The Book Proposal Book: A Guide for Scholarly Authors 9780691216621

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The Book Proposal Book

Skills for Scholars The Book Proposal Book: A Guide for Scholarly Authors, Laura Portwood-­Stacer The Prince­ton Guide to Historical Research, Zachary M. Schrag You Are What You Read: A Practical Guide to Reading Well, Robert DiYanni Super Courses: The ­Future of Teaching and Learning, Ken Bain Syllabus: The Remarkable, Unremarkable Document That Changes Every­thing, William Germano and Kit Nicholls Leaving Academia: A Practical Guide, Christopher L. Caterine A Field Guide to Grad School: Uncovering the Hidden Curriculum, Jessica McCrory Calarco How to Think like Shakespeare: Lessons from a Re­nais­sance Education, Scott Newstok The Craft of College Teaching: A Practical Guide, Robert DiYanni and Anton Borst

The Book Proposal Book A Guide for Scholarly Authors

Laura Portwood-­Stacer

P R I N C E ­T O N U N I V ER S I T Y P R ES S P R I N C E ­T O N A N D OX FO R D

Copyright © 2021 by Laura Portwood-­Stacer Prince­ton University Press is committed to the protection of copyright and the intellectual property our authors entrust to us. Copyright promotes the pro­gress and integrity of knowledge. Thank you for supporting ­free speech and the global exchange of ideas by purchasing an authorized edition of this book. If you wish to reproduce or distribute any part of it in any form, please obtain permission. Requests for permission to reproduce material from this work should be sent to permissions@press​.­princeton​.­edu Published by Prince­ton University Press 41 William Street, Prince­ton, New Jersey 08540 6 Oxford Street, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1TR press​.­princeton​.­edu All Rights Reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data Names: Portwood-­Stacer, Laura, author. Title: The book proposal book : a guide for scholarly authors / Laura Portwood-­Stacer. Description: Prince­ton : Prince­ton University Press, [2021] | Series: Skills for scholars | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020036972 (print) | LCCN 2020036973 (ebook) | ISBN 9780691215723 (hardback ; acid-­free paper) | ISBN 9780691209678 (paperback ; acid-­free paper) | ISBN 9780691216621 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Book proposals—­Handbooks, manuals, ­etc. | Scholarly publishing—­Handbooks, manuals, ­etc. Classification: LCC PN161 .P67 2021 (print) | LCC PN161 (ebook) | DDC 808.06/6378–­dc23 LC rec­ord available at https://­lccn​.­loc​.­gov​/­2020036972 LC ebook rec­ord available at https://­lccn​.­loc​.­gov​/­2020036973 British Library Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data is available Editorial: Peter Dougherty and Alena Chekanov Production Editorial: Kathleen Cioffi Text Design: Wanda España Cover Design: Matt Avery, Monograph LLC Production: Erin Suydam Publicity: Maria Whelan and Kathryn Stevens Copyeditor: Kellye McBride This book has been composed in Arno Pro Printed on acid-­free paper. ∞ Printed in the United States of Amer­i­ca 10 ​9 ​8 ​7 ​6 ​5 ​4 ​3 ​2 ​1

For Brad

Contents Acknowl­e dgments 

ix

Introduction

1

1

6

Know the Pro­cess: Your Readers and the Importance of Fit Step 1: Identify Your Target Presses Step 2: Research and Evaluate Your Target Presses Step 3: Gather Submission Information for Your Target Presses and Summarize Your Book’s Fit

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

Write for Publication: What Presses Value in Your Scholarly Book Proj­ect

14 15 17 27

Step 4: Generate Raw Material for Your Proposal Package Step 5: Draft a Letter of Inquiry to Introduce Your Proj­e ct to Editors

30

Find Your Place: Competing and Comparable Works

37

Step 6: Collect a List of Comp Titles

39

Identify Your Audiences and Market: Who Is Your Book ­Really For?

44

Step 7: Articulate Your Book’s Audience

46

Showcase Your Core Thesis: Strong Arguments Make Strong Books

54

Step 8: State Your Book’s Thesis Step 9: Distill a One-­L iner for Your Proj­e ct

56 58

Give an Overview: A Template for Proj­ect Descriptions

62

Step 10: Draft a Proj­e ct Description

64

Expose the Structure: Effective Chapter Summaries

68

Step 11: Summarize Your Book’s Chapters

70

Invite Readers In: Book and Chapter Titles

77

Step 12: Come Up with Working Titles for Your Book and Its Chapters

78

Put Yourself on the Page: Style and Voice

82

Step 13: Revise Your Proposal Materials for Style and Voice

85

30

vii

viii • Contents

10 ­Really Put Yourself On the Page: Your Author Biography and CV Step 14: Write an Author Biography Step 15: Create an Author CV from Your Full CV

11 ­Don’t Forget the Details: Specs, Status, and Other Ele­ments of a Complete Proposal Package Step 16: Assem­b le Your Prospectus

12 Make the Connection: When and How to Reach Out to Publishers Step 17: Prepare to Connect with Editors Step 18: Submit Your Proposal

13 Keep Your Cool: Navigating Reader Reports, Contracts, and Other Decision Points Step 19: Respond to Your Reader Reports

14 See It Through: Permissions, Proofs, and Promotion Step 20: Get a Head Start on Your Promotion Efforts

Conclusion: Maintaining Perspective

Steps to Complete  151 Assessing Your Proposal Materials  153 Sample Documents  157 Suggestions for Further Reading  177 Bibliography  181 Time-­Tested Tips and Frequently Asked Questions by Chapter  183 Index  191

89 90 91 95 99 105 107 109 122 126 135 141 148

Acknowl­edgments

Thanks go, first of all, to my editor Peter Dougherty for his sustained enthusiasm for this proj­ect and for his belief that Prince­ton University Press should publish it. I’m grateful as well to PUP director Christie Henry for her warmth and support, and to editors Alena Chekanov, Bridget Flannery-­McCoy, and Jenny Tan for their feedback and helpful conversations. The Book Proposal Book has also benefited from the involvement of a number of other ­people at Prince­ton University Press, including contracts man­ag­er Ceylan Akturk, se­ nior production editor Kathleen Cioffi, assistant production man­ag­er Erin Suydam, creative director Maria Lindenfeldar, book designer Wanda España, design manager Ruthie Rosenstock, cover designer Matt Avery of Monograph LLC, illustration man­ag­er Dimitri Karetnikov, director of copywriting Bob Bettendorf, marketing assistant Dayna Hagewood, promotions man­ag­er Maria Whelan, publicist Kathryn Stevens, digital production specialist Clare Ferris, digital and audio publisher Kim Williams, and social media manager Becky Elmuccio. I thank copy editor Kellye McBride and indexer Julie ­Shawvan for their careful attention. To all the other unsung individuals at Prince­ton and beyond who have touched this book along its path into the hands of readers, I thank you. I could not have produced this book without input and support from the broader scholarly editing and publishing communities of which I feel fortunate to be a part. The anonymous reviewers of my proposal and manuscript gave me impor­tant items to think about as this proj­ect developed. Peter ­Ginna’s encouragement and suggestions for the manuscript at both early and ­later stages w ­ ere enormously helpful. Conversations with Andrew Berzanskis, Laura Davulis, and Dawn Durante have been vital to the outcome of proj­ect. Much appreciation as well to all the publishing personnel who have taken time to engage with me on Twitter and in other contexts, including Elizabeth Ault, Joseph Calamia, Margaret Cummins, Melody Herr, Kate McKean, Lisha ­Nadkarni, Alexis Siemon, Jason Weidemann, and many o­ thers. In my freelance editing community, I’ve received kind support from a number of colleagues; I especially want to thank Heath Sledge and Malini Devadas for their humanity and editorial expertise. ix

x • Acknowl­ e dgments

Four beta readers and early c­ areer scholars—­Kurtis Boyer, Kelley Fong, Jasmine D. Hill, and Samuel Yates—­thoughtfully and thoroughly engaged with my manuscript in its late stages. All four readers gave me detailed, incisive feedback that improved the book. I hope other authors are lucky enough to get them as reviewers in the f­ uture, and I look forward to reading their own books when they are published. The hundreds of participants in the first four sessions of my Book Proposal Accelerator program served as obliging pi­lot testers for much of the material in this book, and their feedback and questions were integral from the proj­ect’s conception to the final stages of revision. Thank you to Lily Kelting and Marie Ostby, whose proj­ects inspired a c­ ouple of the examples in this book. A par­ tic­u­lar shout-­out goes to Jim Casey from the pi­lot Accelerator group, who thought Peter Dougherty at Prince­ton University Press might be interested in my proj­ect and made an introduction for which I’ll be forever grateful. This book would not exist without my author clients from whom I’ve learned so much. I am fortunate to get to do the work that I do and I value ­every person who entrusts me with their book proposal or book manuscript draft. Readers ­w ill find several of them cited as examples throughout this book. I’d particularly like to thank Morgan Ames and Lilly Irani for their ongoing support (and for letting me collaborate with them on their impressive first books). I’m so grateful that Blake Atwood, Elizabeth Cherry, and Jennifer McClearen generously allowed to me to reproduce parts of their book proposals in this guide. I hope that readers w ­ ill find their materials instructive as examples and seek out their wonderful books to read in full. I’m indebted to my dearest friends who have variously read drafts, given advice, and dispensed pep talks when I needed them. Inna Arzumanova, Sarah Banet-­Weiser, John Cheney-­Lippold, Zach Curd, Christina T. Dunbar-­Hester, Meghan Moran, and Evren Savcı, I love you all more than I can say. Thank you to my parents, Norma Portwood-­Stacer and ­Will Stacer, my parents-­in-­law, Sally and Bill Waskewich, and the rest of my ­family for all the love and cheering on. Fi­nally, I owe so much to my spouse and coparent, Brad Waskewich, who has provided unmea­sur­able support in innumerable forms. Of all his kindnesses, I most appreciate his enduring willingness to listen and offer perspective through e­ very moment of this pro­cess. Brad and I cohabitated through the writing of my first book, and somehow he still managed to be fully encouraging of my ­doing it again. I promised years ago that my second book would be dedicated to him, and so it is.

The Book Proposal Book

 Introduction

As a group, scholarly authors—­even experienced ones—­have a lot to learn about the book proposal as a genre and the publishing pro­cess more generally. It’s not for lack of interest. In my work as a developmental editor and publishing con­sul­tant for academic writers, I’ve spent innumerable hours educating clients about the purposes and norms of the book proposal and found myself giving the same advice again and again. I’ve heard the refrain “Why d­ idn’t anyone teach us this!?” more times than I can count. This has signaled to me that academic writers need a concise guide to the book publishing context and how to navigate it at the proposal stage. I wanted to give such writers a practical handbook to walk them through the pro­cess of crafting their pitches and to demystify the tacit expectations that make the proposal genre dif­fer­ent from other, more familiar, types of academic writing. An author who understands the power of a strong proposal in the publishing pro­cess is an author with more power over the fate of their book. The guide ­you’re now reading is an integrated program that ­will take you through each step of researching and writing a proposal that ­will sell your book to an editor at a scholarly press. Even if ­you’ve published a book before, I think you ­w ill find information ­here that you ­didn’t know the first time around. Maybe ­you’re just starting to think about your next book; beginning with the proposal and the steps outlined in this handbook is an excellent way to map out the proj­ect before you draft the manuscript. What­ever stage y­ ou’re at with your current proj­ect and your publishing ­career, I hope that using this guide ­will help you gain meaningful insight into your own research and the message you want to share with the world. You’ll not only write a power­ful proposal, you’ll write a power­ful book. Who This Book Is For The reader I address in this book is a scholar with an academic background, prob­ably with a PhD or on their way to getting one, or more generally interested in participating in a broad intellectual conversation. You may be trying to publish your first book or your fourth. You may be affiliated with a university

1

2 • Introduction

or you may be an in­de­pen­dent scholar. You may be working in the humanities, social sciences, STEM fields, or interdisciplinary areas, aiming to make an original contribution to scholarly knowledge and discourse. This guide is therefore directed at helping you pitch your proj­ect to scholarly publishers, rather than mainstream commercial publishing h­ ouses.1 The advice h­ ere is also geared ­toward authors writing books based on their original research. You may find this guide helpful if you are hoping to pitch a textbook, edited antho­ logy, or some other kind of book aimed at a scholarly audience, but I ­don’t address t­ hose scenarios explic­itly ­here.2 I focus on U.S. publishers in this guide, though you’ll prob­ably find that many of the princi­ples I share ­w ill apply in other settings as well. I’m h­ ere to give you some best practices for packaging your research to meet the needs of scholarly book publishers and readers, so that you have the greatest chance of reaching them with your message. Although the book proposal seems like a ­simple and straightforward document to publishing professionals who read them e­ very day, the proposal is often unfamiliar territory for authors themselves. You prob­ably know from experience that ju­nior scholars learn the norms of publishing informally and haphazardly, and then it often only happens if you can find allies who w ­ ill recognize and decode the “hidden 3 curriculum” for you. Se­nior faculty and publishing staff are overcommitted, rarely having as much time as they would like to read drafts and offer advice. I’ve written this guide to fill in the gaps and level the playing field, as much as any one book could do. Many publishing professionals mean well and intend to consider all book proj­ects on their own merits. Even so, patterns exist in which certain scholars tend to enjoy the presumption of competence in academic contexts, while ­others may be scrutinized more closely by t­ hose in power or assumed not to belong at all, as the many contributors to the volume Presumed Incompetent: The Intersections of Race and Class for ­Women in Academia have pointed out. Structural forces (and some individuals) within academia have worked to marginalize and oppress Black scholars, Indigenous scholars, other scholars of 1. If you want to write a nonfiction trade book, the kind that might command a big advance and garner tens of thousands of readers beyond the acad­emy, t­ here are other resources out t­ here to help you do that. As a place to start, I recommend the materials on Jane Friedman’s website, janefriedman​.­com, as well as her book, The Business of Being a Writer. 2. Beth Luey’s Handbook for Academic Authors contains chapters addressing textbooks and edited volumes. I recommend that book as a supplement to this one if you want to learn about how such books get published. 3. Jackson, Life In Classrooms.

Introduction • 3

color, ­women scholars, queer scholars, trans scholars, disabled scholars, scholars from poor and working-­class backgrounds, and scholars at the intersections of ­these categories. This marginalization and oppression compounds with the publishing industry’s own prob­lems of racism, elitism, and other toxic dynamics that are unfortunately so familiar in the acad­emy and beyond it. In calling attention to this, I ­don’t mean to discount the work scholarly presses have done to publish books by writers from underrepresented and historically excluded groups, books that have ­shaped fields and advanced ­causes for social justice. It’s undeniable, though, that social capital and entrenched systems of power still count for a lot in decisions about who and what gets published and promoted. A handbook is not a solution to the structural defects of academia or publishing at large. Yet I hope that this handbook ­will assist you—­especially if ­you’re a scholar who has been marginalized, oppressed, or abused in academia—in ­going forth with the confidence that y­ ou’ve produced a proposal worthy of serious consideration by the kinds of publishing professionals you’d want to collaborate with on your book. They are out ­there, and I hope the knowledge you gain from this guide ­will help you find them. How to Use This Book I’ve structured this guide so that you can follow the progression of the chapters in order as you draft and pitch your scholarly book proposal. I begin by showing you how a book idea becomes a manuscript ­under contract and how to select appropriate presses for your par­tic­ul­ar proj­ect (chapter 1). The next several chapters ­will guide you through drafting the ele­ments that ­will make up your book proposal package, including your letter of introduction (chapter 2); a discussion of similar books (chapter 3); a description of your target audiences (chapter 4); an effective overview of your proj­ect and its thesis (chapters 5 and 6); compelling chapter summaries (chapter 7); and all the other information that publishers commonly request (chapters 10 and 11). Along the way, I explain how good titles and a strong voice can help sell your book, first to publishers and then to readers (chapters 8 and 9). Fi­nally, I walk you through how to approach publishers when ­you’re ready (chapter 12), and I offer advice on how to navigate the submission, peer review, contract, production, and promotion pro­cesses (chapters 13 and 14). While this progression of chapters w ­ ill work well for some readers, you should feel ­free to consult the chapters of this book in any order. If y­ ou’re already somewhere in the ­middle of working on your proposal or you just need help in a par­tic­u­lar area, you should be able to dip into the t­ able of contents

4 • Introduction

and find the information you need. I’ve designed this guide with the rhythms and constraints of scholarly life in mind, b­ ecause I understand that y­ ou’re prob­ably trying to fit work on your book proposal in between many other professional and personal activities. The discrete steps presented across the book w ­ ill allow you to assem­ble a proposal out of manageable building blocks that you can complete at your own pace, even if you only have a few spare minutes per week. If you set larger blocks of time aside, you can prob­ably have a complete proposal ready to discuss with publishers in just a week or two. I’ve put the steps in an intentional order to help you craft your proposal most efficiently, but you may choose to tackle the steps in any sequence and at any pace that makes sense to you. I hope that you’ll keep this book close at hand throughout your publishing c­ areer so that you can consult it as a reference as questions arise. Always remember that the index is your friend. Each chapter begins with a brief narrative discussion of the topic at hand, followed by a step or set of steps to complete. To offer further assistance and context, I offer “Time-­Tested Tips” drawn from common pitfalls and successes. Each chapter ends with a set of answers to questions frequently asked by prospective authors. ­These tips and questions are also presented in a list, broken down by chapter, t­ oward the end of the book, so you can locate them ­later for quick reference if you need to. In addition to the main chapters, this guide includes several tools to assist you in crafting your proposal and navigating your publication journey. Comprehensive checklists synthesize all the steps and tips from across the main chapters to provide a master list of the ele­ments to be included in your book proposal package. You can use the checklists to perform a final quality check on your proposal ­after y­ ou’ve assembled it or to or­ga­nize your work plan from the beginning. You ­w ill also find sample documents—­two prospectuses, a letter of introduction, and a response to reader reports—­that you can use as models for your own. Th ­ ese are real documents my clients have used successfully, and I’ve highlighted areas of par­tic­u­lar effectiveness and appeal so that you can emulate them if you wish. Suggestions for further reading ­will point you ­toward books you may find helpful at vari­ous stages in your writing and publishing pro­cess. Downloadable worksheets and other resources to assist you in completing the steps laid out in The Book Proposal Book can be found online at bookproposalbook​.­com. In creating this guide, I draw on my years of experience working with hundreds of academic writers on their book manuscripts and book proposals. My clients have signed contracts and published award-­winning books with dozens of competitive university presses. I am in direct contact with aspiring authors

Introduction • 5

e­ very day, and they approach me with the issues they hesitate to discuss with colleagues, mentors, and acquisitions editors. My advice is based on what I have seen work for authors and on numerous conversations with acquisitions editors themselves. I also draw on my experience as a scholarly author. Three years a­ fter completing my PhD, I published a book4 based on my doctoral dissertation, and I well remember what it was like to fumble through the often-­confusing pro­cess on my own, despite having generous editors and mentors to help. I understand the challenges y­ ou’re facing as you set out to write and pitch your scholarly book, ­because I’ve faced many of ­these challenges myself. I ­can’t take all the anxiety out of submitting your hard work for judgment by ­others, but I hope to eliminate a good deal of the uncertainty from this endeavor for you. Any publishing professional w ­ ill tell you that ­there is no singular “right” way to write a successful book proposal (though ­they’ll usually grant that ­there are plenty of wrong ways). For this reason, general advice w ­ ill only take you so far. While this book takes a practical approach, offering templates and tips that might seem prescriptive at first blush, keep in mind that they are just ­there to give you a point of departure. Dif­fer­ent editors have dif­fer­ent preferences, and while I’ve tried to synthesize t­ hose into the broadest pos­si­ble recommendations, ­there ­will always be room for variation. Indeed, I’ve seen many authors successfully publish scholarly books without following ­every piece of advice I ­will pre­sent h­ ere. I also acknowledge that this guide is ­limited to helping you navigate the scholarly publishing system that currently exists, not imagining a better system that could be pushed for and one day realized. All that said, I believe that having a sense of the pre­sent unwritten “rules” of scholarly publishing ­will set you up to push and break them to best effect, should you decide to do so. The way you plan and pitch your book is ultimately up to you, but I w ­ ill do my best to get you started on the right foot. 4.  Portwood-­Stacer, Lifestyle Politics and Radical Activism.

1

Know the Pro­cess Your Readers and the Importance of Fit

Why do you want to publish a book? “­Because I have to for my c­ areer” is a reason I hear a lot. “­Because I need to have something to show for all the research I’ve done” is another one. Maybe ­you’ve always wanted your bookshelf to feature a bound volume with your own name on the cover. ­These are all valid reasons, but right now I want you to set them aside and think about the possibility of readers. “­Because a lot of readers ­will want to hear what I have to say” is, maybe, the best reason to produce a book. The true power of a scholarly book is that it can get your expert knowledge into the hands of hundreds or thousands of readers who w ­ ill spend a significant amount of time with it, absorb it, appreciate it, and maybe even apply it to prob­lems they are working through themselves. ­Great scholarly books generate conversation among readers and shape w ­ hole areas of study. The book y­ ou’re reading right now is premised on the idea that, what­ever your other reasons for publishing a book are, you also care deeply about reaching readers of your own. Have you noticed that so far I’ve been talking about publishing a book, not writing one? That’s ­because publication is a par­tic­ul­ar pro­cess, and it’s distinct from the writing pro­cess. You may have written most of your book manuscript already, or you may only have a plan for writing it. For the purposes of this guide, it actually d­ oesn’t m ­ atter which stage y­ ou’re at with the manuscript itself. Publishing is what w ­ ill eventually turn your written manuscript into a material object and transport your knowledge to the readers you want to reach. For a book that you hope to publish with a scholarly press, you’ll need to effectively reach a set of preliminary readers before the pro­cess of rolling the book out to a broader audience can begin. ­These preliminary readers include acquisitions editors, possibly some series editors, a few expert peer reviewers, and a publisher’s staff and editorial board, and they all must be able to absorb and appreciate your book’s contribution before anyone e­ lse gets a shot at it.

6

Know the Pro­c ess  •  7

They have to vouch for the proj­ect’s capacity to appeal to an audience of hundreds or thousands of book-­purchasers in order to justify the publisher’s investment in packaging up and distributing your knowledge in book form. How do you reach ­those preliminary readers? It starts with a book proposal package: a prospectus, an author CV, and a sample of your writing. Some ­people use the words “proposal” and “prospectus” interchangeably; for clarity in this book, w ­ e’re ­going to use “prospectus” to refer to the single document that makes the pitch for your book and “proposal” to refer to the larger submission package that includes your CV and writing samples. The prospectus w ­ ill take on dif­fer­ent formats depending on the specific requirements of your target publisher, and ­there’s no set length it has to be (­unless your target publisher offers a guideline). In most cases, your prospectus w ­ ill include the following components: • A working title • An overview of the book • A description of the intended audience(s) for the book • A discussion of comparable titles and how your book fits in the marketplace • A complete ­table of contents with chapter summaries • Information about your qualifications as an author • Technical details (such as word count and illustrations) and the current status of the manuscript The next several chapters of this book (chapters 2–11) are g­ oing to help you craft your prospectus and the other ele­ments of your proposal package in order to reach your preliminary readers effectively. The remaining chapters (chapters 12–14) ­will help you navigate the stages of the publishing pro­cess that come before, during, and ­after submission of the proposal. The first step in creating a successful proposal package is understanding how that package ­will pass through the hands of the preliminary readers who ­will participate in the decision as to w ­ hether your “book proj­ect” ­will one day become your book. Understanding this pro­cess, and what your preliminary readers are looking for during it, ­will help you effectively reach ­those readers and give your proj­ect the best chance of becoming the book you want it to be. That’s why this chapter kicks t­ hings off with a quick run-­down of scholarly book acquisition, from the first contact an author makes with an acquiring editor to the signing of the contract. ­There may be variation in individual cases (and among dif­fer­ent kinds of publishers), but I’ll give you a pretty standard

8 • Chapter 1

picture of the acquisitions pro­cess as experienced by scholars who publish with university presses (UPs) or commercial academic presses. Then, ­because one of the biggest ­factors in landing a book contract is the fit between your manuscript and the publishers you pitch it to, this chapter is ­going to put you to work identifying appropriate target presses for your proj­ ect. I’ll provide you with some tips and questions that ­will help you narrow down your list of target presses and articulate why the presses you select are right for your proj­ect. Your articulation of how your target presses fit your proj­ect ­w ill be the first building block of what ­w ill eventually become your complete book proposal. The Acquisitions Pro­cess, from Contact to Contract Acquiring editors, also known as acquisitions editors, are ­people who work for scholarly publishers and usually specialize in a specific field or set of subject areas. The books they acquire in ­these areas are known as their “list.” They are responsible for bringing book proj­ects into the press and guiding them through the publication pro­cess, often helping to shape and improve the proj­ ects along the way. Acquisitions editors possess a good working knowledge of the academic fields they acquire in—­they’ve read a lot of books in ­those areas, ­after all—­but they may not be scholars themselves. A series editor is a scholar who collaborates with a publisher to acquire a collection of books united by a cohesive theme. Series editors are often well connected and highly vis­i­ble in academic communities and rely on their extensive networks to learn about new scholarship and up-­and-­coming authors. While your first contact at a publisher might be a series editor, the acquisitions editor is the one who ­will bring your book to your other preliminary readers (peer reviewers, press staff, editorial board) and see it through all the steps of publication. ­There are a number of ways to make an initial connection with an acquisitions or series editor. You might reach out via email or social media, or start up a conversation at an academic conference. A mutual contact, such as a colleague who has previously published with the editor, might make an introduction for you. An editor might reach out to you first if they see something intriguing about your research that c­ auses them to think it could make a good book. What­ever the circumstances of your initial connection, you’ll want to concisely summarize your proj­ect, bring up the names of any series or lists at the press that you think would be a good home for it, and situate yourself as an authority on your subject. (For much more advice on contacting editors,

Know the Pro­c ess  •  9

including how to figure out which editor at a given press to reach out to, see chapter 12.) When the editor learns about you and your proj­ect, ­they’ll consider ­whether your book is something their press could potentially be interested in publishing. They might know immediately that your proj­ect ­isn’t a fit, possibly ­because their press d­ oesn’t publish in your area, ­because they already have a similar book on your topic slated to come out soon, or b­ ecause the idea just ­doesn’t grab their attention strongly enough. If ­you’re lucky, the editor might want to talk through the concept with you more and encourage you to submit a full proposal. When you first meet an editor, you should also be gauging your interest in them. Does the editor seem like an approachable person whom you’d enjoy working with over the next few years? Do they demonstrate genuine understanding of and enthusiasm for your intellectual proj­ect? Can they explain how your book would fit into their publishing program and how they would help you reach your core readership? Would you be proud to have their press’s name on your book? (­There’s lots more to consider when selecting a press; I’ll get to that in a minute and return to it again in chapter 12 ­because it’s so impor­tant.) If you ­don’t have the opportunity to connect personally with an editor before preparing your book proposal, you can simply follow the submission instructions on the publisher’s website or in the series’ call for proposals. That’s fine, and it’s eminently pos­si­ble to get your proj­ect picked up without having a prior connection to an editor. When the editor reads your full proposal, they may realize that it’s not a fit with their list and let you know that. Even if the editor does see a fit, they may want to see you strengthen the concept and pre­sen­ta­tion before proceeding further, in which case they might ask you to revise the proposal and resubmit it. If y­ ou’ve submitted to a series editor and they like the proj­ect, they ­will pass it along to the acquisitions editor for approval by them as well. In the best-­case scenario, the acquiring editor ­will think the proj­ect is promising and want to go ahead with peer review of the proposal and some or all of the book manuscript. At some publishers, acquisitions editors pre­sent proj­ects they are excited about to other press staff and are then approved by an internal committee to proceed with peer review. At other presses, editors can proceed with peer review at their own discretion. If you make it to the peer review stage, your editor ­will ask you to provide the materials they need for review. Many presses w ­ ill move forward to peer

10 • Chapter 1

review with just a proposal and sample chapter or two; some presses prefer to wait on peer review ­until the author provides a full or nearly complete manuscript, especially for first-­time authors. When your materials go out for review, particularly if ­you’ve submitted a full manuscript, your editor may stipulate exclusive submission, meaning that they w ­ ill require you to (temporarily) pull the proj­ect from consideration elsewhere if you have submitted the proposal to multiple publishers. The exclusivity usually goes away once you get the reviews back, meaning that if you ­don’t like what the reviewers or editor want you to do with the manuscript, you can then try your luck with a dif­fer­ent press to give yourself some options. Note that up ­until the moment of peer review or contract, you are f­ ree to be in talks with editors at multiple presses in order to identify the best home for your book. As long as you are transparent with every­one that that’s what ­you’re ­doing, t­ here is no prob­lem with this at all. If an editor thinks your proj­ect is particularly appealing and recognizes that they ­will have to compete with other publishers for it, ­you’re in a strong negotiating position and they may agree to waive exclusivity during the peer review pro­cess. (For more advice on multiple versus exclusive submission, see “Frequently Asked Questions” in chapter 12.) During peer review, your editor w ­ ill ask expert scholars to evaluate your submitted materials and return their thoughts in the form of written reports. Unlike peer review conventions for scholarly journals, peer review for books is not anonymous in both directions. While you w ­ on’t know the identities of your reviewers (­unless they reveal themselves in their reports), your reviewers ­w ill have access to your name and CV, b­ ecause in addition to assessing the content of your submission materials, they ­will also be commenting on your scholarly profile and perceived authority to write the book ­you’re proposing. Reviewers ­will also be asked to comment on their perceptions of the market for your proposed book. The return of the reader reports w ­ ill likely be a big moment of decision for the acquiring editor. ­These are some pos­si­ble scenarios: • The reviews come back largely positive and the editor decides to seek approval from their publisher’s internal committee and editorial board to offer you a contract. • The editor thinks the criticisms in the reader reports are minimal enough that they can be addressed through a response letter from you. The editor has faith that you ­will assure the editorial board that you can fix any significant prob­lems in revision and gain their approval for a contract before another round of review.

Know the Pro­c ess  •  11

• The editor d­ oesn’t think the reader reports are strong enough to get approval for a contract, but they still believe in the proj­ect. They may seek additional reports or ask you to revise the manuscript or proposal and resubmit for a second round of review. • The editor finds the reader reports negative enough that they ­don’t feel comfortable moving forward. In this case, the proj­ect ­will be rejected and you’ll move on to any other presses you may be considering. (You might first decide to revise your proposal based on the reports before submitting to additional publishers, but that’s up to you.) This is a moment for you to make a decision as well. Do you like the direction the editor and reviewers want you to take the manuscript? Are you confident you can address the requested revisions? Have you felt respected and informed throughout the acquisitions pro­cess so far? If you have hesitation about any of t­ hese questions, you may want to communicate it to the editor. A brief phone call can be extraordinarily useful for getting clarity on what your editor honestly thinks of the peer reviews and how the editor envisions the proj­ect moving forward. If you ­aren’t feeling reassured ­after talking to your editor about the reports, you might decide to pull the proj­ect from this press or temporarily put it on hold while you seek responses from other editors and presses. If the acquisitions editor feels confident in your proj­ect and your ability to turn in a satisfactory finished manuscript, they w ­ ill pre­sent the proj­ect to an internal staff committee—­m ade up of editors, marketers, and salespeople—­for approval. The editor’s pre­sen­ta­tion ­will include their calculations about projected profits and losses, based on the expected specifications of the finished book (e.g., length, size, illustrations) and estimated sales. In short, your editor ­will be making the case that your book is a good investment for the press. If the editor’s pre­sen­ta­tion goes well, the editor ­will ­either be approved to offer you an agreement to publish your book or to take your proj­ect to the press’s faculty editorial board for their approval. (Some presses ­don’t need editorial board approval to issue contracts; at ­those presses your proj­ect ­won’t go before the editorial board u­ ntil you submit your full manuscript.) At a university press, the editorial board is made up of faculty from across the institution, most of whom ­won’t be experts in your area, let alone your subject ­matter. Your editor ­w ill be providing the editorial board with sample materials from your book along with the peer reviewers’ reports and your response to the reports, and then making a pre­sen­ta­tion where they defend

12 • Chapter 1

your book’s intellectual soundness, contribution, and fit with the press’s publishing program. Your editor’s enthusiastic support for the proj­ect and capacity to defend it using the information ­you’ve provided in your submission ­w ill count for a lot. Understanding that your editor ­will be making ­these pre­sen­ta­tions about your book is key, ­because your proposal is your chance to give them all the information ­they’ll need to pitch your book successfully when it gets to this stage. I’ll be covering what this information actually is as this guide proceeds. When you receive an offer to publish your book, your editor should be able to explain the publisher’s contract to you and clarify anything you have questions about. If you ­haven’t submitted a full manuscript yet, verify with your editor that the agreement you are being offered—­sometimes known as an advance contract—­represents a firm commitment to publish your book when it is complete, provided your full manuscript wins approval from peer reviewers and the editorial board. You may be able to negotiate on certain aspects of the agreement, but bear in mind that publishing contracts at academic presses tend to be boilerplate and press policy may not leave much latitude to accommodate special author requests. If you d­ on’t like the agreement y­ ou’re offered and ­can’t come to an acceptable compromise with the publisher, you can still pursue your options with other presses. Just be aware that the initial agreement may not be waiting for you if and when you come back. (See chapter 13 for more information about publishing contracts.) In looking over this ­whole pro­cess, it may seem as if the acquisitions editor functions as a gatekeeper who stands between you and your publishing goals. It’s logical to feel that way, but it might be more productive to view editors as they tend to see themselves: as recruiters and brokers who advocate for both authors and readers in order to bring quality scholarship to attentive audiences. Editors want to discover talented authors and put their books u­ nder contract. Editors approach their lists with intellectual vision; t­ hey’re ­eager for new thinkers who ­will help them shape fields and impact readers. Once ­you’ve managed to engage the interest of an editor, they ­will operate as your teammate and your champion within the press, steering your book proj­ect from concept to contract to publication. The teammate t­ hing goes both ways, too: you furnishing your editor with an outstanding proposal helps them do their job well and makes them look good to their colleagues. Now that you understand what ­w ill happen to your proposal when you submit it, ­you’re ready to start homing in on the presses you w ­ ill submit it to. This takes us to the first step in researching and crafting your proposal.

