has lived here [in Albany] for only about fifty years; he is not a native Albanyan." A week later, I found myself involved in another discussion about what it means to be a "native Albanyan," a community insider. This person said she had lived in Albany for nearly thirty years and remarked something to the effect of "Albanyans are an exclusive bunch. Even after many years of living here [in Albany] I still feel like an outsider."

I know that the issue of community "insiders vs. outsiders" is not unique to Albany. I grew up in a New England town where it is common to refer to your neighbors' houses by the names of the people who departed from them over twenty years ago. Moreover, I have studied how immigrant and migrant groups have, and do, experience the same feelings of "insiders vs. outsiders" when they come to reside in a new country and community. Yet, for whatever reason, it resonated with me that people still believe that if you are not born in a community then you can never truly belong, even after you have lived in a place for more than thirty years.

I am grateful that I had these conversations because they led me to think more deeply about my historical sources. I have only one source that directly discusses how unwelcome the writer's new, Albany neighbors made him feel when he arrived in 1798. Yet I have many more sources that describe Albany as a "foreign" and "Dutch" city (these sources span 1750-1810). Eager to make my point that Albany did not, in fact, constitute  a true "Dutch" city, my dissertation refutes the authors' claims and concentrates on how the Albanyans worked to welcome newcomers. These conversations helped me to realize that my analysis unwittingly shows bias for the Albanyans' point of view. Now I understand that my dissertation does not fully consider how the authors' descriptions reflect that they felt like outsiders, even without their interacting with the people of Albany. The colonial Albanyans' Dutch-inspired architecture, Dutch-dialect, and hybrid customs seemed strange enough to passersby and new migrants that those characteristics alone made newcomers feel like they would never belong.

Newcomers felt more welcome after their initial shock over the appearance and sound of Albany wore off. Moreover, by the 1820s newcomers no longer commented on the seeming foreignness of Albany. Even Rev. Timothy Dwight remarked how Albany resembled an American city that other developing communities in upstate and western New York should emulate in both appearance and manners. Still, these recent conversations now have me thinking about whether the newcomers I studied ever felt like insiders. Even after the Albanyans adopted more ubiquitous architectural styles and the dialect of their American peers, and the newcomers had lived in Albany for twenty, thirty, or more years, did these non-Albany-born residents ever feel like, or identify, as "native" Albanyans or Albany insiders?  After all, if there are people today who do not feel like natives or insiders after fifty years of residence, did the people of the past ever feel like they belonged to a community that they were not born into? I will continue to think about this as I revise my dissertation into a book.