PRESUBMISSION STAGE

(SOMETIMES OPTIONAL)

Project does not move forward.

NO

Does ED think AU’s book is a good fit for their list? Does AU like ED and want to work together?

AU and ED connect in person, by email, or over social media. AU describes project to ED.

YES

SUBMISSION STAGE

YES

ED declines to move forward with the project.

NO

AU pulls the book.

NO

Does AU want to revise and resubmit?

ED asks AU to revise and resubmit, addressing any concerns.

NO

YES

REVIEW STAGE

PRESS MAY REQUIRE EXCLUSIVITY.

ED declines to move forward with the project.

NO

Does ED think another positive reader report could tip the scales?

Does ED feel Does ED think ED sends the project is the submission submitted promising package is materials and a viable YES ready for YES out for peer investment peer review? review. for the press?

AU revises and resubmits to ED.

ED reviews the submitted materials internally, possibly in consultation with series editor and other press staff. ED may request additional materials from AU, up to the full MS.

AU MAY BE TALKING TO MULTIPLE PRESSES AT THIS STAGE. TRANSPARENCY IS EXPECTED.

AU submits proposal package according to press’s instructions.

AU: Author ED: Acquiring Editor MS: Manuscript

: Question : Action : Outcome

THE BOOK IS SIGNED!

CONTRACT STAGE

AU and ED Can AU and ED negotiate YES negotiate. agreeable terms?

NO NO

NO

The book is not signed.

Are the terms of the contract YES agreeable to AU?

Does the editorial board approve offer of contract to AU? YES

NO

Does AU AU writes response Do the reader to reader reports want to reports come including plans to proceed back positive enough that ED YES with this YES address reviewer concerns. ED takes press? feels confident submitted materials, seeking approval NO reader reports, and for a contract? AU's response to AU pulls NO editorial board for the book. approval. YES Does ED still believe in the project?

THE ACQUISITIONS PROCESS, FROM CONTACT TO CONTRACT

ABBREVIATION KEY

14 • Chapter 1

STEP 1: IDENTIFY YOUR TARGET PRESSES

You may have gathered from the above description of the acquisitions pro­cess that when editors decide which proj­ects they are interested in, “fit” with their press’s current and forthcoming offerings is one of the first ­things they look for. That means your most direct route to a publishing deal is pitching to presses and editors that have a reputable list in your subject area. If an editor has no experience working with books like yours, and their press has no experience marketing books like yours, your book simply w ­ on’t be a sensible investment for them. An editor who rejects your proposal based on fit is ­doing you a ­favor, ­because your book ­will reach more of the readers you care about connecting with if you publish with a press that’s known for putting out quality books similar to the one ­you’re writing. ­Because you prob­ably want to get through the acquisitions pro­cess as quickly as pos­si­ble, you can save every­one some time by getting the fit right before you approach publishers. Start by assembling a list of books that are similar to your proj­ect in topic or readership. This list should primarily include books that ­were published in the last few years; publishing programs change and editors move around, so a press that was putting out similar books five or more years ago may not be the right press for you ­today. The bibliography of your manuscript is a ­great place to start looking for similar titles, but you ­don’t have to limit yourself to books that you cite directly. Once ­you’ve collected a list of a dozen or so titles, you should see the names of a few publishers coming up again and again. ­There are a few additional methods you can use to identify presses that could be a good fit for your work. For instance, to identify presses that are putting out books that garner significant attention in your field, you can consult recent book reviews in the major journals that are relevant to your work. A published review means that both a reviewer and an editorial team at the journal have de­cided a book is worth knowing about. Which publishers regularly get their books reviewed in the journals you re­spect? It’s also worth considering presses that have a track rec­ord of putting out books that win awards and prizes in your field. While it’s nice to believe that books receive recognition based purely on their quality and contributions to scholarship, publicity also has something to do with it, ­because awards committees d­ on’t give recognition to books ­they’ve never heard of. If books from certain publishers tend to rack up awards, that tells you something about the promotion efforts of t­ hose presses, including t­ hings like making sure gratis copies get sent to awards committees for consideration. To identify presses

Know the Pro­c ess  •  15

that are both putting out books of high quality and getting t­ hose books recognized for their quality, look up the book prizes given out by scholarly associations or other organ­izations in your field and adjacent fields over the past few years. Which publishers have a track rec­ord of putting out award-­w inning books? Another way to identify appropriate target presses is to think about books that might be taught alongside yours in college courses. You can consult a­ ctual syllabi—­ask your colleagues or just do a web search—­for topical courses that could hypothetically include your book. What books are getting assigned in ­those kinds of courses, and who publishes them? Fi­nally, you can use your professional networks to identify new and forthcoming books by scholars you re­spect. Networks to consider: your contacts on social media, your grad school cohort, your current colleagues, co-­panelists and co-­contributors to edited collections, and scholars you’d love to have review or blurb your book. Assuming the p­ eople in your networks work in similar fields to you, looking at who they are publishing with can help you narrow your own list. You can also ask friends about their experiences with their editor and press when it comes time to evaluate your target presses. Find out if the authors felt they w ­ ere treated fairly and supportively during the pro­cess and ­whether they are happy with how their books turned out. You can add any books and presses you discover using ­these methods to your master list of similar books. And keep this list close by, ­because it ­w ill come in handy when you actually make your pitch. One of the first questions acquiring editors ask when they learn about a new proj­ect is how it compares with existing books. You’ll even devote a ­whole section of your proposal to answering this question, as you’ll see in chapter 3. STEP 2: RESEARCH AND EVALUATE YOUR TARGET PRESSES

Once y­ ou’ve completed step 1, you should be able to pick out a handful of publishers that come up repeatedly across your lists. Your book ­will hopefully fit in well enough at any of ­those presses. But you also need to determine ­whether other aspects of the presses make them the right fit, not just for your book but for you and your goals. I suggest evaluating each of the presses ­you’re considering by asking yourself the following questions: • Do ­people who have published with the editor and press speak well of the experience? • Do the press’s books seem well designed, with attractive covers and high production values that ­will appeal to readers?

16 • Chapter 1

• Is it easy to find information online about the press’s books, such as synopses, endorsements, and ­tables of contents? • Do the press’s books have a reasonable price point? (If they only sell books in $100 hardcover formats, ­they’re only planning to sell to libraries. This might work for you or not.) • Does the press seem to actively promote its books and authors? (Check the publisher’s social media accounts if you like.) • Do you recognize the titles and authors of their recently published books? Are they peers you would be excited to be counted among? Would you be proud to tell ­people that ­you’re publishing your book with this press when it comes time to do your own promotion? • Does the press have a demonstrated commitment to publishing and actively promoting authors from historically underrepresented groups, as evidenced by its recent roster of authors? If the press is known for publishing work on oppressed and marginalized groups, has it signed authors from ­those groups to write ­those books?1 • Does the press have a public code of conduct or mission statement in place that indicates its commitment to treating authors with justice and re­spect? • Do your se­nior colleagues feel this is a reputable press in your field? (This only applies if you care what your se­nior colleagues think, which may depend on your ­career plans and goals for promotion.) • Have you felt that the staff has treated you well and that the acquiring editor you’d be working with fully understands and supports your proj­ect, if ­you’ve had any contact with them yet? You can weight ­these items as you see fit, based on what’s most impor­tant to you. Once y­ ou’ve researched a few presses, you can rank them based on how well they match your own criteria. This ­will help you determine the order in which you want to submit your materials to each press. 1. I credit Professor Cutcha Risling Baldy for inspiring this item on the evaluation checklist. In her June 15, 2020 plenary address to the annual meeting of the Association of University Presses, titled “Give It Back: Publishing and Native Sovereignty,” Risling Baldy noted that even presses that publish scholarship about Indigenous ­peoples may have reputations for publishing White academics who write about Indigenous p­ eoples, rather than publishing the voices of Indigenous writers themselves. The full text and video of Risling Baldy’s address can be found on her website at http://­www​.­cutcharislingbaldy​.­com​/­blog​/­dr​-­cutcha​-­risling​-­baldy​-­opening​ -­plenary​-­give​-­it​-­back​-­publishing​-­and​-­native​-­sovereignty​-­at​-­the​-­association​-­of​-­university​ -­presses​-­conference​-­or​-­in​-­which​-­i​-­remind​-­everyone​-­that​-­andrew​-­jackson​-­can​-­go​-­f​-­himself.

Know the Pro­c ess  •  17

STEP 3: GATHER SUBMISSION INFORMATION FOR YOUR TARGET PRESSES AND SUMMARIZE YOUR BOOK’S FIT

When ­you’ve got a short list of well-­fitting presses y­ ou’ve de­cided to target, you can set yourself up for success in your submissions by ­doing a l­ ittle more homework on each one. Go to each publisher’s website and find their submission requirements for book proposals. This is usually u­ nder “Information for Authors” or a similar menu item. Note the list of materials they require. You can also familiarize yourself with key staff at the press. This might include acquisitions editors and series editors in your field as well as publicity and marketing folks. Checking out their profiles on the press’s website or following them on social media can help you gain insight into the press’s identity and what they are looking for in books to publish. Fi­nally, for each press on your short list, you can write up a paragraph that summarizes why your book ­will be a good fit with their publishing program. You’ll draw on ­these draft summaries ­later when it comes time to write your cover letter and assem­ble your proposal for submission, ­because you’ll be tailoring your submission for each press you target. ­Here are some example sentences to get you started if y­ ou’re not sure what to put in your summary of publisher fit: “I’ve long been impressed with the MIT Press’s rec­ord of publishing books at the cutting edge of science and technology studies. My book advances the field of STS by bringing a critical, ethnographically grounded view to the ways new technologies enchant users and funders while, in fact, reinforcing existing relations of power.” “Stanford University Press’s demonstrated strengths in the areas of ­Middle Eastern studies and literary studies make it an ideal home for my book, which lies at the intersection of ­these fields.” “I believe the University of California Press’s California Studies in Food and Culture series would be a fitting home for my book. Like many other books in the series, my proj­ect focuses on relationships between food, time, and place. My book stands out for its global and comparative approach to the study of con­temporary heritage food movements.” “Prince­ton University Press’s track rec­ord of publishing public-­facing books on current topics in the field of economics is appealing to me ­because I believe my book ­will interest readers beyond the acad­emy.”

18 • Chapter 1

Time-­Tested Tips Make Your Work Findable

You might be surprised at the number of signed books that begin not with an unsolicited proposal submission from author to editor, but rather with an editor seeking out a potential author to show interest in their work. If you’d like to find yourself in the latter situation, it’s impor­tant that you start thinking about making your research findable, especially your current, unsigned book proj­ect if you have one. Give as many public pre­sen­ta­tions on your topic as you can, and think about search engine optimization (SEO) when ­you’re coming up with pre­sen­ta­tion titles. You want your name and proj­ect to come up if an acquiring editor goes looking on a search engine or in a conference cata­log to find out who’s working on a specific topic. Some acquiring editors are active on social media, so talk about your work ­there too. An editor can tell a lot about what a writer knows and how t­ hey’re able to engage audiences from their online posts. If you find yourself the recipient of a flattering message from an editor, know that you’ll still have to write up a proposal in order to get your book published. But you should also pat yourself on the back for your efforts to make your work known. An approach from one editor may indicate that other editors ­will also show interest when you approach them yourself. Use the AUP Subject Area Grid as a Starting Point for Finding Publishers

The Association of University Presses Subject Area Grid (which you can find on the Association of University Presses website) is useful for finding out w ­ hether a press identifies itself as publishing books on a specific subject. Understand that the grid does not differentiate by strength of the presses’ offerings in that subject, prestige of presses, or scope of the presses’ marketing efforts. And, of course, it includes primarily UPs, though some other not-­for-­profit presses are listed in the AUP directory as “associate presses.” The grid can be a useful starting point to generate an initial long list of presses, if you truly have no clue where you might want to publish. The methods I recommended in step 1 w ­ ill help you efficiently narrow your list to a targeted few publishers. Focus on What Makes Your Book a Good Fit

When you write up your paragraph on why your book is a fit for a specific press, note that this i­ sn’t a paragraph on why you want to publish with that press, exactly. You d­ on’t need to engage in flattery or talk about all the general

Know the Pro­c ess  •  19

reasons it’s an attractive press, ­because the editor already knows ­these. You do need to give concrete information about your book that ­will persuade an editor that you ­haven’t just stumbled upon their press at random. Keep the focus on providing details about your book that w ­ ill be intriguing to the editor in light of the books t­ hey’ve already worked on. If you c­ an’t come up with anything, it might tell you that this press ­isn’t a good fit a­ fter all, or that you need to do more research about the press to find material for this paragraph. Frequently Asked Questions As an Academic Author, Do I Have to Publish My Book with a University Press?

­ ere are multiple types of presses that publish scholarly books. As you conTh sider potential publishers it w ­ ill be impor­tant to pay attention to what kinds of publishers y­ ou’re looking at, b­ ecause the distinctions between dif­fer­ent kinds of scholarly publishers may be pertinent for your personal goals regarding your readership and c­ areer. UPs operate on a not-­for-­profit basis with a mission to “serv[e] the public good by generating and disseminating knowledge,” according to the Association of University Presses.2 Nearly all proposals and manuscripts submitted to UPs undergo rigorous peer review, and the imprimatur of a university press tends to carry the most prestige within the walls of the acad­emy (in the United States at least). Besides UPs, you may also be considering commercial academic publishers such as Routledge, Bloomsbury, Rowman and Littlefield, and o­ thers. Th ­ ese presses also put scholarly manuscripts through peer review and expect that submissions make a significant contribution to knowledge. If you intend to write your book primarily for other scholars, UPs and commercial academic presses are both fair options (though I still recommend you subject any press you are considering within ­these categories to the evaluation questions in step 2 to make sure they meet your specific needs). ­There are still other types of presses that publish serious nonfiction written by scholars. In­de­pen­dent publishers such as the New Press, Beacon Books, Verso, and Polity often publish such work ­after subjecting it to some form of peer review. Some of ­these presses hold not-­for-­profit status and carry missions to serve the public good, similarly to university presses. Larger trade ­houses (or their imprints) also sometimes publish books by scholars, if they 2. “About University Presses,” Association of University Presses website, accessed February 17, 2020, http://­aupresses​.­org​/­about​-­aaup​/­about​-­university​-­presses.

20 • Chapter 1

are written to appeal to broad enough audiences. The acquisitions pro­cess for trade publishing differs somewhat from what I outlined in this chapter, and peer review is not a standard step of the pro­cess. This may affect ­whether a trade press is an appropriate fit for your professional goals. If you see a lot of titles from nonacademic publishers on your list of similar books, take a minute to consider your goals. If what you ­really want to do is write a nonfiction book for a market that extends well beyond the acad­emy, a trade press might be an optimal way to go. You may also be able to publish a successful crossover title with a university press or in­de­pen­dent publisher. Crossover books are defined by their ability to cross over from one core audience to another, perhaps less expected audience. In the case of scholarly books, “crossover” usually means crossing over from academic readers to a readership outside the acad­emy. If a scholarly press believes that a book could have high sales potential among nonacademic readers, they may decide to publish it as a trade title. “Trade” h­ ere simply means that the book w ­ ill be sold by the publisher to bookstores and other retailers at a certain discount, in the interest of getting the book placed in front of a wide array of potential consumers. Trade titles may also be packaged somewhat differently than academic titles in order to appeal to retail consumers. ­Don’t assume that a university press or a small in­de­pen­dent press w ­ ill be less effective than a big commercial h­ ouse at reaching your target readers; in fact, more niche presses can be better at targeting certain audiences b­ ecause they know their market so well. However, if ­you’re set on getting a mainstream commercial publisher to sign your book, be aware that you ­will likely need to query literary agents and get one to represent you rather than tackling the submission pro­cess by yourself.3 Do I Need a Literary Agent in Order to Get Published by an Academic Press?

A university press or a commercial academic press w ­ on’t expect or require you to have an agent. Are t­ here situations in which an agent can be helpful? Sure. An agent who agrees to represent you may give you productive feedback on your proposal before you submit it to editors, and they can help you negotiate the terms of your contract with your publisher. If you think you have a very 3. To learn more about working with literary agents, I recommend Jane Friedman’s resources, including ­those on her website, janefriedman​.­com, and in her book, The Business of Being a Writer.

Know the Pro­c ess  •  21

marketable manuscript on your hands that w ­ ill sell a lot of copies (like, thousands, not hundreds) and might therefore receive offers from multiple presses, you might find an agent helpful for fielding t­ hose offers. If you think your book has the potential to sell well outside of the academic world, an agent can also help you develop the proj­ect in a trade direction and find the right publisher, which may well be a trade press rather than an academic one. Querying agents with your proposal is not much dif­fer­ent from querying editors directly; it just adds an extra step or two (and perhaps several months) to the pro­cess. Agents work on commission, which is what can make finding an agent for a scholarly book tricky. Fifteen ­percent of the typical advance from a university press is usually a vanishingly small amount, so the agent ­will have to see something special in your proj­ect or your long-­term writing c­ areer to make representing you worth their while. Agents are accustomed to dealing with commercial presses, so if you are set on publishing with a university press (for reasons of ­career or readership), you ­will want to make sure your agent understands and re­spects that before they take your book out on submission to editors. Are All University Presses Basically the Same?

Even within the category of university presses, ­there is much variation in terms of size and style of operation. The very big UPs like Oxford and Cambridge publish so many titles that they may resemble commercial academic publishers more so than other university presses. The other larger UPs publish a mix of academic and trade titles, so they could be a good fit if you want to write a crossover book that ­w ill appeal to both scholars and some mainstream audiences. Smaller UPs often have par­tic­u­lar specialties and series ­they’re known for, so they may be the perfect home for your book if the fit is strong. It’s pos­si­ble (though not guaranteed) that you’ll receive more personal attention from editorial and marketing staff at a smaller press. Only you can decide which press has the right mix of attributes to suit your publishing goals. How Can I Identify the Right Presses When My Book ­D oesn’t Fit Neatly into Established Fields or Subject ­M atter Categories?

Choose presses that are known for publishing weird or innovative books. Or think more broadly in terms of your field or subject m ­ atter. For example, instead of a very niche field like “Anarchist Studies,” in which t­ here are few active

22 • Chapter 1

presses, think “Social Movement Studies” or “Politics and Culture,” in which ­there are many more options. My Book Is Particularly Theoretical, Po­l iti­c al, Illustration-­H eavy, or Some Other Characteristic That Feels Dif­f er­e nt from the Norms of the Scholarly Books I’ve Seen. How Can I Find a Press That ­W ill Publish It?

My answer ­here is similar to the question above. The key is to find the presses that publish books that are quirky in the same way your book is quirky. Know that if your book is so quirky that no other books like it exist at all, you may have a hard time convincing any publisher that it’s a ­viable book idea. How Do I Find a Press That W ­ ill Support the Digital, Multimedia Components I Envision for My Book?

The answer is, again, to identify the books that have similar components to the ones you envision your book having and see who published t­ hose books. Several presses have digital platforms on which they publish multimedia or interactive editions of certain titles. The University of Minnesota Press’s Manifold Scholarship platform is just one example; other presses partner with digital publishing platforms such as Fulcrum or PubPub. Even if a press ­you’re interested in d­ oesn’t have a formal partnership with a digital publishing platform, it is often pos­si­ble to host digital material on your own website that you reference within the print book (as I have done for this book at bookproposalbook​ .­com). When it comes time to pitch your book to the presses you identify, you’ll want to explain how the digital components you are planning to include ­will enhance your book for your target readers. Should I Be Looking for Publishers Who Offer Open Access Options for Their Books?

The open access (OA) issue is complicated and t­ here are many dif­fer­ent opinions about it among writers and publishers. Some publishers are able to make open access work (usually through grants or other funding streams) but many simply cannot afford to do it b­ ecause of the belief that open access w ­ ill reduce the return publishers are able to make on the investment of producing your book. Producing the physical object of your book is only a fraction of the total production cost for the publisher; “­free” digital editions ­aren’t at all ­free on the publisher’s side. If you have your own source of funding to help make your book freely available to readers, you should mention that in your proposal so

Know the Pro­c ess  •  23

your target publisher is aware that this ave­nue is of interest to you. You should also be prepared to explain why open access is impor­tant for your book in par­tic­u­lar, that is, why the specific audiences you are hoping to attract ­will be best reached via open access publication.4 What Are the Advantages of Publishing with a Series?

Publishing in a series can be helpful ­because it aligns your books with ­others in a way that may raise the profile of your book within your field. Series editors sometimes provide more hands-on guidance than you might other­w ise receive on your manuscript. And the support of a series editor can help you with the publisher if they are iffy about w ­ hether to offer you a contract. That said, not all series work the same way, so do some research before assuming that a series w ­ ill bring t­ hese advantages for you. I recommend asking authors who have previously published with the series y­ ou’re interested in to see what their experiences have been.5 Why Do I Need to Narrow My List to a Few Presses? Why Not Just Send Proposals to ­E very Press on My Long List at Once?

You’ll find it easier to manage the submission pro­cess if y­ ou’re only dealing with a handful of presses at a time. While it’s usually fine to submit proposals to multiple publishers si­mul­ta­neously, you may encounter a situation in which one of your target presses is interested but requests exclusivity while they send the proj­ect out for peer review. This means you’ll have to contact all the other presses you submitted to and e­ ither pull the proposal from them (temporarily) or push them for a response to your submission before you decide to grant exclusivity to the first press. That could work to your advantage if you want to motivate interest from a more desirable press, but mostly it’ll just mean a lot of emails you’ll have to send. And what w ­ ill you do if ­you’re still waiting to hear from your top press, but your ­fourteenth choice wants to send your materials out for exclusive review right away?

4. For further discussion of open access publishing for scholarly books, see this helpful interview by Yelena Kalinsky with Charles Watkinson, director of the University of Michigan Press: https://­n etworks​ .­h​ -­n et​ .­o rg​ /­n ode​ /­1883​ /­d iscussions​ /­6 170634​ /­i nterview​ -­c harles​ -­watkinson​-­director​-­university​-­michigan​-­press. 5. See Herr, Writing and Publishing Your Book, 35–6, for several more considerations related to publishing your book with a series.

24 • Chapter 1

I recommend sending the proposal out in small batches of publishers, moving down your list in terms of desirability. Aim high with your first c­ ouple of submissions. If your dream press passes—or proves unresponsive—­you can always try other presses on your list. If an editor shows interest in seeing more, it means they can see themselves publishing your book and are beginning to be invested in its success. You w ­ ill know pretty quickly w ­ hether y­ ou’ve got a decent shot with a press or not. (­There’s much more on how to manage submissions and responses or nonresponses from editors in chapter 12.) An Editor Approached Me Saying They Are Trying to Build a New List or Series in My Subject Area, but Their Press ­H asn’t Published Any Books Similar to Mine Yet. Should I Consider Their Press?

It depends on the press and on your goals for your book. If it’s a press that might be less well known or impressive to scholars in your field, consider how impor­tant press reputation is to your goals for your book. If the job market or tenure are of concern for you, keep in mind that it may be several years before the new list builds a reputation in your area, and, in the meantime, search committees and tenure reviewers may won­der why you ­didn’t publish with a “better” press in your field. If an established reputation is less impor­tant to you, and the editor can assure you that the press knows how to get your book in front of the ­people you care about reaching with it, helping to set a new direction for a press can be a ­great ­thing. Your editor and press may be particularly invested in promoting your book and seeing it succeed, and you may get more attention than you would on a more established list. I’ve Heard That Reputable Publishers ­D on’t Publish Dissertations. Should I Be Wary If an Editor Approaches Me about Publishing My Dissertation as a Book?

It depends on the press and on what the editor means by “publishing your dissertation.” It’s not unheard of for editors at prestigious university presses to seek out promising scholars and try to sign their f­ uture books before their dissertations are finished or very soon ­after completion. But I would caution you to carefully consider before you commit to any publisher so early. Your proj­ect, goals, and criteria may change by the time ­you’re fi­nally ready to pitch your book proj­ect, and the editor who wants to sign you may leave or retire in the interim between offering you a contract and seeing your book through publication. If your topic and approach are so attractive that editors are already expecting to compete for your book—­that’s why ­they’re trying to pin you

Know the Pro­c ess  •  25

down now, by the way—­you may want to think about seeking a literary agent so you can get the best pos­si­ble deal for yourself down the road. If you find yourself in this situation, get more information before you make a decision e­ ither way. Is the editor truly willing to accept an unrevised dissertation? If so, that is a red flag, and I’m willing to bet their press ­wouldn’t make it very far when subjected to my checklist questions in step 2. You may think that having a book—­any book—is sufficient to meet your ­career goals, but try to take a long view. If ­you’re in an academic position, it may be that your current dean or chair said you just need a book for tenure and it ­doesn’t ­matter who publishes it. But what if you want to change institutions? W ­ ill it m ­ atter elsewhere? It might be tempting to go with a press that ­will seemingly take your diss as-is, but it might not be the right long-­term strategy for your ­career. When Is a Good Time to First Approach a Publisher I’m Interested In?

It depends on what kind of approach ­we’re talking about. I ­don’t think it’s ever too early for an informal chat with an acquisitions editor in person or over the phone, ­because that allows both of you to get a general sense of ­whether you might like working together, and the editor can give you some encouragement in the direction they might be most interested in seeing your book go. As for sending a formal query letter, I would only do this when your book has a clear identity and ­you’re just about ready to send a complete proposal package (even if the manuscript ­isn’t fully written yet). If an editor expresses interest in your proj­ect based on your letter of inquiry, you want to be able to follow up with a proposal while t­ hey’re still on the hook. If you think you are more than a year or two from having the entire manuscript written, you should prob­ably wait before making formal contact about the proj­ect, such as submitting a full proposal. (See chapter 12 for more discussion of timelines and connecting with editors.) Do My Proj­e ct and Proposal Have to Be Perfect to Have a Chance at Connecting with an Acquiring Editor?

You d­ on’t have to be perfect, you just have to be a willing collaborator. While it can feel like editors are gatekeepers who just want to find reasons not to publish your book, that’s not always the case. Editors need to find books to sign that ­will bring readers to their presses. Their jobs literally depend upon it, as do their visions for the f­ uture of their lists. Make the best case you can that your book w ­ ill help them do their jobs, and editors ­will want to say yes to you.

26 • Chapter 1

An editor may have suggestions for improving the proj­ect or proposal, but that’s just part of the work. The rest of this guide w ­ ill give you the tools to show that y­ ou’re ready and able to collaborate with a scholarly publisher to bring your expert knowledge to readers. It might surprise you to learn just how frequently editors receive proposal submissions that seem entirely random and unsuited to their press and areas of acquisition. You ­will be way ahead of the curve compared to t­ hose who a­ ren’t taking the time to read up and prepare, even if you fear you d­ on’t have the perfect proposal. Read on, and d­ on’t worry—­you’ve got this.

2

Write for Publication What Presses Value in Your Scholarly Book Proj­e ct

Your proposal package ­will include many ele­ments, which I’ll be detailing for you in the upcoming chapters of this book. This chapter offers a holistic view of the impression you are crafting for acquisitions editors and o­ thers who need to be “sold” on your book before it w ­ ill be published. In order to put out a book, a publisher has to invest a lot of resources, including, but not ­limited to money, l­ abor, and time. An editor who reads your proposal has to feel that your proj­ect is worth investing in before they ­will start devoting their own time and ­labor to conducting your proj­ect through the acquisitions pipeline (described in chapter 1). As it travels through that pipeline, your proposal must convey to editors, designers, marketers, salespeople, and publicity staff the full value that your book manuscript holds for the readers with whom ­those publishing staff ­will eventually help you connect. Broadly speaking, you can demonstrate the value of your book by showing that it ­will (1) make a substantial intellectual contribution to a scholarly field; and (2) attract a sizable number of readers. The exact size of that sizable number can vary a lot from book to book and press to press. While university presses are not profit-­seeking, they ­don’t want to lose money on the majority of books they publish. Reductions in university library bud­gets mean that publishers can no longer rely on the revenue from institutional standing o­ rders to cover the cost of producing scholarly books. Scholarly publishers are u­ nder pressure to better publicize and market their books to generate direct sales among a targeted group of readers themselves. Publishers ­w ill therefore be hoping that you and your manuscript can command an audience large enough to justify the press’s spending tens of thousands of dollars to produce the book.1 Your proposal must inspire confidence on this point. 1. A 2016 study on the costs of publishing monographs found that average costs to publish a high-­quality digital monograph at a university press ranged from $30,000 to $50,000. See Maron, Mulhern, Rossman, and Schmelzinger, “The Costs of Publishing Monographs.”

27

28 • Chapter 2

The broad demands of contribution and audience dictate specific t­ hings editors w ­ ill want to see in your proj­ect when you pitch it to them. I’ll be talking about each of ­these items in more concrete terms in ­later chapters of this guide, but for now, h­ ere are some general princi­p les that guide editorial acquisitions: • Editors want books with strong and compelling arguments. A strong argument can push a field in new directions, thus making a clear intellectual contribution and burnishing the press’s overall reputation in that area. • Editors want books whose authors have both the credentials to produce sound scholarship and the capacity to attract readers to their work. • Editors want books whose findings ­matter. Findings with clear significance in the real world motivate readers to read (and purchase) books. • Editors want books whose topics draw readers in through relevance to their scholarship and lives. • Editors want books that have unique or outstanding qualities. Books that improve on what’s already out t­ here are poised to be competitive in the marketplace. At the same time, editors want books that are legible within existing genres so that they can efficiently find their audiences. • Editors want books whose authors have put thought and effort into making them readable by and in­ter­est­ing to a broader audience than a dissertation committee. An unrevised dissertation is unlikely to fit this description.2 To sum up ­these points into some ­simple takeaways: make sure that your proposal materials clearly convey your book’s argument and the stakes of that argument; show how your book’s topic is appealing and whom it ­will appeal to; and demonstrate your own authority and ability to reach readers, including with your writing style. Scholarly authors often believe they need to impress editors with how intellectually rigorous their proj­ect is and to prove that they are “filling a gap in the lit­er­a­ture.” This ­isn’t actually true, but I understand why you might be thinking 2. ­There are a number of guides aimed at scholars seeking to revise their dissertations as publishable books. I recommend Beth Luey’s Revising Your Dissertation, Eleanor Hartman et al.’s The Thesis and the Book, and William Germano’s From Dissertation to Book. All are included in “Suggestions for Further Reading” at the back of this book.

Write for Publication  •  29

this way. Most of your previous experiences presenting, explaining, and justifying your work in the acad­emy have been ­shaped by ­those questions of rigor and originality. If ­you’re a first-­time author, your dissertation defense may be a fresh memory, and it’s easy to feel like the ways you framed your work for your committee would be helpful in framing your work for acquiring editors. If ­you’ve published in journals, you may be accustomed to editors and reviewers expecting you to explain the gap your research fills. The ­people who acquire scholarly books care about somewhat dif­fer­ent ­things than dissertation supervisors and journal editors. A book editor’s job, above all, is to connect writers with readers. When an acquiring editor learns about your book proj­ect, they are immediately thinking about ­whether other ­people ­will care about your topic and the approach ­you’re taking to it. ­They’re prob­ably ­going to assume that your research was rigorous and that ­you’ve done all the relevant reading, which means you d­ on’t need to belabor the issue in your proposal itself. Put your efforts t­ oward clearly articulating your own original argument, b­ ecause a strong argument can be easily communicated in promotion materials for the book and w ­ ill drive readers to it. If you can go even further and show how your research m ­ atters to real p­ eople, an editor ­w ill easily be able to imagine the readers who ­w ill care about your findings. “But i­sn’t ­there room to do it all in my proposal?” you might ask. “­Can’t I talk about theory and methodology and the lit­er­a­ture and convey a strong argument with clear stakes?” Yes, you may be able to do that. But I’ve found that most authors who get bogged down in the weeds of theory, methodology, and lit­er­a­ture in their proposals are writing from a defensive place. Th ­ ey’re still writing for their committee, the department they hope w ­ ill hire them, or the expert readers ­they’re afraid ­will poke a million holes in their work. That’s not a pleasant place to be writing from (I can say so from personal experience), and it’s certainly not a pleasant place to read from. Write your proposal—­and your book—­with a dif­fer­ent kind of reader in mind: an intelligent person who wants to hear what you, specifically, have to say about an in­ter­est­ing topic. This describes most p­ eople who work at scholarly presses, by the way. If you write your proposal for this kind of reader, your writing ­will flow more naturally, the material ­will become more lively, and an editor w ­ ill be able to see how you’ll write for the p­ eople who ­will one day buy your book. Ideally, t­ here’ll be a lot more of t­ hose readers than the number of ­people who sat on your dissertation committee or even the number of ­people who happen to be experts on your topic. Y ­ ou’re not writing just for t­ hose ­people anymore. Enjoy it!

30 • Chapter 2

STEP 4: GENERATE RAW MATERIAL FOR YOUR PROPOSAL PACKAGE

As you complete the steps in this handbook, you’ll be assembling all the ele­ ments you’ll need to pitch your book to a scholarly publisher. Before we get too far into drafting the prospectus itself, it ­will be helpful to generate some raw material describing your proj­ect that you’ll be able to mine when it comes time to put together the a­ ctual proposal. You might have some of this material written down somewhere already, if y­ ou’ve applied for jobs or research grants that required you to summarize your scholarship. Make a new file and copy any of your good material into it. You can also add a few sentences that answer each of the following questions: • What made you interested in writing about this topic in the first place? • What ­people, places, and ­things do you describe in the book? • Why do your research findings ­matter? • Who should read this book? How ­will they benefit from ­doing so? • What’s the main ­thing you want readers to understand when ­they’re done with your book? • How did you conduct the research for this book? • What does this book add to current scholarly conversations or even conversations happening beyond the acad­emy? • What makes this book special? • Why are you the right person to write this book? • What’s the most in­ter­est­ing story from your research? Why is it in­ter­est­ing? You might have noticed that ­these questions are aimed at getting you to articulate the aspects of your book that editors w ­ ill find appealing, as discussed in this chapter. It’s good to start thinking about that now, but ­don’t get too far ahead of yourself yet. This file is not supposed to be any kind of polished draft that you ­will show to anyone. It’s literally just raw material that you can copy and paste elsewhere when you need it ­later. STEP 5: DRAFT A LETTER OF INQUIRY TO INTRODUCE YOUR PROJ­E CT TO EDITORS

Now that you understand what editors are looking for in new book proj­ects, you’ll be able to highlight the aspects of your book that w ­ ill be most appealing to the ­people who make publication decisions. You’ll be taking this perspective into the entire proposal, but I suggest you start by drafting a letter of inquiry that succinctly articulates the qualities of your book that w ­ ill best con-

Write for Publication  •  31

nect with editors.3 Think of this letter as the start of a conversation. It’s not just a pro forma chore you have to get out of the way; try to see it as an opportunity to connect with a potential collaborator whom you’d like to get to know better. You may end up sending a letter like this to initiate contact with an editor well before you submit a proposal, or you may use it more like a cover letter with your submission. You can pick one editor and press to focus on for now. ­Later, you can change the publisher-­specific information as needed, if you end up sending inquiries to multiple presses. (I’ll be talking more about reaching out to editors and ­whether you should send a full proposal along with your inquiry in chapter 12. For now, just focus on drafting the letter.) To assist you in covering all the key information editors w ­ ill be looking for, I’m ­going to give you a template for your letter. I’ll also provide some sample sentences, which you can alter and build your own letter around. You d­ on’t have to follow a template or imitate a sample in order to be successful with publishers. Templates and samples are mere tools that you can use when you have no idea where to start or when you have an existing draft that ­isn’t working. If you do end up following my templates, you might won­der ­whether your letter, or indeed your w ­ hole proposal, ­w ill feel too formulaic in structure. ­Don’t worry about that. Employing a clear and expected structure in your submission materials allows your unique content and voice to shine through all the more clearly. The Template for Your Letter of Inquiry

1. Start with a salutation. If you d­ on’t have a prior acquaintance with the editor, plan to address them by their full name as listed on the publisher’s website. (I suggest full names instead of honorifics such as Dr., Mr., or Ms., ­because ­there’s less chance of your mistitling or misgendering someone.) If ­you’ve met the editor before, you can briefly remind them of your past interaction. If y­ ou’re writing on the recommendation of another scholar or editor you can mention that up front too. State your purpose for writing as soon as pos­si­ble. • “Dear [editor’s name],” • “I enjoyed our conversation [when/where], when we discussed my proj­ect on [what].” 3. I credit Melody Herr with the suggestion to start the proposal-­drafting pro­cess with a cover letter in Writing and Publishing Your Book, 18.

32 • Chapter 2

• “My colleague [who] recommended that I reach out to you.” • “I am writing to submit a proposal for my book, [working title].” 2. Then get the book’s topic, approach, and thesis out ­there right away. • “In this book I use [which methods] to study [what topic].” • “My research brings [what kind of] approach to the study of [what topic].” • “My book examines [what issue] through the lens of [which archive].” • “In my book, I argue that . . .” • “My research demonstrates that . . .” • “My proj­ect is driven by the idea that . . .” 3. You can follow ­these introductory remarks by expanding briefly on the book’s contents and contribution. H ­ ere’s where you can describe your research design—if you draw on field work, archival material, textual analy­sis, etc.—­ and flesh out the argument a bit. You might describe the arc of the book—­how you get from the introduction to the conclusion—in a sentence or two. • “I conducted fieldwork over [how many] years [where].” • “Drawing on material from [which sources], I make the case that . . .” • “Based on analy­sis of [which texts], I trace [what phenomenon] over [which time period] to suggest . . .” • “Using a comparative analy­sis of [what phenomenon] in [which regions, texts, or time periods], I show . . .” • “I build the book’s argument across three case studies that all illustrate . . .” 4. Next, you can get into why your findings ­will ­matter to readers. You can also mention other features that make the book topical and relevant to your primary audiences. Name which audiences ­those are, too. (I’ll be covering audiences and how to articulate them in chapter 4, but take a crack at it now. You can revise ­later.) • “The book’s exploration of [what topic] ­will interest readers in [which fields].” • “­Because of my par­tic­u­lar approach to studying [what topic], scholars and instructors of [what subject ­matter] ­will want to purchase this book.” • “My research for this book has already gained the attention of [which types of readers], as evidenced by . . .”

Write for Publication  •  33

5. You can also include a paragraph about fit that is tailored to each press you target. Remember to focus on reasons why this press might want to publish your book, not reasons why you need the press to publish your book. ­Don’t forget to change this out with each submission. • “I believe [book’s title] ­will be of interest to [name of press] based on the press’s strong rec­ord of publication in the area of [field].” • “[Name of press’s] reputation among scholars of [field] make it a fitting home for my book on [topic related to field].” • “My proj­ect’s critical engagement with questions of [what] makes it a solid fit with the [name of press’s] series, [name of series], which is seeking books on . . .” 6. Then offer a brief summary of your credentials and description of the state of the manuscript. • “I am currently employed as [position] at [institution].” • “I completed my doctoral work in [field] at [institution] in [year].” • “I have published articles on [book’s topic] in [names of journals]. My book ­will draw on some of that material but it ­will be substantially reframed.” • “I’m frequently asked to comment on issues of [book’s topic], in venues such as [names of outlets].” • “My first book, [title], was published with [name of publisher] in [year]. • “The manuscript is X% complete. I expect to have the full manuscript ready for your review by [month and year].” 7. Your closing can seek more information, indicate ­whether this is a simultaneous submission, and express your gratitude for their time. Be clear about what you are asking or offering. • “Would you be interested in receiving a formal proposal for this proj­ect?” • “I am enclosing a prospectus, CV, and one sample chapter. I have X additional chapters available for review at this time.” • “At this point, I am submitting proposals to multiple presses.” • “I am submitting this proposal exclusively to your press at this time.” • “I look forward to hearing your thoughts on ­whether my proj­ect is a good fit for your publishing program at this time.” • “Thank you for considering my submission.”

34 • Chapter 2

To see what a real letter of inquiry might look like, refer to the full sample letter provided t­ oward the back of this book. You d­ on’t have to send your letter to an a­ ctual editor yet. And you can come back and revise the contents of the letter as you work through this guide and refine the other components of your proposal (such as your thesis statement). But having this document drafted in some form now should help you build momentum for every­thing ­else you need to do before you pitch your book. Time-­Tested Tips Keep Your Letter of Inquiry Short, but Thorough

­ ecause the purpose of your letter of inquiry is to get the editor to seriously B consider your proposal itself, the letter d­ oesn’t need to be too long. A page, single-­spaced, is fine. (You’ll see that the sample letter of inquiry included ­toward the back of this book is just a few paragraphs in length.) While some editors ­won’t object to a longer description of the proj­ect in the initial letter, it’s safest not to try anyone’s patience. But ­don’t be too brief. Make sure ­you’re including all the information needed to establish that you have the kind of book scholarly acquisitions editors are interested in, as outlined ­earlier in this chapter. Frequently Asked Questions ­W ill Having the First Book on My Topic Give Me an Edge with Publishers?

Claiming to be the first book on a given topic is a common book proposal trope that ­doesn’t impress acquiring editors as much as authors think it does. Authors can be forgiven for thinking firstness is a selling point, b­ ecause academia prizes originality and “filling gaps in the lit­er­a­ture,” as I mentioned ­earlier. But in the context of selling books, being the only person ever to write about a par­tic­u­lar topic or take a par­tic­u­lar approach may raise doubts about reader interest. Perhaps t­ here are no other books like yours out t­ here ­because ­there are no v­ iable buying audiences for books like yours. Think about what ­you’re implying when you try to impress an editor with “first.” You might be thinking, even at a subconscious level, that with the first book of its kind, the press ­will have no trou­ble selling it ­because audiences who are looking for this kind of book w ­ ill have no other options. The missing link ­here is that you also need to demonstrate that such desiring audiences exist. ­There’s no glory in being first if what ­you’re first at is something few ­people care about.

Write for Publication  •  35

But let’s say you do have a “hot” topic that audiences are clamoring to buy books about. Come out and say that part about audiences in your proposal or letter, instead of just saying ­you’re first and assuming that does all the rhetorical work for you. And then provide evidence to support your claim to be filling a genuine hole in the market. Maybe a relevant section or interest group has recently started up in your disciplinary organ­ization, and it’s gaining a lot of members. Or maybe a new journal has launched related to your area of study and is attracting attention among your peers. Maybe y­ ou’ve seen a trend of departments in your field adding courses related to your book’s topic. Maybe ­you’re privy to talk within professional worlds and can see that your topic is ­going to be of concern to prac­ti­tion­ers in coming years. Any of ­these types of evidence (with numerical data if y­ ou’ve got it) would help to showcase the promotion opportunities to be pursued when an original book like yours hits the market. I ­don’t want to overstate the degree to which publishers are resistant to originality and innovation in scholarship. First can be a selling point, if the conditions are right. And I d­ on’t want to make it sound like editors are all overly preoccupied with sales and the market, which i­sn’t necessarily true ­either (in scholarly publishing anyway). Above all, acquiring editors want to bring books to readers, so ­don’t focus so much on “first” and do focus on who ­you’re speaking to with your book and how the book ­will draw them in. Do I Need to Show That My Proj­e ct Is Relevant to Current Events in Order to Appeal to Publishers?

If ­you’re proposing your book now, the soonest it’s g­ oing to be on sale is a year and a half from now, prob­ably longer, and publishers are well aware of that. Therefore, ­don’t get too caught up in current events. That said, t­ here should be some compelling reason why readers would care about your research in a few years’ time, even if that research is historical. Do the broader takeaways from your research—­not necessarily your focused conclusions about your specific site or period—­have implications for what’s g­ oing on now or what may happen in the f­ uture? If so, that’s a stronger type of con­temporary connection to emphasize than links to late-­breaking headlines. This advice regarding timeliness goes for anyone, not just ­people writing about historical topics. Chasing trends is a futile game, especially in academic book publishing where the timelines are so long. Pegging your pitch to something that happened this month w ­ ill not win you any points with an editor and may suggest that your book ­will become dated quickly. If your work genuinely

36 • Chapter 2

happens to be on a topic that’s hot with editors right now, that’s lucky for you. If it’s not, ­don’t dwell on it. In scholarly publishing, showing why your work ­matters across time and place is more impor­tant than being on-­trend at the moment. If My Proj­e ct Is Set in a Non-­U .S. Location, Do I Need to Show That It Has U.S. Connections in Order to Appeal to U.S. Publishers?

If ­you’re hoping to publish with a U.S. press, then your proj­ect ­w ill need to appeal to readers in the United States, but it ­doesn’t necessarily have to be set in the United States to do so. Think about larger themes that could transcend the specific site of your research and highlight t­ hose. I have worked with many scholars whose research was set outside the United States and who got contracts from prestigious U.S. presses, so d­ on’t let anyone tell you it c­ an’t be done. Publishers in the United States that have a strong presence in international markets—as many of the larger university presses and commercial academic publishers do—­may even see your book as a uniquely appealing opportunity to attract readers.

3

Find Your Place Competing and Comparable Works

If y­ ou’ve looked at the submission requirements for book proposals at scholarly presses, y­ ou’ve prob­ably seen that they ask for “an account of your book’s relationship to comparable or competing works,” “a list of three or four competing books,” “a few of the books with which your book is comparable,” or something very similar.1 This list of comparable or competing titles (also known as “comps”) is prob­ably the t­ hing that scholars most frequently misunderstand when they come to me for help with their book proposals. But it also happens to be one of the most impor­tant components of your prospectus, ­because it’s often the t­ hing that helps your editor get a firm h­ andle on the kind of book ­you’re writing and the kinds of readers you expect to reach with it. Beyond that, your discussion of comps helps other staff at your publisher (such as sales and marketing ­people) understand how they should be positioning your book when it comes time to pre­sent it to readers and booksellers. Comps are also used to determine how many copies of your book should be printed, how the book should be priced, and where it should be placed in the press’s cata­log. Identifying your comps can also help you get clarity on the book you want to write and the readers you want to reach, which w ­ ill inform all other aspects of your proposal. This is why I’m addressing comps so early on in this guide, despite them usually appearing ­toward the end of a completed prospectus document. The comps section of the prospectus can feel particularly mysterious ­because it looks kind of like something academics are familiar with—­a lit­er­a­ ture review—­but it actually d­ oesn’t serve the same purpose at all. The comps section is mostly about audience and market. When a publisher asks about 1. I pulled ­these three sample phrases from the respective websites of the University of Chicago Press (https://­www​.­press​.­uchicago​.­edu​/­infoServices​/­submissions​-­faq​.­html), New York University Press (https://­nyupress​.­org​/­resources​/­for​-­authors​/­), and Prince­ton University Press (https://­press​.­princeton​.­edu​/­proposal​-­guidelines).

37

38 • Chapter 3

“competing” or “comparable” works, what they mean is “books that sold to the same types of ­people and in similar numbers as the one you are hoping to publish.” In other words, editors and presses use comps to try to get a sense of how well they can expect your book to sell and who they should be trying to sell it to. So how is the comps list dif­fer­ent than a lit­er­a­ture review, in practical terms? For one ­thing, publishers primarily care about recently published books, b­ ecause t­ hose are the only ones that are truly comparable in terms of sales. A classic in the field i­ sn’t actually comparable to your book, even if your manuscript happens to be of similar quality, ­because the classic ­doesn’t get sold in the same way and p­ eople ­will buy it for dif­fer­ent reasons than they ­w ill buy a fresh new book. Selecting recent books for your comps list establishes that the ­people who are buying new books right now (or as close to right now as we can get) are interested in books like yours. Presses are also only interested in comparing your book to other books, not journal articles or other types of publications that are distributed differently than your book ­w ill be. The information you provide about the comparable works is also dif­fer­ent than what you would include in a lit­er­a­ture review. Whereas a lit review might zero in on the finer points of other scholarship’s data, theoretical influences, methodology, or conclusions, ­here it’s best to communicate in broad strokes about what attracts p­ eople to the existing books and how your book offers similar features and distinct ones. Aspects of your book that might make it stand out from similar ones on the market might include your topic, approach, research sites, objects, methods, or writing style. You might point out differences in scope between your book and other ones available: for instance, you might take a broad view of a phenomenon while other scholars have taken a narrower view, or vice versa; or t­ here might be a wide-­ranging, multi-­author volume on your topic while your book offers a sustained inquiry. If your book is written to be more teachable to undergraduates than another book on a similar topic, that would be a good point to include. “Complementary” is another good way to think of “comps,” ­because when it comes to scholarship, you usually ­don’t need to argue that ­people ­will buy your book instead of the other books on your list. It’s smarter to make the case that ­people who have bought and liked the other books ­will have a compelling reason to buy yours as well. While you’ll want to establish that your book is distinct from t­ hese other books in some way, t­ here’s no burden to prove that your book is objectively better. In other words, you d­ on’t need to put down the

Find Your Place  •  39

other books or expose their intellectual shortcomings. You just need to show that they leave a space in the market that your book is ready to fill for readers. STEP 6: COLLECT A LIST OF COMP TITLES

In chapter 1—­when you w ­ ere researching target presses for your book manuscript—­I suggested that you make a list of recently published books that are “similar to yours in topic or readership.” If you w ­ ere to select a handful of the most comparable books you found, you’d already have a decent comps list. In your prospectus, you ­will include this list of comps with some discussion of each title and, crucially, what your book ­will bring to readers who may be selecting your book for purchase alongside or instead of the comparable books listed. You can list each comparable title one by one, with a separate paragraph for each book, or you can pre­sent your list and discussion more synthetically. For each title, provide the author, publisher, and year of publication, along with a sentence or two describing that book’s topic and approach. Then take a sentence or two to explain what readers w ­ ill find appealing about your book as an alternative or complement to the comp title. ­Here are a c­ ouple examples of what a competing title discussion might look like (I’ve adapted ­these from the 2011 proposal for my first book, Lifestyle Poli­ tics and Radical Activism): Like Uri Gordon’s Anarchy Alive! (Pluto Press, 2008), my manuscript offers an empirically grounded analy­sis of trends in con­temporary anarchism. While Gordon’s book is meant to be a primer on anarchist philosophy and praxis, the scope of my book is somewhat dif­fer­ent in that I use anarchist activism as a site for theorizing about broader issues in culture, communication, and identity. Lifestyle Politics and Radical Activism is also more centrally informed by feminist and queer politics and theory, making it appealing to scholars and students of gender and sexuality. My book takes up similar goals to Randall Amster, et al.’s Con­temporary An­ archist Studies (Routledge, 2009), in that I explore what con­temporary anarchism can show scholars about theory, methodology, and activist praxis. Lifestyle Politics and Radical Activism differs in that it is a book-­length ethnographic study rather than an edited collection of essays and case studies. You ­don’t need to go on for too long about each comp title. Keep in mind that your explanation of what makes your book outstanding and appealing in

40 • Chapter 3

comparison to your comp titles has to make sense to ­people who ­aren’t experts on your topic, such as the marketers and salespeople at your publisher. Some authors group their comps into clusters based on topic, discipline, or readership. Some choose to pre­sent t­ hese groups of titles in a synthetic narrative rather than individual blurbs, which is also fine. This example (which appears in one of the sample prospectuses included in the back of this guide) illustrates how that might be done: Branded Difference joins scholarly conversations with recent books that examine sports media as meaningful institutions within moments of cultural change. Since my proj­ect examines the UFC as an institution that brands itself within par­tic­u­lar con­temporary discourses of consumerism and identity, it shares some scholarly aims with Travis Vogan’s ESPN: The Making of a Sports Media Empire (University of Illinois Press 2015). Vogan’s book contextualizes the evolution of ESPN within the economic and cultural forces that enable the media organ­ization’s symbolic capital and flare for brand management. Branded Dif­ ference echoes some of his attention on the cultural, economic, and symbolic meanings of sports media enterprises, yet, brings a feminist analy­sis of the articulation of female fighters throughout the UFC brand. Branded Difference also shares an affinity with Thomas Oates’ Football and Manliness: An Unauthorized Feminist Account of the NFL (University of Illinois Press 2017). Oates focuses on the meanings and significances of gender within a sports media organ­ization. Oates uses the national preoccupation with the NFL to interrogate a shifting conceptualization of masculinity in a post-­feminist and post-­racial moment. Analogously, I position my proj­ect on w ­ omen in the UFC as an opportunity to scrutinize shifts within articulations of femininities in sports media organ­ izations that I attribute to the collusion between popu­lar feminism and neoliberalism. In this way, my proj­ect shares Kim Toffoletti’s interest in femininities and sports identities in her book ­Women Sport Fans: Identification, Participation, Repre­sen­ta­tion (Routledge 2017), which probes the con­temporary conditions such as globalization and consumerism that now make ­women sports fans vis­ i­ble. Branded Difference adds to this conversation by demonstrating how the UFC has taken notice of ­women’s participation in sports viewership and how it capitalizes on this phenomenon to articulate its brand identity. However you decide to pre­sent your comps, know that y­ ou’re not being graded by anyone on ­whether you picked the right or wrong books to include. This part of your prospectus is ­really about communicating to your publisher your vision for what your book could do and how it could be marketed.

Find Your Place  •  41

Time-­Tested Tips Pay Attention to the Publishers of Your Comp Titles and Stay in Your Lane

When selecting titles for your comps list, focus on publishers that are comparable to the press you are targeting. For instance, if you are submitting your proposal to a university press, most of the books on your list should also be published by university presses, ­because books published by university presses tend to share similar audiences and marketing channels, and they have similar standards of academic rigor. If your comps list is full of trade titles or titles from commercial academic presses, your editor may think your manuscript would be more appropriate for t­ hose kinds of presses. An editor may won­der if y­ ou’re secretly trying to write a trade book (instead of a traditional scholarly book) or if you have unrealistic expectations about the reach of your scholarly book. If you do want to write a crossover book with trade potential, that should be clear throughout your proposal—in your writing style and in your articulation of your audience and author platform—as well as reflected in the list of competing titles. If you come up with what you think is a good list of comps and the types of presses on your list ­don’t match the type of press ­you’re targeting, you ­either need to find more comparable comps or you need to rethink what kind of book you are writing and the audiences ­you’re most interested in reaching. Then rethink your target presses accordingly. Emphasize the Positive

However your book differs from what’s out t­ here, try to stay positive or at least neutral in your framing. As with p­ eople, what makes your book unique makes it special. And, as with ­people, just ­because another book is dif­fer­ent ­doesn’t make it bad. You might privately believe a competing title is garbage, but it’s best not to say it that way in your proposal. That book might be a favorite of the editor ­you’re pitching or its author might even be one of your reviewers. Instead of putting down an aspect of another book (“Book A is not written accessibly”), emphasize the positive in your own, (“While my book w ­ ill overlap somewhat in readership with Book A, my book is also written to reach students and prac­ti­tion­ers in addition to advanced scholars”). And what­ever you do, d­ on’t say anything negative about your own book in comparison to existing ones.

42 • Chapter 3

Know Your Target Press’s Offerings

It’s a good idea to pick at least one recent and well-­received book from the specific press ­you’re pitching. For one t­ hing, it establishes that ­you’re familiar with the press’s output and that your work resonates with their current list. For another ­thing, you’ll be helping your acquiring editor do their job. When it’s time to pitch your book to their colleagues—­which t­ hey’ll have to do before they can offer you a contract—­acquiring editors often point to titles their own ­house has recently put out, as a way to persuade the marketing and sales teams that they know what to do with a book like yours. If you can come up with ­those titles yourself, you’ll save your editor a step. Or you might come up with a title the editor ­wouldn’t have thought of on their own, which w ­ ill only enhance the case for your book.2 Frequently Asked Questions How Many Books Should I Include as Comparable Works?

The exact number of books you list ­isn’t too impor­tant. Three is a good minimum number to shoot for, and you prob­ably d­ on’t need more than six or eight to make your case. If you are targeting multiple readerships, choose a few books aimed at each readership. Follow your target press’s guidelines if they give a suggested number. What If ­T here Are No Other Recently Published Books on My Precise Topic?

You d­ on’t have to limit your comps to books that deal with identical subject ­matter to yours. Think in terms of similar audiences rather than similar topics. Who do you want to be reading your book when it comes out? Which new books are ­those readers currently excited about? ­Those are your comps. Should My Comps Include Popu­l ar, Nonscholarly Books on My Same Topic?

You might include one or two books like this, as evidence that ­people are interested in your topic. But ­these ­aren’t comparable titles in terms of sales and audience (­unless ­you’re pitching your book as a potential crossover title), so 2. I’m grateful to Dawn Durante, editor in chief at the University of Texas Press, for sharing this insider tip with me and the participants in my Book Proposal Accelerator workshop in summer 2019.

Find Your Place  •  43

they may not help your case much. I would not list t­ hese in place of other competing scholarly works, but they w ­ on’t necessarily hurt as an extra item. If you only list journalistic trade books in your competing titles section, a scholarly editor may fear that you d­ on’t have a realistic h­ andle on the audience for your own book. Should I Include the Famous, Bestselling Book That Every­o ne Is Talking about Right Now? Or the New Book by the Academic Celebrity Whose Name Every­o ne Knows?

You can, but it may not help you with a savvy editor. Your book may not be comparable, u­ nless you also happen to have the advantage of a power­ful author platform (that is, you can get ­people to buy your book based on the fact that you wrote it). Editors may be wary of authors who seem to have unrealistic expectations (or demands) for their books. That said, comparisons to well-­known titles or even classics can be useful as a way of cluing your editor in to how you position yourself in your field and the impact you are hoping to have. Personally, I would advise weaving t­ hose kinds of situating references into the proj­ect description rather than the comps, if you can.

4

Identify Your Audiences and Market Who Is Your Book R ­ eally For?

When you pitch your book for publication, one of the t­ hings you’ll definitely be asked about is the book’s intended audience. Why do publishers care so much about this? For one t­ hing, a book with a clearly defined audience is usually structured and written more effectively than one where the author ­wasn’t quite sure who they ­were trying to reach with their message. The question of audience is also a question of marketing and distribution. A publisher needs to know w ­ hether the kinds of p­ eople you want your book to reach are the kinds of p­ eople the publisher knows how to reach through established channels. The publisher w ­ ill also take cues from your proposal in thinking about how to pre­sent your book to the ­people who might buy it. This means that you’ll want to define your audiences in ways that w ­ ill be legible to nonexperts on your subject m ­ atter, such as designers, marketers, salespeople, and publicists. Therefore, you w ­ on’t want to think too narrowly or with too much academic nuance when ­you’re describing the ­people who might buy the book. You also ­won’t want to think too broadly—­you’ve got to give the publishing professionals a well-­defined reader to target. “The general educated reader” w ­ on’t cut it. If the acquisitions editor (in concert with marketing, sales, and design staff) can see a clear path to putting your book in front of the right potential buyers with the right sales appeal, t­ hey’ll be more likely to see your manuscript as a good investment for their press. When an editor reads your book proposal, they may get some of their own ideas about who ­will want to read your book and how to reach ­those p­ eople. But your thoughts about this question also ­matter, b­ ecause it’s impor­tant that your vision for your book is compatible with that of your publisher. ­There are many dif­fer­ent ways you could articulate the audiences you are speaking to with your book, and, as usual, ­there’s no single “correct” way to do it. Let me make this easy for you, though. ­There are basically four dif­fer­ent audiences that scholarly books get written for: 44

Identify Your Audiences and Market  •  45

• Other scholars: If your purpose in writing the book is to make an original contribution to the scholarship in your field—to produce and communicate new knowledge that ­others ­will cite and build on with their own research—­then your primary audience is other scholars. This includes ­people with PhDs as well as advanced gradu­ate students ­doing specialized research. If you need a book for tenure, the book usually has to address this type of scholarly audience. If this is an audience you ­will be naming in your proposal—­and it prob­ably should be if you are pitching a scholarly publisher—­you should also mention the specific research areas of the scholars you are writing for. If your book could speak to scholars across multiple areas, highlight just a manageable few areas in your proposal. (See also the discussion of interdisciplinary proj­ects in this chapter’s “Frequently Asked Questions.”) • Students: If your purpose in writing the book is to shape how a par­tic­ u­lar subject or concept is understood by ­people who are not necessarily looking to become experts, then your book may have good potential to reach undergraduate students (and the instructors who assign reading to them). In your proposal, you can mention what types of courses and what level (e.g., introductory, upper-­level undergraduate, ­etc.) the book could be ­adopted in. You can list courses or fields in which your book could serve as a core text and topics around which your book might be a­ dopted as supplemental reading. Teaching-­friendly books may also appeal to advanced scholars from outside your field who need a primer on your topic in the course of producing their own scholarship, so you can mention ­these readers too if you think your book might do well with them. • Prac­ti­tion­ers: I use this term as an umbrella that covers readers such as activists, advocates, journalists, policy-­makers, public educators, and ­others who have a strong connection to your subject ­matter and a practical need to learn from your scholarship in the course of their daily work. If you want your book to help ­these types of readers, then it’s impor­tant to emphasize the practical implications of your findings and how your research can be applied to the everyday situations ­these readers encounter. In your proposal, you can mention which specific types of prac­ti­tion­ers ­w ill find your work useful. It ­w ill also help to offer some evidence that such readers are in the habit of seeking out scholarly research on your topic or that you have a platform for reaching ­these readers directly (for more on what an author platform is, see chapter 10).

46 • Chapter 4

• General readers: First of all, the “general reader” is not actually a t­ hing, so ­you’re ­going to have to be more specific if you want to claim this audience. If you say that your book w ­ ill appeal to general readers or “a broader public,” that tells your editor l­ittle about how to get the book in front of ­actual p­ eople who might read it. At best, this type of statement in a proposal ­will be ignored; at worst, it could signal to an editor that you h­ aven’t thought carefully and realistically about who your ideal reader is. If your scholarly book tells a g­ reat story on a broadly in­ter­est­ing topic, then you might indeed have the potential to “cross over” and appeal to readers who ­don’t typically buy academic books. However, you should describe ­those readers more specifically than just saying “general readers,” ­because in real­ ity they are united by an interest in a specific topic, such as birds and wildlife, ­women in sports, the role of technology in society, or what­ever your topic happens to be. In your proposal, give this more specific description of your potential nonacademic readers and, ideally, demonstrate that you already have a platform among ­these readers. You ­don’t necessarily have to articulate your audiences in this way in order to have a successful book proposal, but this schema may help bring order to what can feel like a hazy prob­lem. Th ­ ese four audience categories are not mutually exclusive; your scholarly book can target more than one type of reader. Still, I recommend that you choose the one or two core audiences that are most impor­tant to you and keep t­ hose audiences in mind as you write and pitch the book. Your core readers, if they are enthusiastic enough about your book, ­will make sure other readers know about it. Clearly prioritizing your target audiences in order of importance in your prospectus w ­ ill help the marketing staff at your publisher understand where they should concentrate their efforts. And remember that t­ here’s no need to oversell crossover potential if your main concern is that your book is received well among academics. A book with a small, but well-­conceived audience can be easier to sell, and may even sell more copies, than one where no prospective reader is quite sure ­whether the book is for them or not. STEP 7: ARTICULATE YOUR BOOK’S AUDIENCE

­ ecause the question of audience and the question of market are so intimately B intertwined in the world of book publishing, one way to figure out your ideal audience is to think about the markets ­you’re prepared to reach with your book. For this reason, I’m suggesting that you approach this step of articulating your book’s audience by first considering the questions you ­will eventually

Identify Your Audiences and Market  •  47

be asked on behalf of the marketing department when it’s time to make the marketing plan for your book.1 ­These marketing questions w ­ ill be presented to you by your editor in the form of an author questionnaire (sometimes abbreviated as AQ), though ­every press has their own name for it. Below are some questions typically found in an author questionnaire. While the questionnaire is usually f­ uture focused to capture what you and your press can do to promote your book once it’s published, I’ve modified the questions to encompass what you have a track rec­ord of already ­doing to promote your research to date. Th ­ ese questionnaires can be tedious to fill out and may take several days or weeks to complete. D ­ on’t get too caught up in it right now—­just answer what you can off the top of your head and leave the rest of the questions alone. As you answer the questions, you may find yourself borrowing info from step 1, in which you identified your target presses. • If y­ ou’ve spoken at conferences about your book-­related research, what organ­izations sponsored them? Which divisions have hosted your work? • If y­ ou’ve given invited talks or workshops, what institutions, departments, or organ­izations have shown interest in your work by inviting you to speak? • Have you or your work made any media appearances? Who is quoting you or featuring your work? Who are their target audiences? • Which organ­izations or groups (scholarly, professional, social) do you belong to that ­will take an interest in your book? • Which email lists or online communities are you a member of where other members ­will take an interest in your book? • Which publications (scholarly or other­wise) have you contributed to or have covered your work in the past? • Who are the influential scholars, critics, journalists, or public figures who have shown an interest in your work? • What kinds of courses have ­adopted your work? What level students take ­these courses? What kinds of departments and institutions are ­these courses taught in? 1. I credit editor and author Rachel Toor with the recommendation to fill out an author questionnaire early in the proposal-­drafting pro­cess. See Toor, “The Real­ity of Writing a Good Book Proposal.”

48 • Chapter 4

Once ­you’ve answered as many of the questions as you can, see if you can identify a trend in the types of readers you seem to be reaching out to with your work (­whether consciously or not). What disciplines or departments did you mention? What kinds of ­people teach the courses, join the organ­izations, attend the conferences, read the journals, and populate the online communities that you listed? What kinds of audiences have attended your talks or workshops? Your answers to t­ hese questions should give you a pretty good idea of your primary, secondary, and perhaps even tertiary audiences. The final component of this step is to narrate—in a paragraph or two—­all the information ­you’ve generated about your target audiences and markets and how to reach them. This narrative w ­ ill eventually make its way into your prospectus. If the press’s proposal submission guidelines d­ on’t explic­itly mention target audience or market, discuss them anyway to show that you are thinking about t­ hese t­ hings in relation to your proj­ect. You can incorporate that discussion into the proj­ect description or make it a standalone section. A condensed version of this narrative can also go in your letter of inquiry—­you can go back and revise that if ­you’ve already generated a draft of the letter in step 5. To see how you might synthesize information about your target audiences into a convincing discussion of readership and market, consider this passage from sociologist Elizabeth Cherry’s prospectus for her book For the Birds: Pro­ tecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze (the full prospectus is included as a sample document in the back of this guide): For the Birds’s central focus on birders’ conceptions of and interactions with birds makes scholars of human-­animal studies its primary audience. My in-­depth discussion of the social construction of nature, the distinctions between wilderness and wildness, and environmental conservation make this of g­ reat interest to environmental sociologists as well. My concept of the “naturalist gaze,” as well as my discussion of the symbolic bound­aries between “good” and “bad” birds, should find an audience in sociologists of culture. My discussions of citizen science and wildlife conservation advocacy should also make this book of interest to scholars of science, technology, and society as well as social movement studies. It could be assigned for undergraduate or gradu­ate courses in animals and society, environmental sociology, culture, and qualitative methods. As an ethnographic account of a highly popu­lar pastime, my book also has a g­ reat deal of market potential. Books about birders and birding are generally quite popu­lar with general audiences, and many Audubon socie­

Identify Your Audiences and Market  •  49

ties have book clubs and invite writers to speak at their meetings. I have already been invited to speak about my birding research at three dif­fer­ent Audubon socie­ties and birding clubs in the New York metropolitan area in early 2018, and I have access to several other local and state Audubon socie­ ties to promote my work. I have also formed relationships with the leadership of the National Audubon Society, based in New York City, and I aim to pre­sent my research at their national Audubon Convention and gain coverage in their high-­circulation, nationwide Audubon Magazine once my book is published. ­ fter ­you’ve written your own narrative of your audiences, it w A ­ ouldn’t hurt to print it out and pin it up prominently somewhere in your workspace while you finish your book manuscript. Sometimes the audiences we’d like to have written the book for a­ ren’t the ones we actually wrote it for, but you may be able to rectify this in revision by playing up framing and stylistic ele­ments that befit the readers you most want to reach. Time-­Tested Tips Translate Frameworks and Lit­e r­a ­t ures to Audiences

Let’s say you see your research as making a contribution to or being in dialogue with feminist theory; you can position this in the book proposal as, “My book w ­ ill be of interest to scholars and advanced students of feminist theory,” or possibly, “My book ­will appeal to readers interested in issues of gender and sexuality.” You could also think about the lit­er­a­ture reviews you conducted in preparation for your research. If your research is grounded in the lit­er­a­ture on digital ­labor, for instance, you might say that the book ­will be useful to students and instructors in courses on digital l­abor or even digital culture more broadly. Notice that I’m not getting any more specific than “feminist theory” or “gender and sexuality” or “digital ­labor” ­here. If you go too narrow, you paint your book as being so niche that its readers ­won’t constitute a ­viable market. Thus, scholars and students of “poststructuralist feminist theory” or “autonomist theories of digital ­labor” would not be ideal audiences to mention, and might give the impression that y­ ou’re still thinking about your readers in terms of your dissertation committee. Keep this in mind when y­ ou’re writing the book too—­package your arguments and takeaways so as to be in­ter­est­ing to readers beyond t­ hose in your specific theoretical lane.

50 • Chapter 4

Be Realistic about Audience Interest in Your Approach

Just b­ ecause you want certain audiences to read your book d­ oesn’t mean that they ­will. If y­ ou’re claiming that ­you’re ­going to shake up a field with a totally dif­fer­ent approach or an edgy research question, consider that it might raise doubts with an editor about w ­ hether enough readers out t­ here actually want to be shaken up in the way y­ ou’re offering. If you want to claim this kind of audience, offer some evidence that your book ­will draw such readers in or that such readers have already shown an interest in your perspective. You might also point to recent books that have shaken up your field in similar ways, to show that it can be done. Offer Evidence of Audience Interest in Your Topic

Use your proposal to alert your editor if the topic or questions at the heart of your book have recently been the subject of g­ reat attention or debate within your field. As evidence to support this kind of claim, you might point to pieces in The Chron­ icle of Higher Education that every­one talked about, recent keynotes or high-­profile panels at major disciplinary conferences, the creation of new sections or interest groups within your disciplinary associations, or the successful launch of a new journal in your subfield. ­These types of ­things can indicate a growing interest in your topic that a publisher can tap into when it’s time to market the book. If ­you’re ­going to suggest that your book could reach readers beyond the acad­emy, you’ll want to offer evidence that your topic and approach are marketable to nonacademic readers. Pointing to coverage of your topic in mainstream blogs or newspapers could help your case. If activist or professional communities (e.g., government, business, journalism, tech) are discussing the issues in your book internally—at their conferences or in their trade publications, say—­pointing to such examples could bolster a claim that your book might be of interest to industry and prac­ti­tion­ers. To go the extra mile, you might provide some evidence that t­ hese audiences are willing to pay for academic expertise. Do they invite scholars to speak at their events? Or­ga­nize reading groups? Hold book fairs? If you, specifically, have been invited to speak or write for nonacademic audiences, especially if ­you’ve been paid to do so, that’s a fantastic tidbit to trot out in your proposal. A Broader Audience I­ sn’t Always Better for a Scholarly Press

­ on’t oversell the mainstream commercial appeal of your book if that’s not D realistic. A well-­defined audience of other scholars can be just as attractive to a publisher, and scholarly presses w ­ on’t expect ­every book to have crossover

Identify Your Audiences and Market  •  51

potential. Recognize also that a claim to mainstream appeal ­won’t be convincing if you write in very specialized language with a lot of academic apparatus. The style of the proposal has to convincingly support the claims you are making about the book’s audience. Frequently Asked Questions Is the Field I Work in the Same as the Audience I’m Writing For?

One of the seemingly obvious ways to identify a scholarly readership is to name the field in which you write and research. Sociologists, historians, or literary scholars might all sound like reasonable audiences for your book, if you come from one of ­those fields. But think about the big disciplinary meetings in your home field—­would you go see ­every paper presented ­there? Would you want to buy ­every book in the book exhibit? Hardly. So ­those “audiences” are much too large to be useful when conceiving your book or explaining it to a publisher. If you want to use field to articulate audience, think a level narrower. A section or special interest group within your home disciplinary organ­ization would make more sense. Thinking at this level of subfield can also keep you from g­ oing too narrow in conceiving your target audience. If a subject area attracts enough interest to sustain a stream at a major conference—­that is, it gets enough submissions and paying members to be able to sponsor its own panels—­that tells you something about the potential for interest in your book. Keep in mind too that your audience may also include scholars outside your field who are researching related topics and even readers who ­aren’t scholars at all. Is ­T here a Difference between “Audience,” “Readership,” and “Market” for the Purposes of My Book Proposal?

A market is the broad set of ­people whom you might be able to get interested in buying your book, while an audience or readership is the ­people you are specifically speaking to with the book and your promotion efforts around it. University librarians might constitute a market but not an audience. Members of the Society for Cinema and Media Studies might constitute a market, whereas “critical video games scholars” (who often attend and pre­sent at the SCMS conference) would be an audience. D ­ on’t get caught up in t­ hese distinctions. If y­ ou’re talking thoughtfully about audience or market at all in your proposal, ­you’re good.

52 • Chapter 4

How Much Market Research Do I Need to Do in Order to Write My Proposal? Do I Need to Have Hard Numbers of ­P eople Who Might Buy My Book?

You’ll want to demonstrate an understanding of the audience and market for your book in your proposal, but no one expects you to be a marketing wizard. ­There’s no way to arrive at an exact estimate of the number of p­ eople who might buy your book, and I ­don’t think it’s a good idea to come off as a fantasist by making up figures. But let’s say your book is about some so­cio­log­i­cal aspect of l­ abor, and you happen to know how many ­people belong to the ­Labor and ­Labor Movements section of the American So­cio­log­ic­ al Association. Throwing that number out t­ here could be good—­not as the number of p­ eople who ­will as­suredly want to buy your book, but as an indication that ­there is a substantial subfield of scholars who might be interested in reading or teaching with a book like yours. How Do I Identify a Primary Audience When My Book Spans Multiple Time Periods, Field Sites, Methodologies, Types of Texts, ­e tc.?

Frame your pitch around the larger question that drives your work and the implications of your argument. Think about what kinds of readers w ­ ill connect with ­those questions and implications, even if ­those readers ­aren’t necessarily perfectly aligned with all of your periods, sites, methods, or texts. Should I Tout My Book’s Interdisciplinarity, ­ Because More Fields Means More Potential Readers?

It stands to reason that a book touching multiple fields would reach multiple markets and thus be a better investment for a publisher, but in practice this is not always the case. In fact, it can be difficult for publishers to reach multiple readerships effectively. ­There are a few reasons for this. First, if a book ­doesn’t seem to fit any specific audience’s disciplinary expectations, readers may not see it as an indispensable book in their own field. They may think, “that sounds in­ter­est­ing,” but not, “I definitely need to engage with this.” Second, publishers prefer that you be active and known in the fields you are trying to publish in so that name recognition can help bring attention to your book. If you h­ aven’t been making yourself vis­i­ble in the multiple disciplines your book draws from, multidisciplinarity ­won’t necessarily help you in the marketplace. Third is the ­matter of marketing resources, including both money and time. Publishers

Identify Your Audiences and Market  •  53

have to prioritize the resources they put into sales and promotion; they may not be able to bring your book to e­ very relevant conference or advertise it in ­every relevant publication to ­every field your book touches. All of t­ hese obstacles can be overcome, but pitching your book as if it w ­ ill be very clearly relevant in one field is perhaps more likely to get you in the door with an editor who might be initially wary of an interdisciplinary proj­ect. You can mention secondary readerships in the other fields your work touches, but it’s more effective to position them as bonuses rather than a major selling point. And then if you do mention multiple disciplinary audiences your book has the potential to reach, it’s always more compelling if you can give concrete evidence that you yourself know how to reach t­ hose audiences. This is where your track rec­ord of presenting at their conferences, writing for their publications, being invited to speak in their departments, and having your work assigned in their courses, ­etc., can help.

5

Showcase Your Core Thesis Strong Arguments Make Strong Books

Before I became a self-­employed developmental editor and publishing con­ sul­tant, I held a post as associate editor at the journal Feminist Media Studies. With my co-­editor (the wonderful Susan Berridge at the University of Stirling in the United Kingdom), I was responsible for the “Commentary and Criticism” section of the journal. Six times a year, we put out open calls for essay submissions around vari­ous themes. We would sometimes get dozens of submissions for any given issue, but we never had much trou­ble narrowing the submissions down to a handful that we w ­ ere actually prepared to publish a­ fter some revisions. Why was it so easy to eliminate most submissions from the ­running? ­Because most writers simply ­didn’t make any kind of argument in their essays. A scholar might come to us with a fun topic or an in­ter­est­ing opinion that piqued our interest, but without a clear thesis and an answer to the inevitable “so what?” question, the piece ­didn’t hold our attention as editors. A similar princi­ple applies in scholarly book publishing. I said in chapter 2 that the two big ­things acquiring editors are looking for in a prospective book are a significant contribution to knowledge and the potential to attract readers. A strong thesis is helpful for both of t­ hese goals, b­ ecause your topic and approach, on their own, d­ on’t constitute an intellectual contribution. Even if you research something that is understudied, or take an intriguing approach to a familiar phenomenon, it’s not a given that you w ­ ill expand your readers’ thinking or advance a field. Although a scholarly book editor might grant that par­ tic­u­lar topics are timely, trendy, or generally appealing to readers, an editor ­can’t endorse your book for publication based on the topic alone. You have to bring more to the ­table in order to capture the interest of peer reviewers and, eventually, readers. Your book’s thesis is the core argument that drives every­thing in the manuscript. This argument is not merely a claim or an assertion; it explains to the reader a phenomenon they might not have understood before. A compelling 54

Showcase Your Core Thesis  •  55

thesis not only claims a relationship between entities, but also theorizes that relationship in ways that can be agreed with or disagreed with. The evidence you offer in your book persuades the reader to agree with your thesis. When you clearly articulate the thesis at the heart of your book, you leave readers with a “big idea” they can associate with your name forever. Big ideas can propel scholarly ­careers and even set directions for public discourse on a topic. A provocative thesis can also expand your potential readership. Research questions that lead you to merely describe a phenomenon (or text or object or what­ever it is you study) restrict your audience to the set of ­people who intrinsically cared about that t­ hing before t­ hey’d ever heard of your book. But ­there are a ­limited number of readers who take an intrinsic interest in any given topic and ­will just buy any book that comes out about it. A capacious explanatory thesis offers readers scope for identification: they can imagine how the relationships you discovered and theorized might play out in the sites and scenarios ­they’re most interested in. A broader contribution that transcends the specific site of your research helps to make the case that your book ­will be useful to a wider audience of scholars. It also inspires confidence in a publisher that your book ­will have longevity well ­after its topic ceases to be trendy. A strong thesis also makes for strong writing. Having a clear idea of what ­you’re arguing in your book lends the entire manuscript a sense of narrative purpose. Knowing the big idea of your book enables you to shape each chapter (and section, paragraph, and sentence, even) in ser­vice of that big idea. Books written with a strong sense of purpose tend to be more enjoyable to read than ­those where the author meanders around vari­ous aspects of a topic for three hundred pages. Now that you understand the value of a strong core argument in your book, I hope you recognize the need to communicate what that argument is in your book proposal, letter of inquiry, and any other documents you use to pitch your proj­ect to a publisher. If y­ ou’ve gotten this far into the publishing pro­cess and ­you’re still not sure what the big idea is at the heart of your book, d­ on’t feel discouraged. It can be a tough ­thing to figure out; it’s the main ­thing I end up helping authors with when they come to me wanting help turning their dissertations into book manuscripts. It’s also the most common piece of advice I give when I evaluate book proposals for my author clients: this pitch is not giving me a clear sense of the book’s thesis—­I d­ on’t know what this book wants to say. I can tell you right h­ ere that if ­you’re thinking about a driving thesis at all, ­you’re already ahead of a lot of ­people. The steps in this chapter ­w ill help. If you put in the work of articulating your book’s main argument

56 • Chapter 5

now, you’ll have a distinct advantage when you submit your proposal and further on when your book hits the shelves. STEP 8: STATE YOUR BOOK’S THESIS

If ­you’ve finished your research and still a­ ren’t sure what big idea or core argument ­w ill drive your book, it might be time to try some thought experiments: • Imagine one change in the world that might come about as a result of your research. What argument, if made convincingly, would prompt that change? • Imagine one ­thing you hope scholars ­will never again think, say, or write about your topic. What argument would convince them not to believe this ­thing? • Imagine you can only leave your reader with one lesson to take away from your research. What would it be? • What was the ­thing you learned during your research that most changed your thinking about your subject ­matter? How do you explain that ­thing? Somewhere in your answers to ­these questions w ­ ill likely lie the big idea that should be at the heart of your book. Another tactic you can try in order to identify your thesis is to comb through ­things ­you’ve already written about your proj­ect and see if a driving argument jumps out at you ­there. I do this frequently with materials my clients have written. If you want to try my method, ­here are my suggested steps:1 • Read through the raw material you generated in step 4 of this guide. You might also look at the current draft of your introduction chapter (if y­ ou’ve written it already), or a fellowship or job application in which ­you’ve described your research. As you read, underline every­thing that looks like an argument, remembering that we defined an argument as a claim about a relationship between ­things that can be agreed or disagreed with. You might end up with a lot of underlining.

1. The method I describe ­here is partially inspired by developmental editor Scott Norton’s suggested techniques for identifying the main thesis of a nonfiction manuscript. See Norton, Developmental Editing, especially chapter 3.

Showcase Your Core Thesis  •  57

• Then go back through the document and put a star by anything that seems like an original, impor­tant argument you care a lot about reaching readers with. Not every­thing you underlined initially ­will make the cut. • Now think about ­those impor­tant arguments. If ­there are a lot of them, you could write them out on a separate piece of paper. I like to do this by hand, but you could copy and paste it into a blank document too. You may even find it helpful to put each argument on a note card and physically arrange them so that you can visualize which arguments could be subordinated to ­others.2 • Looking at your set of arguments, try to identify one that is broadest and can encompass all or most of the ­others. It should be one that pertains to most of the content of your manuscript. That’s your main thesis. If none of the arguments you find in your previous writing seems like it could be the main thesis of your book, you might need to think more abstractly. You could try arranging the smaller arguments into a logical sequence and then come up with a new thesis statement that synthesizes all of them. Once ­you’ve identified your book’s core argument, write a one-­paragraph summary that explains it. You may want to go back to your letter of inquiry draft and put this paragraph into it. You’ll also be using this paragraph when you assem­ ble your proj­ect description in chapter 6. (It’s okay to use similar material in both places; you can massage transitions and phrasing as needed to make it fit.) ­Here’s an example of an effective paragraph that concisely pre­sents a book’s thesis. Like the example passage about audiences from step 7, it comes from sociologist Elizabeth Cherry’s prospectus for her book For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze (the full prospectus is included as a sample document in the back of this guide): Birding means more than simply watching birds; it encompasses training one’s senses to pay close attention to all of the sights and sounds in nature. In For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze, I argue that birders learn to view wildlife in a par­tic­u­lar way, which I call the “naturalist gaze.” The naturalist gaze provides birders with a systematic understanding of h­ umans’ and wild animals’ intertwined places in the ecosystem. This sensibility, in turn, structures birders’ environmental advocacy in the form of citizen science proj­ects and wildlife conservation. The naturalist gaze connects the minute and mundane aspects of birding, such as the lessons 2. I thank Samuel Yates for the suggestion to engage with arguments in a tactile manner.

58 • Chapter 5

birders get on nature walks, to the large and consequential, such as the movement to protect the environment from anthropogenic climate change. This deep understanding of nature and all of its ele­ments creates a way of interacting with the natu­ral world that differentiates birding from other ways of interacting with animals or engaging in nature-­based hobbies. You can see ­here how Cherry ­doesn’t just make factual claims about what birders do based on her observations of them. She develops a big idea—­the naturalist gaze—­that explains why birders do what they do and how it affects their relationships to larger forces. From this one paragraph, you can start to imagine how Cherry’s big idea might be portable to other contexts and might interest readers who may not be particularly focused on birding itself. This big idea also brings a sense of drive to Cherry’s entire book, b­ ecause each chapter ­will help readers understand the naturalist gaze and its consequences in new ways. As evidence that other ­people believed Cherry’s book would have wide appeal based on this description, consider the fact that major mainstream bookstores de­cided to stock this academic Rutgers University Press book on their shelves. I bought my copy at a Barnes and Noble in Manhattan. An author’s dream! STEP 9: DISTILL A ONE-­L INER FOR YOUR PROJ­E CT

Now try to concentrate the one-­paragraph summary of your argument down to a single sentence or phrase that captures the main claim your book is making. You can maybe make it two sentences, but not long meandering sentences with lots of clauses. The idea is to simply and directly communicate what makes your book impor­tant and in­ter­est­ing. Publishers use one-­liners in their cata­logs and other sales materials. The audience for a book’s one-­liner is potential readers who ­don’t yet know this book is for them and booksellers and librarians who need to understand why this book ­will appeal to their customers and patrons. That means the one-­liner ­doesn’t have to capture ­every nuance of your argument or even the full scope of your proj­ect; it just needs to grab someone’s attention and make them want to learn more about the book. ­Here are some real examples of one-­liners to inspire you: “What identity means in an algorithmic age: how it works, how our lives are controlled by it, and how we can resist it.” (From the New York University Press cata­log listing for John Cheney-­Lippold’s We Are Data: Algorithms and the Making of Our Digital Selves)

Showcase Your Core Thesis  •  59

“Examines how Jewish ­women have used poetry to challenge their historical limitations while rewriting their potential f­ utures.” (From the State University of New York Press cata­log listing for Zohar Weiman-­Kelman’s Queer Expectations: A Genealogy of Jewish ­Women’s Poetry) “An examination of how changing public information infrastructures ­shaped ­people’s experience of earthquakes in Northern California in 1868, 1906, and 1989.” (From the MIT Press cata­log listing for Megan Finn’s Docu­ menting Aftermath: Information Infrastructures in the Wake of Disasters) “A vivid look at China’s shifting place in the global po­liti­cal economy of technology production.” (From the Prince­ton University Press cata­log listing for Silvia Lindtner’s Prototype Nation: China and the Contested Promise of Innovation) “A new vision of money as a communication technology that creates and sustains invisible—­often exclusive—­communities.” (From the Yale University Press cata­log listing for Lana Swartz’s New Money: How Payment Became Social Media) If your book gets published, someone at your press may come up with a one-­ liner for it. I’m suggesting that you formulate one now b­ ecause it w ­ ill give you a hook to use when ­you’re communicating with editors. The one-­liner you come up with might not make it into your proposal draft anywhere, but it’ll be helpful to have in your back pocket when you need it. Once ­you’ve got your one-­liner drafted, commit it to memory—­practice saying it, be able to say it in your sleep—so that when you have the opportunity to chat with an editor about your work, it’s right on the tip of your tongue. You could try it out in lower-­stakes situations first, to see if it makes sense to other p­ eople. When you start seeing ­people’s eyes light up with interest or recognition—or if they immediately want to debate it with you—­you’ll know y­ ou’ve landed on a good h­ andle. You can use it in your letter of inquiry to ­really clinch an editor’s attention. Time-­Tested Tips Prioritize One Main Argument as the Driver for Your Book

It’s not uncommon for me to read a book proposal draft that contains anywhere from three to eight sentences that begin with the words “I argue” or “This book contends that” and the ends of the sentences are dif­fer­ent ­every time. Often ­these a­ ren’t ­really arguments, t­ hey’re just assertions of fact. And a book that promises to prove many arguments can have as much trou­ble connecting with readers as one that lacks a strong argument at all.

60 • Chapter 5

You may feel that ­after all the work ­you’ve put into your book, you need to have a lot to show for it. You might think you can advance your field in multiple ways and that multiple arguments in one book is the way to do that. The prob­ lem is that, by throwing every­thing at your reader, you make it less likely ­they’ll absorb and retain any of it. Packing a bunch of arguments into a book without giving structural emphasis to any of them is a good way to ensure that readers come away without a clear idea of the overall point. As an author, you can help convince a reader that you have something very impor­tant to say by shaping the text—­and your book proposal—as if that one big idea is very impor­tant. This means not asking the reader to hold multiple distinct arguments in their head at once. Focus most of your book proposal around the most impor­tant argument your book w ­ ill make. Some of the t­ hings you want readers to understand may become nested sub-­arguments that support the overall thesis; use ­these to drive individual chapters or sections within chapters, and save your discussion of them for your proposal’s annotated ­table of contents (which I cover in chapter 7). If you can prioritize and nest your arguments at dif­fer­ent levels in the text, you’ll help the reader grasp the broad, overarching argument better. Your book ­will have a greater impact ­because of it. Use Language Intentionally to Emphasize the Presence of a Driving Thesis

Some verbs can be red flags that ­you’re still digesting your research and ­haven’t yet identified your own contribution. I have seen so many proposals for books that “analyze,” “contemplate,” “discuss,” “examine,” “explore,” “illuminate,” “interrogate,” “investigate,” “look at,” “problematize,” “reflect on,” “unpack,” “view,” or even plain old “describe” a phenomenon. It’s fine if your book does t­ hese t­ hings—­and it’s fine to use ­these words in your proposal—­but you must also tell the reader what your book concludes as a result of ­these activities. If you ­don’t, an editor or peer reviewer might surmise that you h­ aven’t yet synthesized all that y­ ou’ve found in the course of your research. Without synthesis, t­ here’s no intellectual contribution—­it’s just documentation. Words like “demonstrates,” “asserts,” “argues,” “finds,” and “concludes” are stronger ways to show off that you have taken a position on your subject ­matter and that the book does indeed have clear takeaways for the reader. Use Rhetorical Questions Judiciously

Like ­those wishy-­washy verbs from the previous tip, rhetorical questions can also make your proj­ect seem underbaked. When I work with authors on their proposals, I find that they often use rhetorical questions as shortcuts to signal

Showcase Your Core Thesis  •  61

what their work is kind of about without having to posit any ­actual arguments. ­These shortcuts are fine in an early draft but they can often be replaced by ­actual assertions by the time ­you’ve figured it all out in writing the book or proposal. If you like questions as a rhetorical device, just be sure to answer them as soon as pos­si­ble a­ fter you pose them, so that the person reading your proposal is assured that the book ­will offer a sense of resolution. Frequently Asked Questions Is It Too Early to Submit a Book Proposal If I’m Still Working on My Manuscript and I’m Not Sure What the Driving Thesis Is Yet?

It’s never too early to talk to an editor to gauge their interest in your topic and approach. But for the purposes of the formal proposal submission, it’s better to have a strong thesis in mind and to be able to explain how the content of your book supports that thesis. It’s not unheard of for an author to receive positive attention from a press on the strength of their topic alone. I work with a lot of scholars writing about digital media, for instance, for whom this is the case, ­because editors imagine their topics to hold popu­lar and timely appeal, regardless of the ultimate argument. But ­you’re prob­ably better off getting a clear understanding of what you want to say with your book before you decide which editor and press are best to help you say it. You’ll also have a better chance of getting the proposal through peer review. I have seen acquisitions editors start out very excited about a proj­ect ­because of its subject m ­ atter, only to cool significantly when the peer reviewers pointed out underdevelopment in the argument and structure of the proposed manuscript.

6

Give an Overview A Template for Proj­e ct Descriptions

The proj­ect description (some presses call this an overview) is the centerpiece of your book prospectus. It ­will do impor­tant work to pre­sent your book proj­ ect in a way that ­w ill get an editor interested in—­and hopefully excited about—­the possibility of acquiring your manuscript. ­Here, I’m ­going to share with you a template for proj­ect descriptions that I’ve developed. As I noted in chapter 2, my templates a­ ren’t formulas that you unquestionably have to follow in order to land a contract. Rather, you can use this template as a starting point if y­ ou’re lost or as a revision tool if y­ ou’re stuck when it comes to giving an overview of your book proj­ect. ­Here’s the structure of the template. Each piece corresponds to a paragraph of the description, more or less. • Hook + a statement of the book’s big takeaway: The hook can be an intriguing episode from your research or a particularly vivid or familiar real-­world example that readers can relate to. It should be something that illustrates the big idea you want readers to take away from the book. Then you can say what that big ­thing is, right in the first paragraph. Your one-­ liner, if ­you’ve crafted one, might work well in this opening paragraph. • A more detailed statement of the book’s core argument and conclusions: In the second paragraph of your proj­ect description, you can take a few sentences to lay out the book’s thesis. ­Here’s where you can also give away the book’s conclusions. • What’s at stake? Why should your findings ­matter and to whom? A good way to explain what makes your findings ­matter is to highlight their consequences for h­ uman actors. Depending on your topic, you might be revealing consequences for animals or the environment, rather than ­humans specifically, which is also fine. This paragraph answers the question of what readers ­will know, believe, or be able to do as a result of this book. 62

Give an Overview  •  63

• A discussion of how your argument contributes to or intervenes in an ongoing scholarly conversation: ­Don’t make this a slog through the lit­er­a­ture. Pick out a few key concepts or theories that your work builds on and adds exciting new layers to. Notice I said “builds on” and “adds.” You need to show that you have something new to say as you demonstrate appropriate recognition of what came before. Keep this discussion succinct, ­because it’s easy for your voice to get lost when you dwell too long on other scholars’ ideas. • The evidence and methods you use to build the book’s argument: This is where you talk about the “stuff ” that’s in the book. What sites, objects, data, or texts do you analyze and how? Give the reader a sense of what y­ ou’re basing your argument on and how you arrive at your conclusions. • The general structure and arc of the book: This is the story of how you get from point A to point B over the course of the book’s chapters. Describe this arc in broad strokes. You ­don’t have to list ­every chapter and describe its contents ­here. In fact, you ­shouldn’t, ­because that kind of t­ hing is usually pretty boring. Plus, it repeats information the reader ­will get ­later in the annotated ­table of contents (see chapter 7), and it ­doesn’t necessarily tell readers how the material all works together to serve a larger purpose. If your book happens to be structured or written in an unconventional way for your field, it’s helpful to explain ­here why that is and what the payoff ­will be for readers. • Your target audience: Fi­nally, it’s nice to describe the main audiences you are trying to reach and why ­they’ll find the book useful. Sometimes a press’s proposal template ­will ask for this information in a separate section from the proj­ect description, but including a concise version of it ­here too shows that you have fundamentally conceived the book with readers in mind. Bonus points if you can also briefly explain why your target press is the right place to reach ­those readers. I like this structure for a proj­ect description b­ ecause someone can essentially stop reading at any point and still appreciate what the book is about and why it’s impor­tant. Ideally, your writing ­will be compelling enough that an editor ­doesn’t want to set your proposal down, but if you can get the point across quickly, that can start the gears turning in an editor’s head about how they w ­ ill make this proj­ect work at their press. The overview is your chance to show that your proj­ect has every­thing an editor looks for in a scholarly book (which I covered in chapter 2), so take full advantage of it.

64 • Chapter 6

STEP 10: DRAFT A PROJ­E CT DESCRIPTION

You can use the template in this chapter to draft your proj­ect description, drawing from the material y­ ou’ve already generated in the previous steps. If you find that presenting the information in a dif­fer­ent order from what I’ve suggested in the template works better for you, go with what works. Check out the proj­ect descriptions from the sample prospectuses t­ oward the back of this guide for inspiration if you need it. Also consult the submission instructions or proposal guidelines for your top target presses. Many of them w ­ ill provide a template for you to follow or list the key points they expect you to address in your proj­ect description; do so if you can. Time-­Tested Tips Stay General about Structure in Your Proj­e ct Description

A chapter-­by-­chapter breakdown of your book’s content ­will not inspire confidence in an editor that you have a grip on the broad sweep of your book’s overall contribution and narrative. A common ­mistake I see is authors saying that their book is a collection of case studies and then explaining each one in turn. This screams undigested dissertation research or a stitching together of preexisting articles. If your chapters are g­ oing to be case studies, try to figure out what overarching theme unites them all and emphasize that through-­line in your proj­ect description. Make Your Contribution Clear for Nonexperts

Your peer reviewers and series editors may understand exactly why your findings are significant or why your thesis m ­ atters within your field, without your having to spell it out too much. However, the editorial board and other staff at your press w ­ ill be more convinced of the significance of your work if you can come out and answer the “so what?” question in straightforward language. This means d­ on’t get bogged down in intradisciplinary conflicts, theoretical minutiae, or field-­specific jargon. Only a tiny segment of readers ­w ill care about t­ hose t­ hings anyway. If you find yourself getting into the weeds on your contribution, it might help to refocus on the a­ ctual stuff you researched rather than the intellectual debates around that stuff. If you say that readers ­will come to understand issue X as a result of your book, you may want to explain why readers w ­ ill need to understand that issue. If you say that your book has the potential to change

Give an Overview  •  65

how X is perceived in Y fields, take the opportunity to elaborate on what material effects you hope w ­ ill come about as a result of this change in perception. ­These need not be extended discussions; a single sentence that gestures t­ oward what’s at stake in your book can demonstrate to editors that the manuscript is more than an intellectual exercise with ­limited appeal. Frequently Asked Questions How Long Should the Proj­e ct Description Be?

Editors’ preferences vary on this one, so it’s a hard question to answer definitively. The exact length of the proj­ect description is less impor­tant than your giving the editor the right information to get them excited about the proj­ect. While you might think more information is better, keep in mind that an editor ­will also be impressed and appreciative if you demonstrate in your proposal that you can write directly and with economy. The best proj­ect descriptions I’ve seen have been about 1,200 to 1,500 words, or two to three pages single-­ spaced. That said, I’ve seen acquiring editors suggest that up to five to seven pages is acceptable. If your target press has a suggested length, go with that. Is it Better to Give My Conclusions Away in the Proposal or to Leave My Preliminary Readers Wanting to See More?

Editors and peer reviewers need to know what the book contributes in order to assess ­whether it’s a contribution their press should publish. If you d­ on’t make the book’s scholarly value clear from the outset, readers may won­der if you have something significant to argue or contribute at all, and you may not make it past the proposal stage. Therefore, give away as much as pos­si­ble in the proposal itself. How Much Do I Need to Talk about My Research Methods in the Proj­e ct Description?

Describing your methods can be helpful in so far as they situate you as an authority who is qualified to make the arguments you make in the book. But you d­ on’t need to get into too much detail or justify why you employed the methods you did. If t­ here’s something unique about how you did your research that has the potential to advance your scholarly field, you can share it, but try to sum it all up in a ­couple sentences, maximum. Most books ­don’t innovate in their methodologies and that’s fine; d­ on’t claim it for your book if it i­sn’t

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true. In general, methods are far less in­ter­est­ing to book editors than to dissertation committees or even readers of journal articles, and a methods discussion can slow down and clutter an other­wise compelling proposal. The most impor­tant purpose of the methods and evidence paragraph in your proj­ect description is to give the reader a sense of where in the world your book w ­ ill take them, rather than where your research took you. How Much Do I Need to Talk about “the Lit­e r­a­t ure” or Other Scholarship in Relation to My Research?

Do explain how your book builds on or intervenes in ongoing debates or areas of inquiry as a way to situate your proj­ect for your editor and other publishing personnel. But too much reference to previous scholarship can be a signal that ­you’re still in dissertation mode and h­ aven’t yet claimed your own authority as a scholar with plenty to contribute yourself. Overly prominent mentions of specific scholars in your proposal can also make the work feel too narrow, ­because ­these references rely on readers already knowing the lit­er­a­ture well enough to intuit your own approach from your mention of ­these other scholars. Some expert readers w ­ ill know what you mean, but you may not want to give the impression that your book can only be read by experts, especially if you are claiming that your intended audience includes students or other nonspecialists in your field. If you are building on another scholar’s concept or term, it’s appropriate to give them credit in your proj­ect description. But if a good deal of your proposal space is taken up by t­ hings that need to be credited to o­ thers, editors and peer reviewers ­will won­der ­whether readers need your book or ­whether they can just go read the books that are already out t­ here. Cutting down on external references is not about ego or narcissistic individualism; it’s about showing that you have something valuable to contribute and demonstrating that reading your book ­will be a good use of your audience’s ­limited time. How Do I Fix a Proj­e ct Description That Feels Dry or Boring?

Book proposals can feel lackluster when authors dwell on abstract ideas over concrete t­ hings and real ­people. Sometimes an author can be so focused on getting across the theoretical significance of their study that they forget to show the reader why their research site and objects are lively and in­ter­est­ing in the first place. Or they plunge into a discussion of theory without setting up how they got to the theoretical intervention by looking at a­ ctual evidence. One

Give an Overview  •  67

remedy is to begin with a descriptive summary of your research site or objects in order to make them come alive for the reader. Then, ­after establishing the intrinsic interestingness of your topic, you can pull back to some of the larger theoretical themes encapsulated in your findings. You need ­those broader themes in ­there, but they have to be grounded in something that feels impor­ tant to the reader too.

7

Expose the Structure Effective Chapter Summaries

Whereas your proj­ect description is meant to give a broad overview of the book’s argument, methods, scope, and research objects, the chapter summaries—­sometimes known collectively as the “annotated t­ able of contents”—­give your preliminary readers an idea of how the book is g­ oing to come together on the page. The chapter summaries are your chance to show in more detail exactly what the structure of the manuscript w ­ ill be and how the component parts w ­ ill work together to build the overall thesis. This is where editors and peer reviewers ­will look to see if your book can actually pull off all that you said it could in the overview. Your annotated t­ able of contents ­will also include the titles of each chapter, but titles are a big enough deal that I’m ­going to spend a w ­ hole chapter of this guide (chapter 8) on your book and chapter titles, so set them aside for the moment. Much as your book as a w ­ hole needs a strong thesis in order to pull readers in and leave them with something they can take away from your research (as I discussed in chapter 5), each chapter of your book should have its own compelling reason to exist and its own takeaway to offer to readers. The most common m ­ istake I see when authors summarize their book’s chapters is that they just provide descriptions of topics or research findings without advancing chapter-­level arguments. It may help to think of each chapter as having its own mini-­argument that fits under­neath the umbrella of the book’s overarching argument. In your chapter summaries, you can come right out and say “This chapter argues X,” or “This chapter advances the book’s overall thesis by demonstrating Y.” You ­don’t want to leave your reader in any doubt that ­there is a purpose and contribution in each chapter and that each chapter is necessary to complete the book’s full story. If you find yourself struggling to articulate a mini-­argument for each chapter, that may indicate that you need to take a harder look at the chapter drafts or rethink the ­whole structure of the book. ­Don’t feel bad if you run into this prob­lem; it’s one of the reasons the exercise of writing a book proposal is help68

Expose the Structure  •  69

ful in the first place. You might find it productive to return to your summary of the book’s thesis that you drafted for your letter of inquiry and proj­ect description. What are the component points a reader would need to understand in order to be fully convinced of that thesis? It could make sense to devote a chapter to each component point, assembling the evidence and analy­sis that supports each point in its corresponding chapter. In addition to a statement of the chapter’s argument, each chapter summary should also briefly cover the evidence you use to build the argument in that chapter. That means describing the specific research sites, objects, or archives you analyze in the chapter as well as the methods you used to arrive at your conclusions about them. If your methods are the same in each chapter, you ­don’t have to repeat them ­every time. In all likelihood your research objects ­will be slightly dif­fer­ent from chapter to chapter, so t­ here you w ­ ill want to be specific about what readers can expect to see in each individual chapter. The arc or through-­line of your book is a way of visualizing how you get from the first chapter, where you set readers up with the first point they need to absorb in order to understand your thesis; to the m ­ iddle chapters, where you add layers of information and analy­sis to deepen the reader’s understanding of the book’s subject; to the end, where you pull your contribution together and send the reader away with a new or changed perspective. Why is a through-­line impor­tant? It’s what propels readers through the story of your research and compels them to keep reading to learn more. It gives shape to the book’s core argument by laying your points out in a logical sequence that allows readers to mentally incorporate each new piece of evidence and analy­sis without getting overwhelmed or losing sight of the big picture. A book without a clear through-­line and sense of direction suggests that the author ­isn’t quite sure what the greater significance of the research is. This kind of book risks leaving the reader with only a hazy idea of what they should be taking away from the work. You can use transitional language in your chapter summaries to expose the arc of your book across the chapters. You might state how chapter 2 builds on chapter 1, how chapter 3 takes the thesis in a new direction, how chapter 4 resolves a tension raised ­earlier in the book, and so on. Even if your book is or­ga­nized chronologically, still use the chapter summaries to explain why each chapter focuses on the specific moment or period or site that it does and why the demarcations between chapters make sense for your argument. If you can show why your chapters appear in the order they do and how the carefully considered structure of your book w ­ ill pull readers through it from start to finish, you’ll give the impression that you understand the significance of your

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research and how to communicate it effectively. This w ­ ill score you major points with an acquisitions editor. And, of course, it w ­ ill help you have a bigger impact with readers. STEP 11: SUMMARIZE YOUR BOOK’S CHAPTERS

For each body chapter of your book, write a summary that provides the following information: • A chapter title: ­Don’t overthink the titles right now—­anything ­will do. • The topic of the chapter • The argument you make about the chapter’s topic, or the point you want your reader to get ­after finishing the chapter • The objects you analyze in the chapter and methods of analy­sis you use • The relationship between the chapter’s central argument and the book’s overall thesis • The chapter’s relation to other chapters or its place in the overall arc of the book • An approximate word count for the chapter Your proposal should also include summaries for any other chapters or substantive components of the book you intend to include, such as preface, introduction, conclusion, coda or epilogue, and appendices. (­Don’t worry about front and back ­matter like acknowl­edgments, bibliography, and index for the purposes of the proposal.) For all of ­these components, just make sure that your summary explains what you’ll be covering and the purpose the component serves in the book. For example, your summary of the introduction might explain that the intro ­will lay out the book’s thesis and theoretical framework, offer background context on topic A and topic B, and briefly describe your research methods. You ­don’t need to actually provide any of that content in the summary; just give the general, bird’s-­eye view h­ ere. The same goes for your conclusion, so d­ on’t sweat if you h­ aven’t written it yet. You can just say that your conclusion synthesizes the book’s major findings, suggests directions for further scholarly inquiry, offers applications of the research for relevant prac­ti­tion­ers, or what­ever it is you want readers to take away from the book as a ­whole. For several examples of effective chapter summaries, see the sample prospectuses included ­toward the back of this guide. ­Don’t stress out if you ­aren’t yet sure what your book’s arc is or what the organ­izing scheme should be for your chapters. Get something down on paper that makes sense for now, but

Expose the Structure  •  71

know that the structure of your book may evolve as you write and revise it. This is expected and, as long as you stay in communication with your editor, it ­w ill be welcomed as part of the pro­cess of revising your manuscript for publication. Time-­Tested Tips Learn from the Chapter Structures of Other Books in Your Genre

­ ntil writing your own book, you may not have paid much attention to how U other books are structured at the chapter level. You may therefore find it a helpful exercise to create some annotated ­tables of contents for a few already-­published books that you admire. If y­ ou’re writing an ethnography, read recently published (or classic) ethnographies. If y­ ou’re writing a history, read histories, and so on. By summarizing each chapter you read, and by explaining to yourself how it supports the book’s driving thesis and fits into the book’s larger arc, you ­will start to get a sense of how you might do it in your own proj­ect.1 Let the Book’s Thesis Dictate the Chapter Order and Use the Chapter Summaries to Explain the Book’s Overall Organ­i zation

You might experiment with dif­fer­ent chapter ­orders before you land on the one that you find most compelling. Try putting each chapter’s argument on a notecard and physically rearranging the cards as a way to simulate dif­fer­ent permutations of your ­table of contents.2 With each new permutation, see if you can narrate for yourself how each chapter builds on the previous one to advance the overall thesis. You may find that one par­tic­u­lar order of chapters stands out as the most intuitive orga­nizational logic to explain. You may even discover a new, more in­ter­est­ing way to think about your thesis by d­ oing this exercise. Once you can explain the sequence of chapters convincingly, make sure the logic shows clearly in your annotated ­table of contents. You can come out and tell your reader why each chapter is positioned where it is in the book. As you experiment with dif­fer­ent orga­nizational schemes for your book, you may find that the order in which you made your discoveries or initially wrote them up

1. I thank my own editor, Peter Dougherty of Prince­ton University Press, for suggesting this tip. 2. Melody Herr further details this notecard technique in her chapter, “Designing Your Book: The Initial Structure,” in Writing and Publishing Your Book: A Guide for Experts in ­Every Field.

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is not the optimal order for communicating them to your readers. That’s okay, and figuring it out is just part of writing a book that audiences ­will find useful and rewarding to read. Keep the Substance of the Book in the Body Chapters

Introductions and conclusions are chapters for higher-­level summary and synthesis, not newly presented data or fine-­grained analy­sis. By the time your readers get to the book’s conclusion chapter, they ­will expect to be winding down, not integrating new information into the m ­ ental schema t­ hey’ve created while reading the book. If you find that your chapter summary for your intro or conclusion is digging into empirical or analytical material that ­doesn’t appear elsewhere in the book, consider w ­ hether you could integrate that material into a body chapter instead. ­E very Body Chapter Should Advance the Argument

Scholarly authors are often tempted to sneak in a chapter ­after the introduction—­ but before the rest of the body chapters—­that serves as “background” for the reader but d­ oesn’t pre­sent an argument of its own. You may be able to get away with this, but I promise your book w ­ ill be better and more in­ter­est­ing for readers if you can figure out a bigger takeaway from e­ very chapter. As I discussed in chapter 5 of this guide, arguments give readers reasons to engage beyond intrinsic interest in the subject ­matter. A chapter that reads as if you are just getting information out of the way before you can dig into the real substance of your research ­will not hold a reader’s interest for long. If they skip the chapter (or worse, put down the book entirely at that point, never to pick it up again), you’ll have defeated the purpose of your work before ­you’ve even begun. Use the book’s introduction to provide the reader with context for the material that follows; that’s exactly what the introduction chapter is t­ here for. You ­don’t need to offer up e­ very bit of contextual information that you know t­ here ­either. You can weave specific pieces of background knowledge into the body chapters as they become pertinent. Know Your Book Parts

Dif­fer­ent parts of a book manuscript serve specific purposes, and your readers ­will have an easier time knowing what they can expect to find in the dif­ fer­ent parts of your book if you keep with convention. A preface is dif­fer­ent

Expose the Structure  •  73

than an introduction, for instance, and if you propose to include a preface, be sure that the material ­you’re planning for it is appropriate. ­Here are some guidelines: • A preface is usually a personal commentary on the author’s pro­cess in researching and writing the book. It may be where you disclose aspects of your identity or lived experience that are relevant to your proj­ect (though for some authors, such information ­will be more core to the book and therefore appear in the introduction or throughout the manuscript). The preface sometimes includes the book’s acknowl­edgments. Assume that many readers ­will skip the preface, so ­don’t plan to put anything in ­there that they would absolutely need to know in order to understand the book’s argument. • A coda or epilogue is usually something written up late in the publishing pro­cess, possibly about information or events that came to light ­after the rest of the manuscript was finished. It’s not necessarily an adequate replacement for a conclusion, which often looks back over the book’s content and leaves the reader with an overarching takeaway. • An appendix ­houses ancillary information that most readers ­won’t need to know but some readers may be interested in. For example, if you want to talk about methods and methodology at length, it might make sense to put that discussion in an appendix rather than taking up a lot of space with it in the book’s introduction. • A foreword or afterword is an essay written by someone other than the author. It is usually brief and positions the book in larger conversations. For marketing purposes, a foreword or afterword is a way to associate your proj­ect with a big name (and big platform), so only plan to have one if you have someone lined up to write it who is famous and respected among the readers ­you’re hoping to reach. Your scholarly book ­doesn’t have to have any of ­these parts. Introductions and conclusions are common and expected, however. Frequently Asked Questions How Long Should Each Chapter Summary Be?

One paragraph per chapter is fine. If you want to have one paragraph on the material explored in the chapter and another paragraph on the chapter’s argument and function within the arc of the book, then it would be alright to include

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two paragraphs per summary. I ­wouldn’t go on for much longer than a ­couple paragraphs, ­because every­one reading and evaluating your proposal is likely short on time. If you find that you need several paragraphs to explain what’s ­going on in a par­tic­u­lar chapter, that could be an indication that the chapter should become two or more chapters in the book, each with its own scope and purpose. How Many Chapters Should My Book Have?

­ ere’s no one correct answer to this question. As long as each body chapter Th has its own self-­contained argument and makes its own distinct contribution to the larger thesis, you should be good. You could look at the t­ ables of contents of similar books recently published by your target presses to get a sense of the current norms. If you have a wildly dif­fer­ent number of chapters than the average, that’s not necessarily a prob­lem; just be able to explain in your summaries how each of your chapters serves the larger ­w hole of the book. How Long Should the Chapters Be in My Manuscript?

Typical lengths can vary by field. I used to say that eight thousand to ten thousand words was a good length for an academic book chapter b­ ecause I’d read that in multiple advice books, but I’ve found that most of the academic authors I work with write longer chapters than that. And sometimes it takes twelve thousand (or even eigh­teen thousand) words to fully develop a chapter-­ worthy argument. ­Because of this, I have backed off of prescriptivism with authors when it comes to chapter length (though my own editor for this book informs me that “brevity is next to godliness”). More helpful than rules about word count, I’ve found, are guidelines about what to include in a chapter. My first guideline is that each chapter should have a cohesive, bounded argument of its own that supports the book’s core argument. And the only material that should make it into the chapter is material that helps the reader understand that cohesive, bounded argument, without repeating anything. Imposing this princi­ple usually trims a few thousand words out of any bloated chapter draft that crosses my desk. This guideline might even help you figure out how to split one very long chapter into two reasonable-­length chapters, if you recognize that you are actually making two arguments with two separate sets of supporting evidence.

Expose the Structure  •  75

My second guideline is that book chapters should be roughly equal in length. Some variance between chapters is fine, but a chapter that is way longer than its neighbors can indicate an argument that’s gotten away from its author, while an oddly short chapter can expose a lack of supporting evidence or analy­sis. It’s not that chapters of variable lengths are intrinsically bad, but if they raise questions in the minds of your readers about what’s missing or what should have been left out, you might be in trou­ble. If you do have a chapter that feels like an outlier in terms of length, feel f­ ree to explain why that is in your summary of that chapter so as to set the minds of your proposal readers at ease. The introduction and conclusion are often shorter than body chapters, and can vary widely from book to book, so ­don’t trou­ble yourself much about the lengths of ­these. Just say what you need to say and be done with it. Should My Introduction Be Chapter 1 or Should I Start Numbering Only When I Get to the Body Chapters?

If your book’s introduction could stand alone as an essay that readers would come away from with some significant new knowledge and understanding, my preference is to call it chapter 1 and give it its own title (­because ­people might eventually cite it in isolation from the book). If it is a shorter set-up for the rest of the book, then it might make more sense to just call it an introduction and begin numbering and titling with the body chapters. But d­ on’t bother fretting about this right now. Your publisher may have certain norms they follow, and it ­doesn’t ­matter at the proposal stage. The impor­tant t­ hing is to describe what you ­will do in the introduction; you can figure out what to call it l­ ater. Can My Book’s Structure Change between Submitting the Proposal and Finalizing the Manuscript?

I frequently work with authors who have gotten a contract on the basis of a proposal, made it through peer review with the full manuscript, and then decide they need a developmental editor b­ ecause the manuscript ­isn’t working and they suspect maybe the structure needs an overhaul.3 Sometimes I work 3. A developmental editor assists authors with big-­picture m ­ atters of structure, narrative, argument, and voice, and may suggest major reor­ga­ni­za­tion of a text or the addition of new content. Developmental editing is distinct from copy editing, which seeks to bring consistency and clarity to the text as it already appears on the page.

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with ­those authors to develop a new orga­nizational scheme that distributes the content across a dif­fer­ent set of chapters than what they described in the proposal. So yes, the structure of your book can change as you revise it. If you end up with a better book manuscript as a result of throwing out the old proposed chapter scheme, no one ­w ill mind. Just stay in communication with your acquiring editor so they understand your reasoning and your timeline for revision.

8

Invite Readers In Book and Chapter Titles

You may have thought about the title of your eventual book many times. You may have ­imagined saying it to ­people and seeing it printed with your name on the cover. What you may not have realized is that your book’s title is actually “first and foremost a marketing tool” that lets potential readers know your book is for them.1 That means that your title can and should immediately convey to a potential reader your book’s topic, purpose, and style, all in a few words. In your proposal, your title can work to get editors, peer reviewers, and other publishing personnel excited about your proj­ect from the beginning. Cryptic is not a plus for scholarly book titles. Picture someone encountering a link to your book online or happening upon the cover in the book room at an academic conference. You want ­people to see the words of the title and immediately think, “I need to check out that book,” b­ ecause it clearly touches on something they find intriguing. A l­ ittle creativity in the title may pull some readers in. But you definitely ­don’t want someone who is actually interested in your subject ­matter to see your book but not realize they should read it ­because the title is too clever or oblique. In your proposal, especially, a ser­ viceable but boring title is preferable to a title that illuminates nothing about your proj­ect. The eventual title of your book also ­matters for search engine optimization (SEO). You want someone searching on your topic to end up with your book in front of their face. Chapter titles may also get stored as metadata in publishing databases, so craft ­those with care as well. Many academic publishers ­will list a ­table of contents on a book’s webpage, and potential readers ­will peruse it to decide if the book ­will be useful to them. Some publishers are even moving ­toward allowing access to or purchase of individual chapters, so it makes sense to use chapter titles to give readers as much information as you possibly can about what they can expect to find inside the book. 1. William P. Sisler, “­You’re the Author Now,” 21.

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If your book title can give away not only the subject ­matter of the book, but also your approach to that subject ­matter, your proj­ect ­will be even easier to make sense of for your editor and peer reviewers. If you craft your chapter titles well, your t­ able of contents alone can convey the progression of your argument across the book and how you use each chapter to support the overall thesis, reinforcing readers’ confidence that your book ­w ill be coherent and compelling. The working title alone w ­ on’t sell your book to a publisher or kill your chances at a contract. Your preliminary readers ­w ill prob­ably keep reading your proposal even if the title is vague, boring, or obscure. But a strong title and a g­ reat ­table of contents could go a long way ­toward hooking their interest and signaling to an acquiring editor that ­you’ve thought about how the end user ­will encounter your book product. STEP 12: COME UP WITH WORKING TITLES FOR YOUR BOOK AND ITS CHAPTERS

If you d­ on’t have a title for your book yet, or you a­ ren’t satisfied with the title you do have, go back over the written materials y­ ou’ve already generated about your book proj­ect. Start with your one-­liner and summary of the book’s argument. Look closely at wherever it is that you lay out the big idea driving your book. Then read through your ­whole proj­ect description and your chapter summaries. Circle all the terms that seem like keywords for your book. Then try vari­ous arrangements of ­these words ­until you arrive at a few titles and subtitles that might work. You can repeat this pro­cess with each chapter. These won't be set in stone; t­ here w ­ ill be plenty of time to workshop them with ­actual publishing professionals once your book is ­under contract. ­Here are a few effective book titles to inspire you. Each of them conveys not only the book’s subject m ­ atter but also alludes to the book’s big conceptual contribution: Adventure Capital: Migration and the Making of an African Hub in Paris by Julie Kleinman Divine Variations: How Christian Thought became Racial Science by Terence Keel Fighting Visibility: Sports Media and Female Athletes in the UFC by Jennifer McClearen For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze by Elizabeth Cherry New Money: How Payment Became Social Media by Lana Swartz

Invite Readers In  •  79

We Are Data: Algorithms and the Making of Our Digital Selves by John Cheney-­Lippold You may take some comfort in knowing that most of ­these books started out with dif­fer­ent titles at the proposal stage. Like I said, t­ here ­w ill be time to improve your title before the book is published. ­Here are some effective chapter titles to inspire you as well. They work ­because they tell you what you’ll be learning about in the chapter and hint at how the chapter-­level argument fits into the book’s larger thesis. Hopefully, they also make you want to get your hands on the books and read more. “Fellow Travelers, Treacherous Ground: Strategic Critique in the Black Press Writing of Langston Hughes and Alice Childress” (from Cedric R. Tolliver’s Of Vagabonds and Fellow Travelers: African Diaspora Literary Culture and the Cultural Cold War) “The Death and Resurrection of ‘the Homosexual’ ” (from Taylor G. Petrey’s Tabernacles of Clay: Sexuality and Gender in Modern Mormonism) “The Production and Circulation of Earthquake Knowledge in 1868 California” (from Megan Finn’s Documenting Aftermath: Information Infrastructures in the Wake of Disasters) “Tomboy Heroines on the Manly Frontier” (from Renée M. Sentilles’s American Tomboys, 1850–1915) You can also check out the book titles and chapter titles of recent publications from your target presses. You’ll start to get a feel for the number of words and kinds of structures that are typical in their titles. Use them as a guide, and then try to do even better. Time-­Tested Tips Use Subtitles to Convey Descriptive Information

You may want to go with something creative and catchy for your book’s (or chapter’s) main title. That’s fine, but you can also make good use of subtitles to fill readers in on what ­they’ll be getting. Take the title of Morgan G. Ames’s The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death, and Legacy of One Laptop per Child for example. The main title on its own is an allusion to the book’s big idea that new technologies often win cultural and financial support b­ ecause they and their (White, male) creators are charismatic. But what is the grounded story this book relays to support this big idea? The subtitle tells you: you’ll be learning

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about how the charismatic One Laptop per Child program was created, why it failed, and what we have (and ­haven’t) learned from it in the years since. Just ­don’t try to pack too much information into your subtitle. Too many words could make the title hard to recall for readers and difficult to find in an internet search. Avoid References within Titles That Are Specific to a Par­t ic­u ­l ar Culture or Knowledge Base

Prospective readers should pick up your book wanting to learn more, not be so intimidated or confused by the title that they d­ on’t pick up your book in the first place. Quotations, references, and puns can be poetic and fun, but they can also exclude ­whole swaths of readers who might not get the reference and therefore ­won’t understand why the title makes sense for your proj­ect. Quotations and references can also become dated quickly if you choose something from recent news or pop culture. Specialized vocabulary from your academic discipline—­even just a single jargony word in the title—­can turn readers off and signal that your book ­isn’t for them if they happen to come from outside your field. If your title is a reference to another work of scholarship, it may signal that your book is derivative and has no original contribution to make, which hopefully i­ sn’t the case. Save all of t­ hese kinds of t­ hings for chapter titles (or even section headings) if ­you’re very attached to them. Use Book and Chapter Titles to Reveal Your Argument

Serial lists or pairs of nouns are popu­lar in academic titles but they often only hint at the relationship between t­ hose nouns theorized within the text. For example, my first book was called Lifestyle Politics and Radical Activism. What does the book actually say about the relational dynamic between lifestyle politics and radical activism? It’s anyone’s guess, based on the title. A stronger title that hinted at the core thesis might have been something like Radical Activism and the Limits of Lifestyle Politics. Or Activist Lifestyles: How Subcultures Affect the Reach of Radical Movements. It’s too late for me to improve my book’s title now, but it’s not too late for you. ­You’ve prob­ably toyed with several pos­si­ble titles for your book by this point. And it’s okay if y­ ou’ve landed on a version of the title that follows the format One or Two Words: A List of Two or Three More Nouns or Noun Phrases, Possibly in a Place or Time Period. Many famous, successful books are titled that way. But you might have more luck attracting readers if you take that version as a starting point and push it just a bit further to reveal your a­ ctual argument.

Invite Readers In  •  81

Try putting some verbs in ­there and see what happens. If you do the same for your chapter titles as well, your ­table of contents ­will become a beautiful roadmap to the development of your thesis across the book. Frequently Asked Questions Can My Book Have the Same Title as My Dissertation?

I’d advise against using your dissertation title as your book’s title in your proposal. For one t­ hing, a change in title from the dissertation to the book signifies that you are now thinking about reaching a larger audience, especially if you consider the titling tips in this chapter. Similar titles across dissertations and the books that are based on them can also be problematic for sales, ­because buyers (including librarians who may be preparing to shell out one hundred dollars or more for the hardcover edition of your book) may search for the title, think the two works are essentially identical, and ask themselves, “If we can already access one of ­these through our institution’s ProQuest subscription, why should we pay for the other?” The same princi­ple applies to journal articles or other publications that may precede your book; save your best title ideas for your book and its chapters. Can I Change My Title If I Think of Something Better ­ after I Submit My Proposal?

Absolutely. In fact, be prepared to change it if your editor or the marketing team at your press advises you to, based on their experience and knowledge of what appeals to readers. If they suggest a title change y­ ou’re unsure about, feel ­free to ask them the reasoning ­behind it. I once worked with an author whose book manuscript had a title that I thought captured the thrust of her theoretical intervention perfectly. Her publisher asked her to change it and gave her five title options that I personally thought ­were pretty bland. But their rationale was that, ­because the ethnography had been done in a country outside the United States, her book had the potential to sell t­ here as well, and among nonacademic readers. They w ­ ere therefore hoping to find a title that would appeal across the book’s vari­ous potential audiences. She went with one of the “bland” titles (the original book title became the title of the introduction chapter), and her book has gone on to be very successful and even win awards in multiple fields. W ­ e’ll never know if her original title might have been just as effective on the cover of the book, but I think she was smart to trust the professionals.

9

Put Yourself on the Page Style and Voice

Publishers ­will be evaluating your proposal not just for its content but also for its style. Th ­ ere’s no one correct style in which to write up a book proposal. My blanket advice ­here is to write in the style that best conveys your personal voice so that it feels like you, personally, are showing up on the page.1 You want to make the implicit case that, even if someone e­ lse w ­ ere to write a book about your exact subject m ­ atter, your book would still be unique and appealing ­because of the way ­you’re presenting the information. This ­w ill help to assure an editor that you are the one who should be contracted by their press to write on the topic ­you’re proposing. Editors look for authors who write with strong, distinctive voices that readers ­will want to connect with. As literary agents Susan Rabiner and Alfred Fortunato put it in their guide, Thinking Like Your Editor, editors appreciate proposals that demonstrate that the author ­w ill be “good com­pany” for the duration of the book.2 In writing, as in life, being good com­pany sometimes means being a ­little more fun, sharp, or out­going than you might normally be. It ­doesn’t mean being fake, but it might mean pulling out your best stories and paying close attention to ­w hether you might be boring your companions. I’ve noticed some recurring stylistic issues that interfere with an academic writer’s voice coming through as strongly as it might in a book proposal. Some of t­ hese are common in dissertation writing, which is prob­ably partly why acquisitions editors are so quick to emphasize that their presses do not publish unrevised dissertations. Ensuring that t­ hese quirks are absent from your pro1. I borrowed this chapter title from a line in Scott Norton’s excellent essay, “Bringing Your Own Voice to the ­Table,” in which Norton exhorts academic authors: “What­ever style comes naturally to you—­sincerity or irony, humor or sobriety, drama or understatement—­you need to get some of your own self onto the page” (103). 2. Rabiner and Fortunato, Thinking Like Your Editor, 85.

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posal ­will help you make the case that you can author a book that more than a handful of ­people ­will want to spend time with. Overusing disciplinary jargon: I define academic jargon as language that your reader w ­ ill only understand if t­ hey’ve read the same stuff y­ ou’ve read. Many of your eventual readers ­will have read a lot of the same stuff as you, but your acquiring editor might not have, nor ­will most undergraduate students, or scholars working outside your home field. If y­ ou’re hoping to pitch your book as something that could be used by instructors or marketed to an interdisciplinary audience, using field-­specific jargon w ­ ill undermine that pitch. While specialized language is sometimes merited in discourse that’s meant to take place among members of an in-­group, most scholarly authors who are pitching a book to a publisher want to reach readers who ­aren’t already in their in-­group. (If you think y­ ou’re writing only for expert members of your own subfield, it might be time to consider ­whether your proj­ect would work better as a series of journal articles rather than a book.) Using plain language—­ without too many long, complex sentence constructions—­helps ensure that even nonexperts ­will appreciate the contribution you are claiming to make. This ­will be key to winning the support of editors and other publishing staff, who are educated readers but prob­ably not at your level of expertise on your topic. Overuse of jargon can also be a red flag that you ­haven’t fully digested the secondary source material in your field such that you can put the major ideas into your own words. The good news is that you ­don’t have to excise specialized terms from your book proposal. You can define t­ hose terms as you go, or make sure their meaning is clear from context clues. Shorten some of your sentences so readers have a chance to slow down and pro­cess the new terminology. You’ll not only get to use the precise language y­ ou’ve mastered, you’ll educate your reader and demonstrate to the person evaluating your book proposal that you can write your book in an expansive, welcoming way. Letting other p ­ eople’s ideas take up a lot of room in your proj­ect description: The purpose of the proj­ect description is to describe your proj­ ect. If you are getting into any kind of sustained analy­s is of other scholarship—­and by sustained, I mean more than a few words—­you’ve prob­ably strayed too far from your own proj­ect. If your book builds on or intervenes in ongoing debates or areas of inquiry, you can certainly mention ­those conversations briefly, as a way to situate your work for the editor and peer reviewers. But u­ nless your book is centrally focused on debates or areas of inquiry, you d­ on’t need to do much more than briefly mention them in the proposal.

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Am I saying that you ­shouldn’t credit other scholars when you are extending their ideas? No. Am I saying that you should pretend you owe nothing to previous work and that you are a special genius who came up with ­every idea in your book yourself? No! What I’m saying is that if your readers want to learn about the ­great work that other scholars have done, they should be ­going and reading ­those texts themselves. Acknowledge your influences, cite them appropriately, and move on, so you can show an editor why your work belongs on readers’ shelves among ­those other texts. If you find yourself talking about other scholarship at length in your proposal, take a pause and try to put in your own words why y­ ou’re writing this book. How would you explain it to someone who h­ asn’t done the same reading as you? Put that explanation in the proposal, sprinkling in quick signals to other scholarship only as necessary to ground yourself in the larger conversation. Letting other ­people’s words take up a lot of room in your proj­ect description: This is a more intense form of the above prob­lem. Again, integrating a concept from another work in order to show how you productively extend it is acceptable. But you can do this with a word or two. Extended direct quotation suggests that you ­don’t know how to elegantly synthesize ideas that have come before into an original offering. This could again signal that readers w ­ ill be better served by buying other books instead of yours. Try incorporating only key phrases when you need to reference another body of work, ideally in the context of showing how you are advancing that work in vital ways. Using passive voice to conceal actors, agency, and power: I certainly ­don’t want to make a blanket prohibition of passive voice (which has its appropriate uses), but I have found that academic writers tend to use it to avoid making strong claims about who does what, with what motives, and with what consequences. If you notice passive constructions in your own proposal, ask yourself ­whether ­you’re afraid to come out and say something that some other scholar might disagree with. Or w ­ hether you feel like you d­ on’t have a firm enough h­ andle on what exactly is g­ oing on with the phenomenon y­ ou’re studying. If it’s the former, steel yourself, ­because if you have an argument worth making, I promise you someone is ­going to disagree with it. If it’s the latter, try to figure out what you’d need to do to make yourself more confident in your claims. If it’s neither, and ­you’re just writing in the passive voice ­because it’s a habit or you think it sounds more “academic,” then just stop it right now. Put t­ hose actors and power relations back in t­ hose sentences so ­people know that you stand ­behind what y­ ou’ve written. Using hedgy language to avoid saying anything anyone might accuse of being incorrect: Sometimes, you ­really do need to allow for ambiguity in

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your research, in the name of honesty. But if you hedge too frequently, it can suggest that you have too many gaps in your knowledge or that y­ ou’re overly afraid of criticism. Neither of ­those is a good look for an ostensible expert proposing to write an authoritative scholarly book. If ­you’re not ready to make a strong argument, y­ ou’re not ready to write a book that readers w ­ ill feel they 3 need to read. Try deleting the conditional words in your book proposal draft. Do you like how confident your claims sound now? Can you stand ­behind them with your research? ­Great. That’s a book ­people ­will want. If you recognize any of ­these stylistic issues in your writing, you may not yet be owning your own authority as a scholar. I can speak to this from personal experience. At some point in the pro­cess of revising my dissertation into my first book manuscript, I got so stressed out thinking about all the pos­si­ble ways in which hostile readers would think my arguments ­were wrong that working on the book literally gave me a stomachache. I fi­nally had to just decide that I w ­ asn’t ­going to worry about criticism anymore. Once I took back my book from the imaginary critics in my head, the revision flowed much more easily and I was actually able to finish the ­thing. I was able to produce better, more confident prose as a result as well. If you can figure this out ­earlier in the process—­like when y­ ou’re thinking about your proposal—­you’ll make a better impression on your preliminary readers and have a much less arduous road ahead of you as you complete your manuscript. STEP 13: REVISE YOUR PROPOSAL MATERIALS FOR STYLE AND VOICE

You can now go through the materials y­ ou’ve drafted so far—­especially your letter of inquiry, proj­ect description, and chapter summaries—­and revise them with style and voice in mind. In par­tic­u­lar, keep an eye out for: • Disciplinary jargon • Too much discussion of other scholarship • Too much quotation of other scholarship • Passive voice that conceals actors and power relations • Hedgy language that weakens your authority

3. If you d­ on’t feel ready to make a strong argument with your research—­recently minted PhDs may well feel this way if ­they’ve just finished a dissertation—­try to get some distance from the manuscript. Go out and talk to p­ eople about your findings and observe what parts resonate, give pre­sen­ta­tions, and teach your research to students. With some time and perspective, I bet you’ll find the argument you care about reaching readers with and can stand fully ­behind.

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Then give your drafts a thorough copy edit, looking for mechanical and grammatical errors. If you d­ on’t have an eye for t­ hese kinds of details, ask a friend who does or hire a professional copy editor to look it over before you get ready submit. Time-­Tested Tips Read Out Loud

To figure out w ­ hether the proposal y­ ou’ve written sounds like your au­then­tic voice, read it out loud to yourself. You’ll prob­ably be able to hear when something ­doesn’t sound like you. You could also read it aloud to a friend and ask what they think. Try to step away from “proposal-­writing mode” and try to put yourself in “explaining the proj­ect to a curious acquaintance” mode. If you had to boil down the main points you wanted someone to get from your work—­ without relying on or being ­limited by academic language—­what would you say? Try saying that out loud and recording yourself, or just jotting on some scratch paper or in an app on your phone, not typing in the proposal document itself. You might find that this f­ rees you up enough to get to the point in a way that’s simpler and more engaging, which even academic readers ­w ill appreciate. Enlist Helpers to Identify Exclusionary Jargon

Have a colleague from another field read your draft and circle all the words whose meanings they a­ ren’t one-­hundred-­percent sure of. You might also try imagining one of your students reading the description and making a ­mental note of the terms t­ hey’d stumble over. Remember that you d­ on’t have to remove all specialist vocabulary once you find it. In fact, elegantly defining key terms in the text and reshaping the text so that context clues point the reader to the meaning of the terms are g­ reat ways to show an editor that you possess expert knowledge and the ability and desire to impart that knowledge to readers. Acronyms Count as Jargon Too

Spell out acronyms and initialisms on first usage—­just as you would define an obscure term—or avoid using them altogether. The proposal is a short document, so chances are the term ­won’t come up so often that you c­ an’t spell it out ­every time. Avoid coining your own acronyms for the purposes of the

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proposal, ­because having to recall what they stand for w ­ ill just give your readers extra m ­ ental hoops to jump through when t­ hey’re trying to absorb your contribution. Name-­D rop Your Title

In your proposal materials, speak of your book with confidence, as if you fully expect it to exist someday. Go ahead and spell out the title as much as you can, without it getting weird—­it’s okay to say “my book” or “my proj­ect” sometimes too. Repeating the title helps the editor (and you) see the book as a real, marketable ­thing that should exist in the world. ­D on’t Tell ­P eople What to Think

When writing about your book, ­don’t feel the need to praise or undercut yourself or your proj­ect. Editors (like most readers) prefer to form their own opinion about what t­ hey’re reading. It’s better to let an editor come to the realization that your work is “impressive” or “fascinating” all on their own rather than trying to cudgel them into believing it by saying it yourself. Praising your own work may have a boomerang effect, causing your editor to become a more resistant reader. ­There’s also no reason to put yourself down or position yourself as in any way unworthy of the press’s consideration. Try to use only neutral adjectives to describe yourself and your proj­ect, if you must use adjectives at all. When describing your credentials and platform, just stick to the facts. Facts d­ on’t count as praise; you can and should share positive ­things you have accomplished. Frequently Asked Questions Should I Include Footnotes or a Reference List in My Prospectus?

While some editors d­ on’t mind footnotes and references, o­ thers find them off-­putting and I personally ­wouldn’t take the chance that I was dealing with the former type of editor if I ­were pitching my book. You may find yourself referencing other publications in the proj­ect description, and in ­these cases a reference list would be warranted. But discursive footnotes make no sense in a prospectus, given that the prospectus is meant to be a succinct pre­sen­ta­tion of the information a preliminary reader would need to know in order to assess the contribution and readership of your book. I’ve read proposal drafts in which the authors have included footnotes that mostly seem to be of the “someone e­ lse has written on this topic too, and h­ ere’s

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an in­ter­est­ing factoid” variety. Th ­ ese types of notes are typical of a dissertation but are just distracting in a book. If ­there is pertinent information in the footnotes that your reader needs to know, incorporate it into the main text. If it’s just an aside, consider ­whether a reader would feel rewarded if they flipped all the way to the back of your book to find it. It might seem like you ­don’t need to worry about ­these kinds of ele­ments of the book yet, ­because this is just a proposal, but this document is your chance to demonstrate to presses that you are already thinking about your eventual audience and their experience with your text. Your letter of inquiry should not have references or footnotes, ­because it’s supposed to read like, you know, a letter, from one ­human to another. Does My Proposal Need to Be Perfectly Copy Edited Before I Submit It?

If y­ ou’re able to produce relatively clean copy on your own (i.e., you can correct most of your own grammatical and mechanical errors or find a friend to do it), then ­you’re prob­ably fine. If you have any doubts about ­whether ­there ­will be errors that might distract readers or interfere with the clarity of your ideas, then I’d go ahead and hire a freelance copy editor to polish every­thing up. Some acquiring editors honestly ­don’t care about this kind of ­thing at the proposal stage, but some do, and some peer reviewers can be petty about it. In general, editors like dealing with authors who submit copy that ­doesn’t need a lot of intervention, ­because it makes their jobs easier. Is ­T here a Par­t ic­u ­l ar Style Guide I Need to Follow for the Proposal?

Not r­ eally, just make sure every­thing looks neat and consistent. If you need guidance on grammar and formatting you can use a recent edition of the Chicago Manual of Style. Dif­fer­ent presses ­w ill have dif­fer­ent in-­house style guides, but Chicago is the standard for manuscript preparation in scholarly publishing and ­will be adequate for the purposes of your proposal. If ­you’re more familiar with a style other than Chicago, just go with the one you know best for now.

10

­Really Put Yourself on the Page Your Author Biography and CV

Throughout your proposal, you’ll be using your authoritative voice on your subject ­matter to subtly communicate that ­you’re the right person to write the book y­ ou’re pitching (as I discussed in chapter 9). But you’ll also include a section in your prospectus where you directly spell out what qualifies you to have your name on the cover of this book. For scholarly books, your qualifications are mostly g­ oing to be your academic credentials: your advanced degree in the field in which ­you’re writing, some extended research experience with the topic of your book, previous related publications, and possibly a teaching or research post that relates to your book’s topic and field. (You d­ on’t necessarily have to have all of t­ hese credentials in order to get your book published. More on that in a minute.) The other piece of information you’ll want to share is your “author platform.” This is a publishing term that essentially translates to your ability to move copies of your book based on the fact that you, specifically, wrote it. If you have a presence on social media or a widely read blog, for instance, that might be part of your platform, b­ ecause at least some of the p­ eople who follow you w ­ ill potentially like you enough to want to buy your book when you make them aware that it exists. But you ­don’t have to be a star on the internet to have a decent platform, at least as far as scholarly publishers are concerned (trade nonfiction publishers may have dif­fer­ent expectations). Your name recognition within your academic field is also part of your platform. If you have a rec­ord of presenting at conferences, publishing in journals and other venues, winning awards, and other­wise being active in the acad­emy in a way that gets your name and your research expertise out ­there, that all contributes to your ability to attract readers. ­Those kinds of accomplishments show that ­people recognize the interestingness and value of your work, which bodes well for the appeal of your eventual book to a ­viable target market. Basically, if y­ ou’ve been functioning well enough in academia to stay in it to this point, you prob­ably have a big enough platform to satisfy a scholarly 89

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publisher for a research monograph. Staying in academia ­isn’t a prerequisite to publishing a scholarly book, though. Even if you have left academia or are planning to leave, you can still use your prospectus to pre­sent your platform in a way that shows you understand the channels in which you could promote your book. When you pitch your scholarly book to publishers, you may want to emphasize the ways in which you continue to have access to potential readers: Do you give public talks? Pre­sent at conferences? Write in public-­facing venues? Appear on podcasts? Get quoted as an expert by journalists? ­These are all good ­things to mention ­whether or not you have a full-­time post at a university. Your prospectus w ­ ill include a designated section with information about your credentials and platform. This might be called “author information” or “author biography” in your target publisher’s template. A very condensed version of your author biography ­will appear in your letter of inquiry as well. You may also be asked to submit an author CV as part of your proposal package. If you have time, you may want to create a tailored version of your full CV that highlights the items most relevant to your ability to write and promote your book. STEP 14: WRITE AN AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Some p­ eople say to write your prospectus’s author biography as you would like it to appear on the back of your book. That’s partially good advice, but your editor w ­ ill be looking for certain information about your credentials that you might not put in quite the same way if you ­were writing for public consumption. I would suggest writing two paragraphs for your author biography. The first would be the “public bio” where you list your current post, major previous publications (such as books or high-­profile journal articles), and any significant awards y­ ou’ve received. The second biographical paragraph might include further information such as your social media activity, media appearances, major talks given, and so on, that would additionally attest to your ability to write and promote the book. Remember that facts are not bragging; ­don’t hold anything back that would make you look like someone a publisher would want to be in business with. Once ­you’ve got a good draft of your author bio, go update your faculty webpage and your own website. Also add a brief description of your book proj­ect to your websites and social media profiles, to show editors that y­ ou’re already putting the word out about it, in case they check. It’s a good idea to do this well before you begin pitching the book, b­ ecause acquisitions editors

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sometimes go searching for scholars who could write books on topics ­they’re interested in. If your website mentions your book manuscript in pro­gress, with a brief description of your topic including keywords, that makes it easier for editors to find you and approach you proactively about publishing your work.1 STEP 15: CREATE AN AUTHOR CV FROM YOUR FULL CV

Some publishers ­will ask for an author CV as part of their proposal submission package. This is a truncated version of your full academic CV; it highlights your qualifications to write and promote this par­tic­u­lar book. You can just tweak your current CV to focus on the teaching and research positions, publications, awards, and invited speaking gigs that show you to be a recognized expert on the t­ hing your book is about and among the p­ eople who ­will make up the main audiences for your book. Try to keep your author CV u­ nder three pages, and or­ga­nize it so that the most impor­tant items appear on the first page or are easy to find as an editor is glancing through. Time-­Tested Tips You Prob­a bly Have More Qualifications Than You Realize

If you have a hard time coming up with ­things to say about yourself and your platform, start by listing answers to the following questions. • What is your current position? • Where have you previously been employed? (You can list nonacademic positions if they are relevant to your book’s topic.) • Where did you get your gradu­ate degree(s)? • What major publications do you already have ­under your ­belt? • Have you been asked to review manuscripts for leading journals or book publishers? • Have you published in any well-­known public-­facing venues, such as national newspapers, magazines, or websites? • What conferences have you presented at? • Have you been invited to give talks anywhere? • Have you won awards for your writing or research? 1. I’m grateful to Andrew Berzanskis, se­nior acquisitions editor at the University of Washington Press, for sharing this tip with me and the participants in my Book Proposal Accelerator workshop in summer 2019.

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• Have any journalistic publications quoted you as an expert or written up your work? • Have you had any notable media appearances? • Do you have a professional blog or newsletter with a decent number of readers (in the thousands)? • How extensive is your professional social media presence? Are you known for your posts related to your book’s topic? Once ­you’ve jotted quick answers, select the ones that feel most relevant and impressive and weave ­those into a narrative paragraph or two. If you d­ on’t have answers to most of t­ hese questions, make yourself a to-do list and try to fortify your credentials and platform over the next few months. But d­ on’t compare your biography, CV, or platform to more established scholars ­because you think you ­will be in competition with them for editors’ interest. Editors know how to parse the credentials of scholars at vari­ous stages of their ­careers and they ­won’t be expecting your CV to be as extensive as someone’s who’s been working and publishing for de­cades. Frequently Asked Questions How Can I Convince a Publisher That I’m Qualified to Write a Scholarly Book?

The idea of being recognized as an expert in your field can feel impossibly unattainable to a grad student or fresh PhD. I know, I’ve been t­ here, and I’ve felt like that. But the bar is prob­ably lower than you think. Or, to put a more positive spin on it, you prob­ably hold more authority than you think. In order to convert that authority to a convincing author platform, all you need to do at first is get a few ­people to recognize that ­you’re d­ oing quality work on your topic. Pre­sent at a c­ ouple conferences—­you’re already building a platform. Publish a journal article—­more platform. Substantively contribute to public discussions online—­that’s platform, ­really. The snowball effect can be quick, and once y­ ou’ve said yes to a few t­ hings that get your name out t­ here, the invitations ­w ill keep coming. ­Don’t feel like you have to get accepted to the “best” panels at the biggest conferences or amass tens of thousands of followers on social media. A small network of p­ eople who ­will read your work and tell their friends about it can be just as power­ful as a huge group of p­ eople who vaguely remember who you are. Acquiring editors at scholarly presses are not expecting ­every author they sign to be a celebrity, even within their academic field. On the contrary, an editor may get more excited about discovering some-

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one who is at the start of their writing ­career and just beginning to develop their reputation as an impor­tant thinker. Does the Prestige of My Academic Institution M ­ atter? What If I’m Not Currently Affiliated with an Institution at All?

Editors are aware of the realities of the academic job market. Their primary concern is acquiring books that are intellectually significant and ­will appeal to readers. Neither of t­ hose t­ hings is dependent on where you work. Now, it might be true that having a PhD from a prestigious department or having worked ­under a superstar advisor would be points in your column when the editor considers your credentials to write—­and promote—­the proposed book. But plenty of academic publishers, including university presses, w ­ ill want to work with you if you have a strong proposal and can make a case for the marketability of your book among your target audience. If you encounter an editor who ­doesn’t want to publish your book based on where you are or are not employed, they ­aren’t the right partner for you anyway. ­W ill It ­M atter to U.S. Publishers If I Got My PhD or Currently Teach at an Institution outside the United States?

The impor­tant t­ hing is that you have some recognition and ability to move books among the readers that your target press mainly markets to. In the case of U.S.-­based university presses, t­ hose may be largely U.S. readers, but not necessarily or exclusively. If you can show that you are publishing in venues that your target audience reads, giving talks and pre­sen­ta­tions at the institutions and conferences that your target audience attends, and other­wise keeping your name and research on the radars of your target audiences, you ­will be in fine shape. Your topic may help you ­here too: if it’s something that’s demonstrably in­ter­est­ing to your target audience, your personal location ­won’t ­matter so much. If I Have Life Experience or Professional Credentials from Outside Academia That Are Relevant to Writing or Promoting My Book, Should I Mention T ­ hose?

If you have a platform among activists, industry professionals, policy-­makers, or other nonacademic audiences—­that is, you have channels for reaching ­these kinds of readers to promote your book to them directly—­the marketers at your publisher ­will love hearing about it. If your standpoint as a member of

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a par­tic­u­lar group might give you added authority on your topic in the eyes of your target readership, you can touch on that in your proposal too. For instance, if you are writing a book about w ­ omen who work as professional mixed martial artists, and you are an experienced martial artist yourself, you might take a ­little time—­a ­couple sentences is fine—to mention that in your proposal. You can explain how your own experiences influenced your approach to the book’s subject ­matter, even if you ­don’t make yourself an ­actual figure in the book. Just keep in mind that your author bio w ­ ill give the publicity team pos­si­ble hooks they can use to promote your book, so you may only want to include personal information in your proposal that you ­wouldn’t mind appearing in publicity materials.

11

­Don’t Forget the Details Specs, Status, and Other Ele­m ents of a Complete Proposal Package

If ­you’ve been keeping up with this book’s chapters so far, you should have nearly all the content for your book prospectus drafted and styled suitably. ­There are just a few more ele­ments that go into a complete prospectus and proposal package. Each publisher has their own required components, but this chapter ­will fill you in on the most commonly requested ones, namely manuscript specifications or apparatus, manuscript status or timeline to completion, previous publication of the book material, suggested peer reviewers, a note on simultaneous submission, and a writing sample. Th ­ ese additional components convey to an editor all the information they w ­ ill need in order to fully evaluate a book proj­ect’s viability, so put them in the prospectus if they are asked for. I’ll give you a ­little context about each item in turn, so that you understand what is expected in each case. Manuscript Specifications or Apparatus When deciding ­whether to sign a book, an editor has to consider ­whether the proj­ect is financially ­v iable. A not-­for-­profit publisher (such as a university press) has to at least try to break even; they c­ an’t just take a loss on e­ very book. When weighing projected profits from a book versus projected losses, the press must estimate the cost to produce the book. In addition to marketing, staff time, and other miscellaneous production costs, the profit and loss calculations are based on the following: • Length of the manuscript • Size of the book (literally the dimensions of the object) • Type of printing, paper, and binding • How many copies they expect to print • Copy editing costs • Typesetting costs 95

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• Formatting or redrawing illustrations • Designing the interior • Designing the cover • The royalties they ­will have to pay you • The cost of providing open access (if applicable) • Shipping ­ ere’s also indexing, proofreading, and obtaining permission to reprint any Th copyrighted material that ­will appear in the book, but most scholarly publishers ­will hold you, the author, responsible for the cost of ­those ­things, so they ­don’t necessarily appear in the publisher’s profit and loss calculations. Many of the costs associated with publishing your book a­ ren’t within your control at the time you send in your proposal, but a c­ ouple are: the length of your manuscript and the amount and nature of the art you expect to include. ­These are the t­ hings you are therefore expected to talk about somewhere in your prospectus. When you specify the projected length of your book, you’ll go with a word count rather than a page count, ­because the number of words per printed page can vary depending on a lot of ­factors. This word count should include the main text as well as all notes and references. You can give a range if you ­aren’t totally sure of the final word count yet. Be realistic, ­because you ­don’t want to turn in a finished manuscript that is way over your estimated word count. That puts the editor in a sticky position ­because it can throw their profit and loss calculations off. The press might even tell you they w ­ on’t publish the manuscript ­until you get it back ­under the word count you specified. Also indicate how many images you expect to include, w ­ hether you would like them to be in black and white or color, and ­whether you have or can obtain the rights to reprint them. Maps, ­tables, and graphs count as images, though you may want to specify how many images of each type you ­will have, ­because ­things like maps and ­tables often have to be redrawn when the book goes into production (thus incurring more cost). Plan to include only the images that a reader would absolutely need to see in order to understand the text, b­ ecause more images equals more cost, and an editor may reject a proj­ect out of hand if they anticipate it being too expensive for their press to produce well. Anything you can say h­ ere to assure an editor that y­ ou’re not ­going to run up the production costs is good. If, for instance, you are okay with black and white versus color images, or if some or all of the images could be posted on your own website instead of printed in the book, go ahead and say t­ hose ­things in the prospectus. If you have or can apply for funding to cover the cost of your

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images or any other production costs (this funding is called a subvention), mention that too. Manuscript Status or Timeline to Completion Publishing staff are always thinking months and years ahead to when the books t­ hey’re working on w ­ ill be released. Th ­ ey’re also trying to coordinate peer review, production, and promotion on many titles, all with shifting timelines. For this reason, an acquiring editor ­will want to get a rough idea of when the press might be able to release your book if they choose to move forward with your proj­ect. Asking for information about the status of your manuscript is the way they try to get a ­handle on that at the proposal stage. In your prospectus, you can say what percentage of the manuscript is currently complete and available for peer review should the editor be interested. If y­ ou’re only partially finished with the manuscript, specify the month and year when you expect to have the full manuscript ready for review. If you are just sending a proposal without an accompanying writing sample (­because that’s what your target press’s submission guidelines stipulate), you can also give a date by which you could have one or two sample chapters ready for review. I’ve seen authors give more detail h­ ere—­such as a month-­by-­month revision timeline for the entire manuscript—­but that’s prob­ably overkill. You ­don’t need to give a retrospective timeline breaking down the work y­ ou’ve already done, b­ ecause it’s irrelevant to the press’s concerns at this point. Previous Publication of the Book Material Somewhere in the prospectus you’ll also want to address previous publication of any material that w ­ ill appear in the manuscript. You can give this its own section—­call it something obvious like “Previously Published Material”—or you can fold it into the author biography section. What m ­ atters h­ ere is assuring an editor that you ­don’t have other publications that ­will compete with your book and undermine its sales. If ­there’s an article or dissertation floating around out t­ here with the same title and topic as your book manuscript, an editor may worry that potential buyers, including university librarians, ­won’t see a need to purchase the book. You’ll want to explain how your book manuscript departs from or reframes the previous publications such that they are not in competition with your book for readers. You’ll also want to assure the editor that you have or can get permission to reprint anything that has previously been published, so verify that with the previous publisher before

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you submit the proposal (most academic journals allow reprinting without much fuss). Suggested Reviewers Not all presses ask for a list of suggested reviewers, and your editor ­will prob­ ably have some p­ eople in mind anyway, but it ­doesn’t hurt to provide some names as well. Reviewers should be recognized and trusted experts on your subject ­matter; ideally, they ­will have published scholarly books already themselves. Reader reports are sometimes mined for back-­of-­the-­book endorsements, so if ­there’s someone whose name you’d like to see on the back of your book, you might want to suggest them as a reviewer. D ­ on’t list anyone who might have a conflict of interest, that is, someone whose position or prior relationship with you (like an advisor or close friend) would make them unable or unwilling to give an honest review, ­whether positive or negative. Bear in mind that peer reviews for books d­ on’t work the same way as journals: your reviewers ­will be given your name and biography, b­ ecause part of their job is to give an opinion on ­whether you are the right person to write this book for the press. This means that it behooves you to suggest ­people whom you know to be aware of and positively inclined t­oward your work, if pos­si­ble. Simultaneous Submission I’ve heard conflicting opinions about ­whether to mention the fact that you are submitting the proposal to multiple presses. Some editors feel that you need to be up front about it; o­ thers say that simultaneous submission is assumed ­until you reach the point of peer review, which means that you ­don’t need to address it. It’s prob­ably sufficient to mention it in your letter of inquiry rather than in the proposal itself, but if your target press asks for this information in their proposal template, go ahead and put it in ­there. You d­ on’t need to name the other presses to which ­you’re submitting. Writing Sample The first (but not only) purpose of the writing sample you submit with your proposal is to show the editor and potentially peer reviewers what your writing style is like. Your preliminary readers w ­ ill be looking to your writing sample to see how you craft an argument, marshal evidence, and build a narrative. Some editors ­w ill accept a writing sample that ­doesn’t come di-

­Don’t Forget the Detail • 99

rectly from your book manuscript—­such as a previously published article—­ but I recommend submitting an a­ ctual chapter draft (or drafts of multiple chapters) from your manuscript if you can. That way, any feedback you receive on your writing sample w ­ ill be directly applicable to your work on the manuscript. You can certainly submit a revised sample chapter that is based on a previously published article; just make sure that your sample demonstrates that you understand how book chapters differ from articles in terms of style, structure, and argument. In particular, the connection between the chapter’s argument and the book’s overall thesis should be abundantly clear in your sample. If you are sending sample chapters from your manuscript, indicate somewhere in your prospectus which chapters you are attaching with your proposal. You can do this in your “timeline to completion” section—­when you mention which chapters are already complete you can say which ones you are submitting with the proposal. You could also indicate which chapters y­ ou’re providing as samples in the annotated ­table of contents. STEP 16: ASSEM­B LE YOUR PROSPECTUS

Now is the time to gather all the ele­ments of your prospectus together if you ­haven’t yet done so. Consult the specific ele­ments required by your target presses (which you noted in step 3), then open a new document and paste the appropriate content in it. This ­will include: • Your book’s working title (step 12) and your name • Your proj­ect description (step 10) • A discussion of your book’s target audiences (step 7) • A list of competing titles (step 6) • An annotated ­table of contents with chapter titles (step 12) and summaries (step 11) Then you w ­ ill add the remaining required sections to your prospectus draft and fill in the details. You’ll likely include: • Manuscript specifications/apparatus • Manuscript status or timeline to completion • A description of any previous publications of the material • Suggested reviewers • A note about simultaneous submission • An indication of which chapters are included as samples with the proposal

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You may need to rename some sections and shuffle them around, depending on your target press’s submission requirements. ­You’re almost done. Time-­Tested Tips Double-Check the Publisher’s Submission Guidelines

Most acquisitions editors are already trying to do too much with too ­little time and resources; having to chase down information that ­isn’t where they expect to find it ­doesn’t make their job any easier. It could also portend to them a series of annoyances throughout the review and production pro­cess, perhaps raising a red flag that you ­will be disor­ga­nized and difficult to work with. If the editor was undecided about the appeal of your topic and approach, your demonstration that you a­ ren’t a ­great follower of instructions could tip the scales in an unfavorable direction. Frequently Asked Questions How Long Should My Book Manuscript Be?

As in so many aspects of scholarly publishing, ­there is no one correct answer to this question. Or at least not a definitive, satisfying one. The most accurate answer is that your manuscript should be as long as it needs to be to fully develop and support its central argument. For some books, that’s 40,000 words; for some it’s 150,000. But what writers are usually looking for when they ask this question is a ballpark average range for the kind of book they are writing. This is an eminently logical t­ hing to want to know, b­ ecause publishers, tenure committees, and readers all have preexisting expectations for what a book should be like, and ­there can be real consequences if you deviate too far from convention. ­Here’s a real answer: in my work as a developmental editor for academic authors, the vast majority of manuscripts I encounter fall in the eighty–to ninety thousand–­word range. Books on the more social science side of ­things may be shorter. It’s not unusual for ­those manuscripts to run sixty-­five to seventy-­five thousand words when I get a look at them. When I work on more historical or humanistic manuscripts, ­those can run longer, closer to a hundred thousand words. And ­there certainly are academic manuscripts that run even longer than that. The risk of writing a shorter-­than-­average book is that your peers and the ­people who are in a position to affect your academic ­career may perceive the book as not rigorous or substantial enough to meet professional standards. If

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y­ ou’re writing a book that’s meant to give readers a brief introduction to a topic or some other kind of book that you ­don’t need to count ­toward tenure, this might not ­matter. The risk of proposing a long book is that it requires a greater investment from the publisher ­because it simply costs more to produce a book with more pages. A long book may need a higher price point to cover its costs, reducing the number of sales that can be expected. A book that is both long and expensive may be unwelcoming to the readers you most want to reach. Longer books are also less likely to be translated and picked up by foreign publishers, which may be a concern for you. My advice is to pick a reasonable estimated word count for the purposes of the proposal. Then write the book you want and are able to write, and see how long that turns out to be. If ­you’re wildly over or ­under a reasonable word count—or the length specified in your contract, if you sign the contract before finishing the manuscript—­you can cut ­things in revision or identify a new ­angle on the argument that could generate a new chapter and a deepening of the thesis. (A developmental editor can help with both t­ hese t­ hings, by the way.) Keeping word count at the front of your mind while ­you’re trying to draft the book just creates too much extra pressure on an already stressful pro­cess. How Much of the Manuscript Is Acceptable to Have Published Previously as Journal Articles or Book Chapters?

The pat answer is that none of it is acceptable if you d­ on’t have the right to reprint the material. The more complicated answer is that it prob­ably depends on the editor, the press, your book, and your market. Publishing expert Beth Luey, in her Handbook for Academic Authors, says that most presses d­ on’t want a book with more than twenty to twenty-­five ­percent previously published material.1 That’s prob­ably a safe figure to rely on, but I’ve encountered many exceptions to this rule, so ­there may be wiggle room with your publisher on your par­tic­u­lar book. It’s all in how you pitch it. If you can demonstrate convincingly in your prospectus that the audience for the previously published work is distinct from the audience for the book, or that even ­those who have read your other work ­will find some new value in the book, you’ll be in good shape.

1. Luey, Handbook for Academic Authors, 43.

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Should I Mention That the Proj­e ct Began as My Dissertation?

It’s best to be forthcoming about a manuscript’s origins as a dissertation, ­because it’s easy for an editor to figure out anyway. Mentioning it also gives you a prime opportunity to demonstrate that you understand how a book differs from a dissertation and perhaps to give concrete evidence that ­you’ve used that understanding to substantively revise your manuscript. You can say something like, “Some of the material in the manuscript is adapted from my doctoral dissertation, ‘The Practice of Everyday Politics: Lifestyle and Identity as Radical Activism’ (University of Southern California, 2010), but it has been heavi­ly revised and updated for publication as a book.” You may want to go into more detail about how it has been revised and updated, for example, “I have removed the lengthy lit­er­a­ture review and methodology chapters”; “I have conducted new research for chapters 4 and 5”; “I have reworked the storytelling to focus on examples that readers ­will find engaging and relatable”; “I have written a new conclusion”; “I have given the book manuscript a dif­fer­ ent title to reflect a shift in focus,” and so on. The purpose of including t­ hese statements in your prospectus is twofold: one, you need to show that your book is written for a wider audience than your dissertation was; and two, you need to show that your dissertation manuscript is not in direct competition with your book for readers. If your dissertation is already u­ nder an embargo (which keeps it from being publicly accessible), you can mention that. But you should know that ­there is ­little consensus among acquisitions editors on the issue of dissertation embargoes, so I ­wouldn’t decide to embargo your dissertation solely b­ ecause you believe it w ­ ill make your book proj­ect more attractive to publishers. How Do I Come Up with Suggested Reviewers?

Think about conferences or workshops ­you’ve participated in. ­Were ­there se­ nior scholars on any of your panels or in the audience who seemed interested in your pre­sen­ta­tion? If y­ ou’ve published articles in special journal issues or edited volumes, your fellow contributors could also be good choices for reviewers. It’s okay if you d­ on’t personally know your suggested reviewers at all. You can just pick ­people whose feedback you would appreciate and re­spect. It’s also okay if you do know the reviewers, as long as they ­don’t have a close or supervisory relationship with you or work at your same institution. If you want to suggest a reviewer who has already seen the material you’ll be submitting, that’s fine, but give your editor a heads up. The editor makes the final

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call on reviewers anyway, so it’s not a huge deal if you ­don’t have suggestions to offer. In lieu of names of reviewers, you can discuss with your editor the types of reviewers you’d like to have reports from. Perhaps your book crosses multiple disciplines; you can tell your editor that it’s impor­tant to you to get feedback from ­people in one par­tic­u­lar field or in multiple fields. If you come from an interdisciplinary or area studies perspective and have found that your proj­ect is sometimes misunderstood or unfairly evaluated by p­ eople outside your area, you can let your editor know that so they can take care to select appropriate reviewers. Can I Ask That Someone Not Be Considered as a Peer Reviewer?

You can ask that certain p­ eople not be asked to review your manuscript. I would only make this request if it felt necessary, and keep the list of names as short as pos­si­ble. You ­don’t need to go into detail about academic or personal drama with your editor. A straightforward, “I would ask that X and Y please not be asked to review the work,” ­will get the job done. Which Chapter Should I Use as a Writing Sample to Accompany My Proposal Submission?

The ­simple answer is to choose the manuscript chapter that’s in the best shape when you submit the proposal. If you have more than one chapter to select from, or you have no finished chapters and need to decide which one to start working on, go with the one that best shows off your book’s argument, evidence, through-­line, and audience appeal. ­Don’t pick a lit­er­a­ture review chapter, methods chapter, or a “background context” chapter. (None of ­those chapters should even end up in your book manuscript; they scream unrevised dissertation. All of that information w ­ ill mostly likely be truncated and put into your introduction chapter.) I would also not submit the introduction chapter as a sole sample chapter, ­because the introduction ­will likely repeat much of what appears in your prospectus and w ­ on’t give a proper feel for what most of the book w ­ ill be like. If you have the opportunity to submit multiple sample chapters, a body chapter plus introduction chapter is a good combo, but two body chapters are fine as well. If you ­really ­can’t decide which chapter or chapters would be best to submit, you may want to tell your editor which chapters ­you’re prepared to send and ask which ­they’d prefer to receive.

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How Polished Does My Writing Sample Need to Be?

It’s in your best interest to make the writing sample as polished as you can get it, including complete notes and bibliography. You want every­one who reads it to want more content from you, not question ­whether you can produce something publishable. That said, you should go into your submission with the expectation that you ­will receive suggestions for revision from your editor and peer reviewers, so it’s alright if you feel your sample chapters are not totally finished when you submit them. If you have experience writing for academic journals, a good guideline is that your sample chapters should be about as polished as a first-­round journal submission would be. What Are Some Funding Sources for Subventions that I Can Put t­ oward Images and Other Production Costs?

If you have any personal research funds from your department or university, ­these can often be applied t­ oward t­ hings like publication costs or hiring freelance developmental editors, indexers, and proofreaders. Your school may also offer dedicated publication subvention grants that you can apply for. Outside institutions and scholarly organ­izations often have such grants as well. Do some research online and ask around among your colleagues. Your editor may also be able to point you to funding sources their authors have been successful with in the past. If you ­haven’t yet secured the funding at the time of submitting your proposal, you can indicate in your prospectus that you intend to seek subvention funds and list some pos­si­ble sources before consulting with your editor. What If ­T here’s Something I Want the Editor to Know about My Book or How to Market It but ­T here’s Not a Designated Space for It in Their Press’s Proposal Template?

Go ahead and share it. Create a new section in your prospectus if you have to. It’s always good to demonstrate that you are thinking critically about your book and its market, and information that helps an editor make the pitch to their colleagues that your book is a good investment helps them do their job better. That said, an editor may be annoyed to receive a prospectus that goes on for too long, so add any unrequested information judiciously. If you have substantial additional ele­ments you want to share (such as example images), I would recommend attaching them in a separate file that the editor can look at or ignore at their own discretion.

12

Make the Connection When and How to Reach Out to Publishers

What’s the hardest part about writing and publishing a book? If you asked around, I’m sure you’d get many dif­fer­ent answers. For me—­and for a lot of ­people, I think—­it’s the uncertainty that pre­sents the most trou­ble. Do I have something compelling to say? Am I including all the right information in my manuscript? ­Will my argument make sense to anyone ­else? Am I knowledgeable enough to write this book? What w ­ ill the peer reviewers think of it? Is my proposal good enough to get an editor interested in my proj­ect? In my work as a developmental editor, I try to help authors achieve a greater sense of assurance with re­spect to all t­ hese questions (except the one about peer reviewers, ­because ­there’s just no predicting what ­they’ll say). On the question of ­whether a proposal is good enough to get an editor interested, I can offer two kinds of help. First, ­there’s advice about the content and format of the proposal itself. Just knowing that ­you’re providing all the essential information an editor w ­ ill be looking for and showcasing your proj­ect in the best pos­si­ble light can go a long way t­ oward keeping imposter syndrome at bay. What ­you’ve read in this guide so far ­will put you on the right track in this regard, so I hope ­you’ve found it instructive. The other kind of help I can offer is a crucial reminder: acquisitions editors are p­ eople too. They are idiosyncratic, imperfect weirdos just like the rest of us. Most of them do what they do b­ ecause they like working with authors and ideas and putting new scholarship out into the world. And ­don’t forget that you have something ­those editors need: a manuscript they can package into a book and sell. Publishers c­ an’t stay in business without books to publish, and acquiring editors often have job per­for­mance quotas for the number of books they need to sign per year. The editor y­ ou’re talking to may need you as much as you need them. The fact that editors are ­human is what makes it impossible to remove all uncertainty from the pro­cess of pitching your book. But it should also give you some comfort, ­because a h­ uman connection and a shared fascination with an 105

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in­ter­est­ing prob­lem ­will prob­ably get you much further with editors than a letter-­perfect proposal. You can follow all the tips and templates in the world, but your passion for your proj­ect and your desire to make other ­people (including editors) care about it—­whether you convey it at an in-­person meeting or on the pages of your proposal—­will be what drives your success in scholarly publishing. Remember this princi­ple if you plan to meet with editors before formally submitting your proposal to publishers. You’ll want to talk about your proj­ect, yes, but ­don’t approach it like your dissertation defense or a job interview. If the editor has agreed to chat with you ahead of time, they prob­ably already believe that you have an in­ter­est­ing idea, so you d­ on’t need to spend all your precious time together monologuing in an attempt to impress them. Give the editor a chance to respond to what you say so that you can gauge the degree to which they understand and share your aims. Find out what ­they’re interested in and how ­things work at their press. A conversation with an editor is as much an opportunity for you to determine w ­ hether you think the fit is right as it is for them to do the same. An editor you are meeting for the first time should speak to you as an equal and show you that t­ hey’re willing to learn from you as an expert on your topic. If they d­ on’t, take it as a sign that they may not be a person you want to enter into a working relationship with for the next few years of your life. If an editor is cold to you, impatient, acts as if their press is too good for your proj­ect, or commits microaggressions in the course of your conversation, that’s when you say “Next!” in your head and move on. ­Don’t take their be­hav­ior as an indication of your worth or the value of your proj­ect. ­These ­things do unfortunately happen sometimes, ­because, of course, editors are ­people too. It’s where that scary uncertainty comes in: you ­won’t always know what kind of response you’ll get when you make contact with an editor. But you deserve to work with publishing professionals who treat you and your scholarship with re­spect, and ­there are plenty out t­ here who w ­ ill do just that. Go forth with the intent of making meaningful connections, and you’ll eventually find the editor who’s right for you and your proj­ect. Once an editor is interested in your book and sees its potential, you’ll have won half the ­battle and gained your most impor­tant publishing ally. You and the editor ­will then be on the same team, working together to gather support for the proj­ect among peer reviewers, publishing staff, and the press’s editorial board. D ­ on’t be shy about asking the editor how you can help them make the case for publishing your book. If they have suggestions about what should be added to your proposal, you’d do well to take them. Keep in mind too that

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y­ ou’re not being tested on how much you understand about the publishing pro­cess. Your editor is t­ here to help you, so d­ on’t be afraid to ask what you think might be a silly question or to be forthcoming about your needs and your goals for your book. At the same time, keep in mind that, u­ ntil you sign a publishing agreement, any work an editor puts into developing your proj­ect or coaching you through the pro­cess is done on spec. Th ­ ey’re hoping that it w ­ ill pay off l­ ater when they convince their press to offer you a contract and you accept that contract, but ­there are no guarantees for the editor before that point. I say this so you’ll understand that if an editor is giving you a lot of attention pre-­contract, that indicates a strong interest in your proj­ect. Feel good about it if you find yourself in this position. While you are f­ ree to be talking to multiple presses (and I think you should be ­doing so before you sign with anyone), the ethical t­ hing to do is to be up front about this with any editors you are in talks with and not to exploit the editor’s ­labor too much. They know the risk ­they’re taking when they spend time on an unsigned author, but they may also resent it if you request a lot of attention (such as feedback on your drafts) and then publish elsewhere. Try not to burn any bridges, ­because you never know where you might want to publish a ­future proj­ect. Editors move around within the publishing world, too—­the person ­you’re blowing off this year might be the person you need to impress next year when they get a job at your dream press. When contemplating reaching out to editors, recall what I said in chapter 1: you d­ on’t have to be perfect and your proposal ­doesn’t have to be perfect, ­because most h­ umans d­ on’t expect perfection. Do your best to craft a compelling pitch, then go out ­there and connect with another person who might just see some promise in your proj­ect. STEP 17: PREPARE TO CONNECT WITH EDITORS

­ ecause forming a h­ uman connection with an editor can lay impor­tant B groundwork for pitching your book to them, this step ­will involve introducing yourself to an editor by email and requesting a brief meeting or phone call in which you can chat informally about your proj­ect. This kind of social interaction comes more easily to some ­people than o­ thers, so I’m prompting you to go ahead and draft an email now, even if ­you’re not ready to send it just yet. You can let the message sit in your drafts folder ­until the time is right. This email w ­ ill be somewhat dif­fer­ent than a full letter of inquiry, which you might send when ­you’re ready to submit a full proposal. ­You’re not submitting any materials formally at this point, so you ­don’t need to go into quite as much

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detail as you would in that kind of letter. In this case, you can state your reason for emailing, quickly describe yourself and your book proj­ect, and then wrap up. Make your request clear, show that ­you’re pleasant to work with, and leave it at that. ­Here’s a template you can use as a starting point: Dear Editor [fill in the correct first and last name], [Polite greeting.] I am currently working on a book manuscript, [say the title if you have one], that I think may be a good fit for [name of editor’s press]. In the book, I argue [insert thesis ­here]. [You can mention your topic, archive or site, and methods quickly too—­anything that you think might pique this editor’s interest ­because it fits with what ­they’ve been publishing recently. Try to keep it to a brief paragraph.] I would be interested to hear your thoughts and to discuss possibilities for publication with your press. [Pick one of the following invitations or come up with your own:] If you w ­ ill be attending X conference, I won­der if we might arrange a chat while you are ­there. Are ­there any par­tic­ul­ ar days and times that might be best for us to meet? I ­will be in [editor’s town] [on what dates] and would like to meet if y­ ou’re available. Might you be available for a phone call or video conference in the next few weeks? [Pre­sent some times at which ­you’re available.] Thank you, [Your Name] You can alter this content to fit your own voice and style of course. The impor­tant ­thing ­here is to ask questions that have concrete answers: Can they meet? When can they meet? D ­ on’t leave them guessing as to why ­you’ve contacted them, b­ ecause ambiguous emails are the easiest ones to ignore or forget. If y­ ou’re requesting a meeting on a specific date, try to contact the editor at least four to six weeks in advance. If y­ ou’ve asked to meet up at a conference, the editor might tell you that their schedule is already full but that y­ ou’re welcome to find them in the book exhibit. This is fine, and it ­doesn’t mean they

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d­ on’t like your proj­ect. Thank them and then make a point of seeking them out where they said ­they’d be. Before you actually meet or chat with the editor, be ready to summarize your proj­ect clearly and succinctly. Find that one-­paragraph summary of your core argument and the brief one-­liner you boiled it down to. Practice saying them out loud to anyone who’ll listen. Rec­ord yourself explaining your proj­ect and watch it back (if you can bear to). An oral pitch that sounds rehearsed—­ but coherent—is better than one that rambles and ­doesn’t convey the book’s big idea. You ­don’t want to leave editors with the impression that maybe ­you’re not quite sure what the point of your proj­ect even is. When you meet or talk with an editor, you can begin with your quick summary of your proj­ect, even if you already described your proj­ect to them in an email. The editor w ­ ill have a lot of proj­ects to keep straight so give them a break and ­don’t expect them to remember your name or your book or to connect the dots without a l­ ittle reminder from you. ­After chatting with an editor for a while, you’ll likely experience one of two outcomes. ­Either ­they’ll realize your proj­ect is not a fit for them and tell you that, or t­ hey’ll tell you to send them a full proposal. If you get the first outcome, you can move on to other editors and presses on your target list. If you get the second outcome and ­you’re still interested in the possibility of working with this editor, you can get your full proposal ready to submit (and proceed to step 18). STEP 18: SUBMIT YOUR PROPOSAL

You may already be in contact with an editor who has expressed interest in seeing your book proposal. If that’s the case, the editor w ­ ill likely let you know what materials they want to see, ­whether that’s a prospectus alone or a prospectus accompanied by a writing sample and an author CV. You prob­ ably ­don’t need to send a formal letter of inquiry along with your submission, since you already have the editor’s attention and interest, but if it’s been a while since ­you’ve been in touch with the editor, a full cover letter—­containing the same information you would put in a formal letter of inquiry (see step 5)— wouldn’t hurt. Alternatively, you may have a full proposal ready to go without already having been in contact with an editor. That’s fine! You can go to the website of your target publisher and locate their instructions for submitting a proposal. In most cases you can send a formal letter of inquiry in the body of an email

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directed to the appropriate editor and provide your prospectus, writing sample, and author CV as separate attachments to the email. Occasionally a press’s instructions w ­ ill say to contact an editor with only a letter of inquiry at first and wait for an invitation to submit a full proposal or manuscript. Do what­ever the instructions say ­unless ­you’ve been specifically directed to do something ­else by the editor ­you’re targeting. Before you submit your materials, you can use the checklists I’ve provided ­toward the back of this guide to make sure ­you’ve included all the impor­tant ele­ments and presented them effectively. Once you hit send on your email, you can celebrate having taken a huge step in your publishing adventure. Try to think about other ­things—or keep plugging away at your manuscript—­ while you wait to hear back from editors. Time-­Tested Tips Get the Editor’s Name Right

Can I say again that you should make sure you have the correct editor’s name any time you are sending correspondence to them of any kind? You might be sending nearly identical emails out to multiple editors when you submit your proposal or when ­you’re seeking meetings in advance of your annual disciplinary conference. In that case, verify that you h­ aven’t copy and pasted the wrong editor’s name before you hit send. Use their full name; it’s a ­little formal but better to err on that side in case your target editor is a formal kind of person. I avoid titles and honorifics ­because they introduce the risk of mistitling and misgendering, but if ­you’re absolutely sure you know how the editor likes to be addressed, you can go with that. ­D on’t Forget about Series Editors

In addition to acquisitions editors, you can try to connect with series editors for series y­ ou’re interested in if you have the opportunity. You may even already have series editors in your professional network, in which case, ­don’t be shy about getting in touch to talk about your book. A series editor can become a champion for your proj­ect with the press, and their support w ­ ill likely count for a lot. Keep in mind that dif­fer­ent series work differently. In some cases, the series editor takes an active role in soliciting proposals and shaping manuscripts. In other cases, the series editor is more of a figurehead, and the acquisitions editor is the person you need to make a connection with.

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Use Conversations with Editors to Gather Information about the Submission Pro­c ess and Help You Decide If the Editor and Press Are Right for You

When you chat with an editor, take the opportunity to ask questions in addition to telling them about your proj­ect. You could ask some general questions about how their press works, including how they run the peer review pro­cess, how long peer review normally takes, how long it takes for a book to be published ­after the final manuscript is submitted, what a typical initial print run is and ­whether paperbacks are part of it, what the usual price point for their books is, and what they generally do to market and promote their books. You can also ask about what the editor likes to see in proposals as far as length and writing samples. You can ask w ­ hether the press offers opportunities for open access, supplemental digital content, or par­tic­u­lar accessibility features, if ­those ­things are impor­tant to you. You can ask about the editor’s communication style and how they like to work with authors. If you envision having any specific needs during the publication pro­cess, you can ask about the press’s capacity to accommodate them. You can ask the editor to tell you how they have specifically supported and advocated for authors from underrepresented groups during the vari­ous phases of publication and promotion. You might ask about specific steps the press is taking to recruit and retain staff from groups who have historically been underrepresented in and excluded from scholarly publishing. A good editor ­w ill have ready answers to all of t­ hese questions. If the editor appears flustered or annoyed by any of your questions, that’s useful information in itself. It’s best to know up front who and what ­you’re dealing with so that you can make an informed decision about ­whether to pursue working with this editor and press. If ­you’re getting along with an editor and they seem enthusiastic about your proj­ect, you could ask some more focused questions such as who they see as the target audience for your book, ­whether ­there’s anything you could do to your manuscript to make it more appealing, and how they think your book should be packaged and promoted. You could also ask them to articulate the fit they see between your book and their current offerings. Their answers, and the degree to which they take your questions seriously, ­will tell you something about how invested they are in your proj­ect. B ­ ecause the editor you decide to sign a contract with ­will become your advocate within their press, it’s impor­ tant that you trust them to support you and your proj­ect throughout the publication pro­cess.

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Be Ready with a Hard Copy of Your Proposal, Just in Case

If you have a draft of your proposal that ­you’re ready to share, and ­you’re meeting with an editor in person, I suggest bringing a print copy of your proposal so you can hand it over if the editor asks to see it. I ­wouldn’t shove it into their hands—­some editors hate this—­but you could silently make it clear that you have it with you. Even if your proposal is still an incomplete draft at this point, bring it anyway. This is exactly the time to get preliminary feedback while the stakes are low. The editor may be able to give you some quick advice about revisions you could make before submitting the real t­ hing. If they take a hard copy of your proposal from you at the meeting, let them know that you’ll follow up with an email and send the document electronically as well. If they ­don’t want to see the hard copy at the meeting, d­ on’t take that as a bad sign. They prob­ably just d­ on’t want another piece of paper to carry around and potentially misplace. Ask about Next Steps and Follow Up

If you have any in-­person or phone exchanges with an editor about your book proj­ect, you can end the conversation by asking “What’s the next step?”1 Then follow up the conversation with an email that reviews what you took away from the discussion. This ­will ensure that every­one is on the same page about how to move forward. It also gives you the chance to thank the editor for taking the time to speak with you. Only Send What’s Asked For

Even if y­ ou’re ready to submit your full proposal or manuscript, only send the materials that the editor has requested from you or that are requested on the publisher’s website. If you c­ an’t find specific instructions about what to submit, send only a letter of inquiry to the editor. You can tell them in the letter what ­you’re prepared to send should they be interested in seeing more. Never send a full book manuscript without being invited to do so.

1. This savvy tip came from Dawn Durante, editor in chief at the University of Texas Press.

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Frequently Asked Questions If ­T here Are Multiple Acquisitions Editors at My Target Press Who Might Be Appropriate for My Proj­e ct, Should I Try to Connect with All of Them?

Start by contacting one of the editors and asking if they think they would be the appropriate editor for your proj­ect and, if not, whom they would suggest getting in touch with. If you d­ on’t hear back from the first one within a few weeks, you could move on to the next one you have in mind. Just be sure to mention to the next editor if ­you’ve already contacted anyone at the same press, b­ ecause you ­don’t want to end up in a situation where multiple p­ eople are ­doing the work of evaluating your proj­ect at the same time. This ­will not make anyone happy. You could also reach out to the press’s editorial director or editor in chief and ask which editor they would recommend for your proj­ ect, if ­you’re uncertain. If I’m Interested in Publishing My Book with a Specific Series, Should I Contact the Series Editor or the Acquisitions Editor First?

Even within a single publisher, ­things work differently in dif­fer­ent series, so ­there’s no one answer to this question. The best practice is to follow the instructions on the series’ call for proposals. If t­ here ­aren’t clear instructions, I suggest that you reach out to both the acquisitions editor and series editors to find out how they prefer to receive proposals. If you are unable to get an answer, then you can send a formal letter of inquiry to both the series editor and whoever seems to be the appropriate acquisitions editor. Be sure in your letter to indicate that ­you’ve contacted both the series editor and the acquisitions editor so they can work out between themselves how to h­ andle your proposal and not duplicate any work. Should I Try to Connect with Editors at as Many Presses as Pos­s i­b le before Submitting My Proposal?

At the just-­having-­conversations stage, it’s valid to talk with editors from as many presses as you can. You might meet someone who surprises you with their enthusiasm, or you might find out that editors from the “top” ­couple presses you w ­ ere looking at a­ ren’t a good fit a­ fter all. If you d­ on’t have the capacity or desire for extensive in-­person or virtual meetings, you may want to

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just focus on connecting with your top one or two targets. If ­those meetings go well, you can stay on track with submitting to ­those ­couple of presses and see how the pro­cess plays out t­ here before casting a wider net. An Editor Approached Me to Discuss My Proj­e ct. Their Press I­ sn’t on My Target List, but Should I Talk to Them Anyway?

If you have the time and capacity, take the meeting. You have no obligations to the editor at this point, and they might offer some valuable feedback about your proj­ect. Best case scenario, you’ll discover that this press and editor are a ­great fit a­ fter all and you can add them to your target list. Keep in mind that just ­because an editor shows interest (or was the first to show interest) in your proj­ ect, you d­ on’t owe them anything, other than respectful and transparent communication. Pursue the presses that you feel are the best fits for your proj­ect. Should I Try to Reconnect with an Editor Who Has Declined My Proj­e ct or Not Responded to Me Previously?

You might have an editor tell you ­they’re not interested, and then you realize ­later that you failed to explain something crucial about your proj­ect that could alter the editor’s perception of it. Or an editor may seem interested, but then you let a lot of time go by before coming back with a proposal. Or you might send a proposal and just never hear back. In many cases it’s fine to reach back out and give it another shot. Remind them who you are and be honest about what happened (without offering excuses). Then give your new pitch. It’s pos­ si­ble that the editor ­will be annoyed and ignore you, but that ­doesn’t put you in a much worse position than you ­were already. And some editors ­w ill be quite happy to reconsider your proj­ect in light of new information. ­These are extraordinary circumstances I’m talking about h­ ere. If your proj­ect h­ asn’t changed substantially and y­ ou’ve received a clear “No, this i­ sn’t for us,” re­spect that and move on. I Wrote to an Editor to Schedule a Meeting or Submit a Proposal but Never Heard Back. Should I Follow Up? How Long Should I Wait before Following Up?

Some publishers’ websites specify how long you can expect to wait before receiving a response to your proposal submission. If ­there’s no indication on the website, and you receive no acknowl­edgment at all, I would follow up ­after

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two weeks. If you still ­don’t hear anything, try again two weeks ­later and then move on. If the editor does acknowledge they received your materials and then you hear nothing for a while, I would give them a month or so before you ­gently nudge to see if they have a decision on next steps for you. ­There may be reasonable explanations for why they ­aren’t getting back to you that have nothing to do with w ­ hether they like your proj­ect or not, especially if their press tends to receive a high volume of submissions or they must wait on responses from colleagues or reviewers. Silence or brevity from an editor should not be interpreted as a reflection of the quality of your proj­ect or you as an author. The exception to this advice would be if you contacted multiple editors and got a pretty quick confirmation of interest from some but not ­others. If it turns out that one of the presses you contacted wants to move forward with review of your proposal but you ­haven’t heard from all the editors you contacted yet, you could send a follow-up note to the nonresponders saying that ­you’ve received some positive responses and just want to see w ­ hether they are also interested in talking. The prospect of getting scooped by a competing press may be enough to speed up the pro­cess with them. Do I Have to Know Someone at a Press in Order to Get My Proposal Considered?

A personal connection might help get you noticed initially (with some editors). But if you craft your letter of inquiry and proposal effectively to showcase your proj­ect’s contribution and how it ­will serve audience needs, you have a ­great chance of getting your foot in the door somewhere. Sure, ­there are editors out ­there who enjoy being gatekeepers and only publishing books by academic celebrities and p­ eople they know. You’ll find out soon enough if ­you’re dealing with one of t­ hose, at which point you can move on to the many acquisitions editors who value new voices. Should I Have Someone Else Contact an Editor on My Behalf before I Submit My Proposal?

A note of introduction from a mutual acquaintance can help you get a busy editor’s attention. The editor may put your proposal on the top of their pile and respond to you more quickly as a ­matter of courtesy. But ­they’ll have to genuinely like your proj­ect in order to pursue it any further than that, so an introduction ­will only take you so far. Even if you already have an in with an acquisitions editor or series editor, your proj­ect w ­ ill need the support of peer

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reviewers and other p­ eople at the press to make it to the next level. You can make use of your connections if you have them, but ­don’t let anyone tell you that you need a se­nior scholar to vouch for you in order to get published with a scholarly press. As an alternative to having someone contact an editor on your behalf, you could mention a mutual contact when you reach out to the editor yourself. In your message, you can say something like, “I’m writing at the suggestion of my colleague X, who spoke highly of their experience working with you.” This allows you situate yourself for the editor in relation to someone they know without forcing you to wait for your colleague or requiring any extra l­abor from them, though it’s a good idea to get their permission before you use their name. Be aware that the editor may reach out to them for a word if they want an outside opinion of your work, so only drop names if y­ ou’re certain you would receive their support. When I Connect with an Editor, Should I Mention That I’m on a Deadline for Tenure or Job Applications and Need to Get a Contract as Quickly as Pos­s i­b le?

Some editors ­w ill find it presumptuous of you to dictate their pace (which they may not have much control over anyway), while o­ thers w ­ ill appreciate knowing in advance about any time constraints on your end. If you are in a desperate situation, then you should prob­ably mention it, but try to do so as matter-­of-­factly as pos­si­ble without coming off as if you are demanding that the editor bend to your schedule. Some editors may be willing to write a statement of interest for tenure or search committees in lieu of turning around a speedy contract offer. If your deadline is looming very soon, the editor may not be able to act as quickly as you need, and it ­will be helpful for every­one to know that sooner rather than ­later. If an Editor Rejects My Proj­e ct Right Away, before Having It Reviewed, Does That Mean It’s Not Good Enough and I Need to Work More on It?

A “desk rejection” like this could mean that they already have a very similar book to yours in the pipeline at their press, or that they are taking their publishing program in a dif­fer­ent direction, or any number of other t­ hings that have nothing to do with the quality of and eventual reader interest in your book. If you keep getting quick rejections ­after trying multiple editors, then I would reexamine step 1 of this guide and see if you went wrong somewhere in

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selecting target presses. It might also be time to bring in a freelance developmental editor or publishing con­sul­tant to help you reimagine the proj­ect or get the proposal into better shape. If you r­ eally c­ an’t find an interested press, a developmental editor should also be able to advise you on other publication routes you could take, such as converting your manuscript into journal articles or generating a new book idea that uses some, but not all, of your current material. What If an Editor Responds with Feedback or Criticism about My Proposal?

If an editor takes the time to engage meaningfully with your materials, I would interpret that as a sign of interest. When an editor offers criticism of your proposal or manuscript, the implicit message I would take from it is, “I am interested in publishing this, but I have ideas about how it can be improved. I am drawing on my extensive experience dealing with peer reviewers, editorial boards, and buyers of books. I hope you w ­ ill see this criticism as constructive and engage with it thoughtfully.” Therefore, ­don’t get huffy or assume the editor is rejecting your work. Take time to actually consider the suggestions, and if you still want to explore the possibility of publishing with this editor, make a plan for incorporating some of the suggestions and inform the editor about your plan. You can arrange a call to talk the feedback over, if t­ here are t­ hings you ­don’t understand or are skeptical about incorporating into your proposal. If you think the editor may implicitly be saying, “This ­isn’t for me, but ­here are some ideas for how you could improve it if you want to take it elsewhere,” it’s worth asking explic­itly to see where the editor stands. What Should I Do If the Editor Says They Want to Move Forward with Review of the Proposal?

Ask the editor what the review pro­cess entails and how long they think it w ­ ill take. Find out if they require exclusive submission during review. If they do—­ and you want to pursue ­things with this press—­you’ll have to contact the other presses y­ ou’ve submitted to and tell them to put a hold on the proj­ect while you wait out the review pro­cess at the first press. If the first press d­ oesn’t require exclusive submission, this is a good opportunity to give the other presses a gentle nudge. They may want to work harder to sign your book if they know that another press is already moving forward with review. At the same time, publishing expert William Germano cautions that simultaneous review

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can be risky b­ ecause an editor is less likely to fight for a book with mixed peer reviews when they know the book i­ sn’t an exclusive submission.2 ­There are so many hy­po­thet­ic­ als and unknowns in this kind of situation that I say the best policy is to go with what feels most right to you and just be transparent with every­one. What Should I Do If the Editor Says They Need to See More of the Manuscript before ­T hey’ll Send It Out for Review?

If ­you’re very interested in publishing with the editor’s press, work out a realistic deadline by which you’ll send them the rest of the manuscript and do your best to stick to it. If you realize you’ll miss the deadline, keep the editor posted as soon as you can. ­There’s a lot of flexibility with timelines at this point, b­ ecause contracts h­ aven’t been signed and production schedules h­ aven’t been set, so ­don’t feel bad about saying you’ll need more time. But do keep in touch so that the editor stays connected to and interested in your proj­ect. If you are equally happy to publish with a dif­fer­ent press that might not require as much of the manuscript before review, then you can thank the first editor for their consideration and say that y­ ou’re waiting to hear from other presses. If none of your other target publishers wants to move forward with the materials you currently have ready, you can then reach back out to the first editor and see if they are still willing to look at more materials from you. If they are, you can proceed as outlined above. Is It Best to Have Most of the Manuscript Written before Connecting with Editors and Pitching a Proposal? Or Should I Be Talking to Editors Early on in the Writing Pro­c ess?

This is a tricky question and ­there’s no one correct answer (as usual). The standard practice for trade nonfiction is to shop a proposal and writing sample before writing the full manuscript. This is b­ ecause you w ­ ouldn’t want to invest too much time into researching and writing a book that y­ ou’re not able to sell to an agent or editor, and you’d want to be able to benefit from the input an agent and editor might be able to give you in shaping the book. The calculus for scholarly books is a bit dif­fer­ent. You may be writing this book b­ ecause of your intrinsic interest in the research and your wish to communicate it to o­ thers; you may not (primarily) be motivated by the idea of 2. Germano, Getting It Published, 71.

Make the Connection  •  119

marketability or sales. The complexity of the content may also require you to write much of the manuscript in order to even figure out what you want the point of the book to be. Figuring that out ­will help you write a stronger proposal ­after the manuscript is mostly drafted. Another advantage of waiting to connect with editors ­until you have a good portion of the manuscript written is that you’ll be ready to act if you talk to an editor and they want to have the entire manuscript reviewed right away. Some presses w ­ ill not move forward with review (and a publishing agreement) ­until they have the full manuscript in hand; you risk losing the interest of editors at ­those presses if you contact them way too far in advance of being done with the manuscript. On the other hand, some editors ­will send out a proposal and sample chapters for review and seek a contract for you on the strength of ­those reviews, before the full manuscript is reviewed. This varies by press, and it’s currently more common in some fields than ­others. If a contract in hand is necessary for you for some reason, you may decide to prioritize presses that offer contracts prior to full review of the manuscript. An interested editor may also be e­ ager to help you shape the proj­ect in the most marketable direction. If ­you’re looking for that kind of guidance, approaching early could be better. One more reason to submit a proposal before finishing the manuscript: if ­you’re the kind of person who needs an external deadline in order to complete your proj­ects, knowing that an editor or press is waiting on your completed manuscript might provide the motivation for you to actually finish it and send it off rather than tinkering with it forever. When in doubt, you can contact the editors ­you’re potentially interested in working with and ask them at what point they like to enter the picture. You may not get definitive answers from every­one, but you might just get some helpful information to help you plan your writing and submission strategy. Should I Submit My Proposal to Multiple Presses?

While some publishers and editors w ­ on’t consider proj­ects that are also u­ nder consideration at other presses, the default assumption is that simultaneous submission of proposals—if not full manuscripts—is fair game. Scholarly publishers increasingly recognize that they may have to compete for an appealing proj­ect or author, and thus authors can hang onto a tiny bit of power and self-­determination in this situation. I always urge my clients to talk to multiple publishers when they are preparing to submit their book proposals, even if they eventually decide to submit formally to only one. I often advise them to

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actually submit their proposal to multiple presses as well. H ­ ere are some reasons why: • Dif­fer­ent editors ­will understand your proj­ect in dif­fer­ent ways and treat you differently on a h­ uman level. Interacting with multiple editors helps you see who is the right person to guide your book to publication. Quite often in academia, scholars (especially ­those from oppressed and marginalized groups) are forced to put up with mistreatment and disrespect from ­people in positions of power. In this one instance, you are in the driver’s seat. If you can get interest from multiple editors, you ­will be able to recognize good treatment in comparison to bad and choose your publisher accordingly. • Plans change. You may receive strong interest in your book from a wonderful editor at your dream publisher. And then that person switches jobs, retires, stops answering email, or just drags their feet when it comes time to solicit peer reviews or finalize your contract. Putting your eggs in a few dif­fer­ent baskets ­will make you less vulnerable to ­these kinds of unforeseen complications. • Competition equals speed. If an editor thinks ­they’ll have to compete for your manuscript, they have an incentive to move more quickly through the submission, review, and offer pro­cesses. Th ­ ey’re also more likely to agree to simultaneous review. • Competition equals money (sometimes). If an editor expects you to get multiple offers, they may try to negotiate a higher advance on royalties for you when they seek internal approval to offer you a contract. Having multiple offers in hand ­will also allow you to negotiate better terms for yourself, within limits. Most scholarly authors are not in it for the money, but a ­little cash up front is always nice, and the higher your advance, the more incentive the publisher has to steer marketing and publicity resources ­toward your book. Now, most scholarly publishers ­don’t have huge bud­gets, so d­ on’t expect too much money to be in play ­here. And a press that’s perfect for you and your book in ­every other way may not be able to offer you much financially, so I ­wouldn’t let this be the only f­ actor in your decision. Are ­there any drawbacks to simultaneous submission? One might argue that if you have one press and editor you especially want to work with, ­they’ll be more e­ ager to work with you and more invested in your book if you give them an exclusive. It also takes time and energy to deal with multiple publishers, so

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if you feel that you have a good ­thing ­going with one par­tic­u­lar editor, you may want to play it out and see if they w ­ ill make you an offer y­ ou’re happy with overall. ­There are risks to this strategy (see above—­plans can change), but it has worked for many authors. No ­matter what you decide regarding simultaneous submission, remember that transparency is a must. Mention in your proposal or cover letter that ­you’re submitting to multiple presses if y­ ou’re planning to do so. And if t­ hings happen to move quickly with one of the publishers, update the ­others to let them know where t­ hings stand. You d­ on’t need to name names—­just let them know how the status has progressed at another publisher. An editor who has expressed interest in your proj­ect w ­ ill appreciate knowing if someone e­ lse is proceeding with peer review or if you have an offer in hand already. One more ­thing: when I say simultaneous submission, I mean that ­you’re pitching the same book proj­ect si­mul­ta­neously. The ­actual proposal you submit should be tailored to each publisher. You’ll want to make sure your submission to each publisher conforms to their specific formatting requirements and makes a specific case for the fit between your proj­ect and the press. This is another reason not to target too many publishers in your first round of submissions. Three to five submissions is a good number to shoot for and w ­ on’t make too much extra work for yourself.

13

Keep Your Cool Navigating Reader Reports, Contracts, and Other Decision Points

If find yourself at the stage where an editor has shown interest in your proposal and wants to send your materials out for review by expert readers, take a moment to pat yourself on the back. This is a huge hurdle to clear and you deserve to feel proud of the accomplishment. As I explained in chapter 1, once you have an acquisitions editor on board in support of your proj­ect, you have a power­ful teammate who w ­ ill help guide you the rest of the way through the acquisitions pro­cess, hopefully leading to their publisher making you an offer. Your editor may be ready to send out your proposal and sample materials for review right away, in hopes of offering you an advance contract. Or they may express interest in sending the full manuscript out for review once you have it finished. ­Either way, it’s a serious expression of interest that you should celebrate. Of course, having an editor send your materials out for review is not the last hurdle you must clear. One of the most nerve-­wracking parts of scholarly publishing lies before you at this point: waiting for the peer reviewers’ reports to come back. The culmination of this ­w ill be the suspenseful moment when your acquisitions editor sends you the reports and you get to see what the experts honestly thought of your work. Some editors w ­ ill provide helpful commentary to frame the reports for you, while some w ­ ill only cryptically gesture at what they think of the reports, and ­others ­will just send a terse “see attached” email. If the peer reviewers are so doubtful about the proj­ect that the editor ­isn’t comfortable moving forward with it, the editor should communicate that to you directly so that you can move on to other presses. In all other cases—­even if the reports are overwhelmingly positive—­you’ll be expected to write up a response to the reports. If you have any uncertainty about what your editor expects at this stage, feel ­free to ask for some guidance. Editors deal with peer reviewers and reader reports on a daily basis, and they sometimes forget that authors may have l­ ittle to no experience with ­these ­things. 122

Keep Your Cool  •  123

In order to craft a compelling response to your reader reports, you first need to understand who the audience for your response actually is. Y ­ ou’re not being asked to write up something that your editor ­will take directly back to the peer reviewers themselves (though your editor might check in with the reviewers for a clarifying conversation). What your editor is ­really asking for is a statement they can take to the decision-­makers at their press—­their in-­house committee and the faculty board, if they have one—in support of the case that your book is a solid contribution to scholarship and a sound investment for publication. ­These decision-­makers ­will have access to your submission materials and to the a­ ctual peer reviews, but your response to the reader reports is where you ­will pull it all together, reminding ­those decision-­makers what’s so ­great about your proj­ect and demonstrating how capable you are of bringing it to its full potential. ­Don’t assume that negative or conflicting feedback in the reports means the press ­won’t publish your book. If your editor is giving you an opportunity to respond to the reports, that means they do see the potential in your book and ­they’re ready to defend the proj­ect to their board. Your response is your chance to make the case that you can rise to the potential your editor sees. Your editor may even be testing you a ­little bit to see how you respond to criticism and ­whether you can put ego aside to produce the best book pos­si­ble. The reader reports might make you feel affronted or even angry—­and you have ­every right to ­those feelings—­but responding calmly and tactfully can go a long way ­toward solidifying your editor’s commitment to your book and your chances of actually landing the offer. While peer review is a significant aspect of the scholarly publishing process—­it’s what sets university presses and other academic publishers apart from the rest of the publishing world—­bear in mind that individual peer reviewers ­don’t decide your book’s fate with the publisher. The input of experts in your field does ­matter to the decision of ­whether or not a press wants to take on the publication of your manuscript, yet the word of any given peer reviewer is not final. Your editor w ­ ill have gathered reviews from at least two dif­fer­ent scholars, and if their assessments contradict each other or are other­wise ambiguous, the editor may have sought at least one additional reviewer to come on board, maybe more. The negative opinion of one reviewer is not a death knell for your proj­ect, and even if all the reviewers agree in their criticism of the submitted materials, that d­ oesn’t mean your proj­ect is doomed. If your own response helps your editor demonstrate convincingly that you can satisfactorily address the concerns voiced by the reviewers, your proj­ect may still be in play.

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I advise approaching your “response to the reader reports” as something more along the lines of a “revision plan in light of the reader reports.” Your peer reviewers’ suggestions can genuinely improve your book if you synthesize them thoughtfully. Your job in presenting your revision plan ­isn’t to rebut the points the reviewers made, or to prove that your submission materials ­were perfect all along; your job is to show that you ­will use the reports to strengthen your proj­ect into something that represents a smart investment for the publisher. Providing a concrete, reasonable plan for revision—­without coming off as defensive or ego-­driven—is the way to convince the decision-­makers that ­you’re a good bet. Offers and Contracts Once you submit your response to the reader reports you’ll have to wait again. This time, you’ll be waiting for your editor to get approval to offer you a contract from t­ hose decision-­makers I mentioned e­ arlier. If that offer comes, give yourself another ­great big pat on the back and celebrate. If ­you’re only talking to one press and ­you’re happy with the offer you receive, go ahead and accept it. If y­ ou’re waiting to hear from multiple presses or you need to think over the offer before you accept it, that’s perfectly fine too. You can express your gratitude to the acquiring editor and say that you hope to have a decision for them soon (a time frame might be helpful h­ ere, like “by the end of the month,” for example). If you think you ­will have offers forthcoming from other presses, you can say that and ­factor it into your timeframe for making a decision. You ­don’t need to mention the presses you are waiting on by name. If you receive an offer, ­you’re now in a comfortable position, ­because you know that the press values your proj­ect and sees it as a good investment. If you have multiple offers, your position is that much stronger. This may be your only chance to improve the terms of an offer in your ­favor. If ­there’s anything that’s very impor­tant to you, now’s the time to ask for it in hopes that the press ­will agree to put it in the contract when it’s drawn up. For some ­people, that might be a larger advance on royalties (or any advance at all), though keep in mind that advances in scholarly publishing ­don’t tend to be very large ­unless ­you’re the kind of author who could be publishing with trade publishers and thus ­w ill have to be competed for. If you have another sustaining source of income (such as a secure academic job), I’d advise you not to let the advance become a big sticking point. However, if you think you could use an advance to directly improve your manuscript—­for instance, by hiring a developmental editor, obtaining permission to use copyrighted images, engaging an illustrator

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to produce original drawings or infographics, or having the book professionally indexed or proofread—it might be worth trying to negotiate for some advance funds to cover ­those costs. Other ­things you might discuss or negotiate for at this point: a higher percentage in royalties, more favorable escalators in the royalty rates,1 a voice in design and production decisions, the eventual price point of the book, aspects of the marketing plan that are impor­tant to you, and ­whether some parts of the book ­will be made available for f­ ree (such as a sample chapter posted on the press’s website). Keep in mind that if y­ ou’re dealing with a not-­for-­profit press—­this applies to university presses and some other in­de­pen­dent scholarly presses—­there likely ­will not be a lot of money in play. Also keep in mind that some presses make it a ­matter of policy not to give authors decision-­ making power in ­things like cover design and marketing activities. No m ­ atter how much your editor likes you and trusts your judgment, you may simply not be able to get them (or their press’s contract man­ag­er) to agree to every­thing you want. My advice is to go with the press where you feel the most support for your proj­ect and the editor you think ­will help you achieve the best book pos­si­ble, and let the other stuff be gravy on top if you can get it. And be ready to move on emotionally if you have to give some ­things up in the agreement. Once you have the major terms pinned down with the press you want to move forward with, t­ hey’ll draw up a contract. When you receive it, y­ ou’re still in a position of relative power. You ­don’t just have to agree to every­thing in the contract. Read it carefully and make sure you understand the implications of ­every clause. Ask questions and let your editor know about anything ­you’re not comfortable with. Also take this opportunity (if you ­haven’t already) to find out what kind of editorial assistance your editor or press ­will be available for. W ­ ill the press provide copy editing for the final manuscript? (This is normal.) ­Will you be responsible for furnishing the index yourself? (This is also normal.) ­Will the acquiring editor read your drafts and offer feedback and line edits? (They prob­ably w ­ on’t have the time, but if your editor says they can do this for you, consider yourself special and lucky.) In the end, t­ here prob­ably ­won’t be much room for negotiation on ­these points, so make sure the press’s plans ­aren’t dealbreakers for you before you enter into the contract. For some authors, negotiating the contract can be an aggravating pro­cess. The key t­ hing to keep in mind is that y­ ou’re a professional and y­ ou’re dealing 1. A royalty escalator is an increase in your royalty rate ­after a certain number of copies are sold. The more favorable the escalator, the fewer copies you need to sell before your royalty percentage goes up.

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with professionals. The press is prob­ably not trying to take advantage of you with their contract, but at the same time, they have the resources to hire ­lawyers and contract man­ag­ers to write up agreements that serve their own interests first and authors’ interests secondarily. It’s true that your interests w ­ ill often coincide with ­those of your publisher, b­ ecause y­ ou’re both hoping for the best pos­si­ble reception for your book. But y­ ou’re perfectly entitled to question and even to try to negotiate the terms of your publishing contract. If anyone at your press tries to make you feel bad for sticking up for yourself, that’s not professional and I would proceed with caution. Once the contract is signed and countersigned, celebrate again! (Seriously, celebrate e­ very positive milestone, b­ ecause so many parts of this endeavor are filled with hard work and anxiety, and you deserve to enjoy the handful of moments that are just thoroughly good.) Then prepare yourself for a few more decision points you’ll have to deal with before the book is published. For instance, at some point the press may suggest (or insist) that your book receive a new, more market-­friendly title. They ­will also show you a cover design and perhaps some of the interior illustrations. I’m ­going to address ­these decision points in more specific terms in the next chapter, but the key princi­ple is the same throughout the pro­cess: stay focused on your big-­picture goals for your book and you’ll be fine. STEP 19: RESPOND TO YOUR READER REPORTS

The first ­thing to do is read the reports. Maybe just skim them quickly to get an overall gist. Give yourself a day or two to think ­things over and get some distance from the comments. Then, ­after y­ ou’ve sat with what­ever feelings you need to sit with for a few days, return to the reports with an eye to making a revision plan. I’ll tell you my method for generating a plan from the reports when I do this for authors; feel f­ ree to follow my method or modify it to suit your own style. I like to print the reports out and go through them with a pen in hand, but you can also mark them up digitally. Then I underline or highlight anything that feels significant. When I see something that looks like a suggestion for revision, I make a note in the margin recapping the suggestion in a few words. I ­will note too when one reviewer appears to be contradicting another. When I see something that looks like a nice summary of what the author was trying to achieve with the manuscript, I draw a ­little smiley face (you can go with something less cutesy—­it’s up to you—­but do mark them b­ ecause t­ hese sum-

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maries are one of the most valuable aspects of peer reviews). I also mark examples of praise that the author may want to quote in their response. Some ­people make spreadsheets where they keep track of all the comments made by the reviewers and all the revisions they plan to make before they actually draft the letter. If that works for you, go for it. If your editor has specific instructions for you regarding how to pre­sent your response, follow them. If ­you’re not at all sure what the response letter should look like, you can use this template as a starting point: • Salutation: “Dear [editor’s name] and colleagues:” • An opening statement of gratitude to the editor, publisher, and reviewers for their engagement with your proj­ect: just a c­ ouple sentences, tops. • A recap of the proj­ect and the reviewers’ major positive takeaways: Restate what the reviewers saw as the main contribution(s) of your book; you can quote them directly if you like. (You can refer to the reviewers as Reviewer 1, Reviewer 2, e­ tc.) You’ll also want to summarize the book’s overall proj­ect to remind every­one of your primary vision for the book. Ideally one of your reviewers ­will have given a particularly apt summary of the book’s proj­ect; you can quote that ­here as well. • A summary statement of the major areas of revision you ­will undertake in light of the reviewers’ feedback: You’ll be addressing each of them in more detail as the letter proceeds. • Several more paragraphs, one or two per each major area of revision: For each major area of revision, summarize the recommendations of the reviewers and lay out concretely how you ­will execute the revisions in light of the recommendations. (For more specific detail on how to do this, including how to address conflicting or unhelpful recommendations, see the “Time-­Tested Tips” for this chapter.) • An optional paragraph to address miscellaneous items from the reader reports if ­there’s anything e­ lse you want to say about them. • Another optional paragraph outlining any other major aspects of your planned revision that ­aren’t in direct response to the reader reports and thus ­haven’t come up yet in this letter. • A timeline for your revisions: You ­don’t need to get too specific ­here, but give enough detail to satisfy every­one that your plan is realistic and reasonable. You might detail the order in which you ­will tackle the major areas of revision across the manuscript and how long you expect

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each area to take, or you might lay out a month-­by-­month or chapter-­ by-­chapter plan. Paint the ­whole timeline in broad strokes; a ­couple sentences should do it. Then give a hard date by which you’ll have the full manuscript complete and ready to submit for further review (this may just be internal review by your editor if the original reader reports w ­ ere positive enough). This is the date that ­w ill prob­ably make it into your contract, so ensure that it’s something you can realistically stick to. • A closing. As usual, you d­ on’t have to copy this template’s format exactly, but it’s a pretty reliable formula. The response document serves a very practical purpose, so you ­don’t need to put too many creative embellishments on it. You can look at the sample response to reader reports t­ oward the back of this guide for further inspiration if you need it. Time-­Tested Tips Think Broadly When It Comes to Revision Feedback

When you write up your response to the reader reports, you can group reviewer suggestions into broad categories and respond to t­ hose, rather than responding to each point from the reviewers individually. You d­ on’t have to respond to ­every ­little ­thing the reviewers say. You’ll make a more coherent case for your ability to revise the manuscript by sticking to the big picture and keeping your response around two to three pages (single-­spaced) in length. A big-­picture recommendation might actually be an assemblage of smaller recommendations that came up several times across the reviews. For instance, if Reviewer 1 wants you to add references on one topic in the introduction and Reviewer 2 suggests additional discussion of previous research on a dif­fer­ent topic in chapters 3 and 4, the collective recommendation would be “draw out connections to other scholarship across the manuscript.” Some common big-­ picture categories of comments I tend to see in my clients’ reader reports concern the need for: engagement with existing scholarship; refinement or clarification of the argument; additional supporting evidence or analy­s is; restructuring of the book’s arc; and stylistic revision. You may spot dif­fer­ent patterns in your feedback, and that’s fine. But do try to spot patterns; if only one reviewer commented on something and it feels like it came out of left field, you d­ on’t necessarily have to address it at all.

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Think Concretely When It Comes to What You’ll Do to Improve the Manuscript

For each broad recommendation you identify, summarize the main thrust of the reviewers’ comments and then lay out in practical terms how you plan to incorporate the recommendation into your revision plan. To see how you might do this, consider the following example, which comes from the sample response letter included ­toward the back of this guide: Central to my revision plan is expanding citations in certain places, especially the Introduction. All of the reviewers praised my writing style, with Reviewer 4 noting that I “prefer the easy read narrative flow, rather than complicating the story with theoretical digressions.” In most places, this strategy was successful, and Reviewer 1 even described the manuscript as “flawless.” However, I agree with Reviewer 2’s assessment that I should “show a bit (but not a lot) more generosity in engaging with the work of other scholars.” He emphasizes that “this is mainly an issue in the Introduction, as the author does engage with other scholars by name more regularly in the body of the book.” Reviewer 3 identifies the introduction as the book’s strongest chapter, but also recommends more direct citations of relevant works in order to secure “collegial buy-in.” I w ­ holeheartedly agree, and to this end, I intend to reference directly the works that made my research pos­si­ble, including Herbert’s Videoland, Hilderbrand’s Inherent Vice, Newman’s Video Revolutions, and Larkin’s Signal and Noise. Further, both Reviewers 2 and 3 have generously proposed additional references to strengthen my claims in the book’s body chapters. You’ll want to spend about a paragraph on each major area of revision you plan to undertake. If you need more than one paragraph to address every­thing you want to say about each area of revision, that’s okay, but try to be concise. You want to convince the p­ eople who w ­ ill read this letter that you have a clear, executable plan in place. G ­ oing too far into minutiae h­ ere could raise doubts about w ­ hether you ­will get it done. Show That ­You’ve Seriously Considered Reviewer Feedback, Even If You ­D on’t Agree with It

Be smart about dealing with advice you ­don’t agree with or contradictory advice from the reviewers. The key is to focus on your own plan for revision while strategically incorporating the reviewers’ comments in a way that shows that

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y­ ou’ve seriously considered them as you formulated your plan, even if ­you’re not ­going to follow their advice to the letter. For example, if you receive conflicting advice about changes to the structure of the manuscript, you might respond like this: I also plan to somewhat alter the structure of the manuscript in order to address the m ­ atter of narrative flow. While Reviewer 1 felt that Chapter 6 (on topic X) should be moved up e­ arlier in the t­ able of contents so that readers would be exposed to the information on X before they get to Chapter 3, I believe that Chapter 6 builds organically on the information in Chapters 4 and 5, and thus should remain a­ fter them in the manuscript. However, I agree with Reviewer 1 that some information on X would be helpful e­ arlier in the book, and so I intend to insert a few paragraphs of background on X in the Introduction and possibly in the first ­couple pages of Chapter 3. Or like this: Reviewer 1 praised Chapter 2 for its engagement with existing theoretical frameworks, yet Reviewer 3 noted that Chapter 2 slows down the momentum of the book by dwelling too long on secondary sources. In my revision, I plan to condense the in-­text discussion of secondary sources so that my original analy­sis w ­ ill make up the bulk of this chapter. I ­will retain the references to scholarly conversations appreciated by Reviewer 1, but w ­ ill weave them more organically into the pre­sen­ta­tion of my original analy­sis. I may move some of the discussion of secondary sources into footnotes in order to preserve the narrative flow of the main text. The key is to figure out the crux of the prob­lem identified by the reviewers, and then propose a workable solution that addresses it, even if it i­ sn’t the solution the reviewers specifically suggested. A Response Is Not a Rebuttal

­ on’t use the response letter to explain why the peer reviewers w D ­ ere wrong about vari­ous points. ­Earlier in this chapter, I said that your editor needs to believe you can address the reviewers’ concerns if they have them. That’s a very dif­fer­ent ­thing than “your editor needs to believe the reviewers are mistaken in their concerns.” Your response ­will be much more effective if you use it to demonstrate that you can use the reader reports strategically to improve your manuscript. If ­there are big issues brought up by the reviewers that you just

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d­ on’t agree with, you can respond to ­those as well. But again, be strategic in your approach. It’s not about belaboring how wrong they are, but rather about acknowledging the reviewer’s position respectfully and showing how your vision for the book w ­ ill result in something successful even if it d­ oesn’t totally match theirs. Know that editorial boards and publishing staff d­ on’t respond well to a defensive or hostile tone from authors, however justified your feelings might be. If ­they’re on the fence about your proj­ect, an author response they ­don’t like can tip ­things in the wrong direction for you. Understand and Honor Your Contract

A publishing agreement or contract or what­ever your press calls it is a legally binding document, so make sure you understand what ­you’re committing yourself to before you sign it. I guarantee that ­unless you have a background in publishing law, you w ­ on’t understand every­thing in your publishing agreement initially. You can ask your editor to go through it with you and explain it. However, ­unless your editor also has a background in publishing law, they themselves may not understand every­thing in the contract e­ ither. You can become a member of the Authors Guild, and have their l­ egal staff review your contract. A ­lawyer from the guild ­will write up a review of the contract for you and advise you on which items you may consider pushing back on. (­They’ll do this for f­ ree if you commit to two years of membership in the guild; a yearly membership costs $135 as of this book’s writing.) You’ll likely not be able to get your publisher to change much about the contract, but you are certainly entitled to try, and you might be able to get the ­couple ­things that are most impor­tant to you at least. Frequently Asked Questions Do I Have to Do Every­t hing the Peer Reviewers Tell Me To?

Reviewers d­ on’t get to make decisions about your book, only recommendations. You usually have the power to choose which of the reviewer’s suggestions you’ll take on board and which you’ll respectfully decline, as long as you can justify your plan to your editor. Even if you entirely disagree with a reviewer’s understanding of your proj­ect, you can prob­ably find something to spin into a constructive direction for revision. Say, for instance, that Reviewer 2 says that your research methods are questionable and the study in its current form is entirely unpublishable. Rather than believing that this means you need to redesign your entire study, you can respond with something like:

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I appreciate Reviewer 2’s comments about method, and I believe they indicate that I need to clarify the methodological under­pinnings of my research and why they are appropriate to the research questions at hand. I ­w ill add several paragraphs on this m ­ atter in the introduction chapter. You are an expert; lean on your own expertise when deciding what changes should be made to the manuscript. What If a Reviewer Gives Me a Huge Revision Suggestion and I’m Not Sure I Want to Take It?

Let’s say, for instance, ­you’ve written a history that stops at a par­tic­u­lar year and the reviewer insists that you must extend the narrative an additional thirty years, necessitating months of additional research and writing. This is where you have to return to your vision for the book. Would the suggested change advance that vision? Do you have time and access to the necessary research materials to execute the revision? If ­you’re not sure, you may want to have a frank conversation with your editor about how necessary they think the revision is. If ­after consideration you decide the reviewer’s suggested change is not one y­ ou’re willing or able to make, you can still engage with the suggestion respectfully in your response, laying out convincingly how you can achieve a successful manuscript without ­doing exactly what the reviewer said. Perhaps you can come up with a compromise that allows you to acknowledge and address the spirit of the reviewer’s suggestion without altering your vision for the book. You need to convince your editor and publisher—­not necessarily the reviewer—­that your revision plan is sound. What Should I Do If I Receive Reader Reports That I Believe Are Racist, Sexist, or Other­w ise Reflective of Bias on the Part of the Reviewer?

Scholarly publishers hold a responsibility to ensure the integrity of the peer review pro­cess. Biased reader reports threaten that integrity and should therefore not be acceptable. You should never feel pressured to incorporate “advice” that is rooted, however subtly or unconsciously, in racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, xenophobia, or any other form of ignorance or hate. A good editor ­will recognize such ­things if they appear in your reports—or listen respectfully when you bring your concerns to their attention—­and be able to provide you with guidance on how to address the reports in order to get the best outcome for your book. If your editor ­isn’t receptive to your concerns, it might be

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time to reevaluate w ­ hether you want to continue working with them on your book. If you find yourself in unresolvable conflict with your editor and your book is already ­under contract, you may be able to get your publisher to release you from your publishing agreement so that you can take the proj­ect elsewhere. This kind of scenario is a key reason why researching the culture of a press and its editors—by talking to authors who have published with them previously, by directly asking your editor how ­they’ve handled such situations, and by looking into ­whether the press has a code of conduct in place to address racism and other forms of discrimination—is so impor­tant before you sign a contract with anyone. What Is an Advance Contract? Is It as Real as a Regular Contract?

An advance contract is a publishing agreement that you might be offered on the basis of a proposal and writing sample, before submission of your full manuscript. At nearly all scholarly publishers, this contract is essentially identical to the one that would be offered ­after submission of a full manuscript. So yes, it’s a real, binding contract. The agreement ­will likely stipulate that your proj­ect must be approved by the editorial board when you turn in the full manuscript (possibly a­ fter another round of peer review), but the press is making a genuine commitment to publish your book as long as you fulfill the terms ­you’ve agreed to, i.e., submitting the full manuscript in a reasonable time frame and basically following the plan you laid out in your proposal and response to the reader reports. You can check your contract (and ask your editor) to make sure, but it likely contains language that specifically obligates the press to publish your manuscript as submitted or to provide a written statement of revisions you would need to make to bring it up to their standards of publishability. Can I Sign an Advance Contract with One Publisher and Then Seek a Contract from a “Better” Publisher Once I’ve Completed the Full Manuscript?

If y­ ou’ve signed an agreement with a publisher, you absolutely s­ houldn’t be continuing to shop your proposal or manuscript around or entertaining other offers. I d­ on’t know if a publisher would actually sue you over something like this—­I am not a l­awyer and this is not l­egal advice—­but you w ­ ill certainly burn a bridge or two and potentially harm your reputation if editors realize you a­ ren’t honoring your agreements.

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If for some reason you feel your book ­isn’t being handled well at the press ­you’re ­under contract with—­maybe your editor left and the new editor who inherited your book is ignoring you, or maybe your editor is insisting you take the manuscript in a direction ­you’re not comfortable with—­you may be able to break your contract and seek a new publisher. Bring up your concerns with your current editor or the press’s editorial director and see if they are open to releasing you from your agreement. The threat of an author's wanting to break their contract may work to rouse the press to action and stop neglecting the proj­ect. If you do start feeling out new editors about their pos­si­ble interest in your proj­ect, be transparent about your situation and let them know ­you’re seeking permission to be released from your previous contract so that ­there’s no appearance of double-­dealing.

14

See It Through Permissions, Proofs, and Promotion

My mission in writing this guide has been to help you effectively conceptualize your scholarly book and make a compelling case for its publication. Once ­you’ve navigated peer review and the offers and contract stage (which I hope chapter 13 ­w ill help you do), t­ here remain a number of other tasks that ­w ill bring your book into its fully realized form and get it into the hands of your desired readers. This chapter w ­ ill walk you through t­ hose tasks and point you in the right directions for completing them, with the overarching caveat that your own publisher is a resource you should be consulting for guidance on each of t­ hese topics.1 As with many other aspects of book publishing, editors and other staff often forget that authors are unfamiliar with how ­things work on the press’s end; it’s fine for you to remind them when you need direction on what’s expected and what your responsibilities are. One of the biggest challenges you’ll face a­ fter signing your contract is finishing and submitting your manuscript. This guide is not about writing or proj­ect management, but if you are stuck on t­ hose ­things, ­there are plenty of helpful books out ­there.2 If you got your contract on the basis of a proposal and writing sample alone, you might spend a year or two (or more) finishing the manuscript. The manuscript ­will likely need to be reviewed again in full when it’s finished. That review might happen internally with your acquisitions editor, or your series editors might do the final read, or the manuscript might get sent back out to external peer reviewers. You’ll go through a similar pro­cess to what you did with the proposal, responding to the reader reports and setting forth any remaining revisions you plan to make. If the reports are positive enough, your editor ­w ill prob­ably go ahead and take the manuscript and 1. You can also consult books such as Germano’s Getting It Published and Luey’s Handbook for Academic Authors, which cover ­these topics in greater depths than I go into ­here. 2. If you are looking for a book on academic writing as such, you might check out Hayot’s The Ele­ments of Academic Style or Sword’s Stylish Academic Writing.

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reviews to the editorial board for final approval. If the reports ask for significant revisions, you’ll have to go through the pro­cess again u­ ntil every­thing passes muster. Once the content of the manuscript is approved, you’ll need to prepare the manuscript for production. Your publisher ­will have instructions on how the manuscript should be formatted, including how to submit any images that w ­ ill appear in the book. You’ll also need to provide proof of permission to use any copyrighted material that is to appear in the book, including both images and text. Some of that material may fall ­under the fair use doctrine of copyright law, in which case you w ­ on’t need to secure permission from the copyright owner. Dif­fer­ent publishers interpret fair use differently, so you’ll want to confirm with your editor what kinds of materials they expect you to have permission for.3 Many publishers ­will provide you with a form to keep track of your permissions. Some ­w ill even give you a sample letter to send to copyright holders when you are seeking permission to reprint. If they ­don’t, you can easily find samples on the internet.4 When you submit your manuscript for transmittal to production, your book may be assigned to a production editor. The production editor is a staff member at your publisher who ­will oversee the steps and coordinate with the other professionals (such as copy editors, typesetters, and designers) who w ­ ill take your manuscript from final draft to a­ ctual book. You can endear yourself to your production editor by following their instructions meticulously. If any instruction is confusing to you, ­don’t be afraid to ask for clarification. The production phase is characterized by alternating periods in which you as the author ­won’t have anything to do for weeks or months at a time and then suddenly you’ll need to turn around an urgent task in a ­matter of days. You may want to ask the production editor to go over the timeline with you at the beginning of the pro­cess. Find out what materials t­ hey’ll need from you, when ­they’ll need them, and which deadlines ­aren’t flexible. If you’ll need any accommodations during the production pro­cess, such as use of specific software or expanded turnaround times for certain tasks, let your production editor know as close to the beginning of the pro­cess as you can. Weeks or months a­ fter you submit the final manuscript, you’ll receive it back with suggested copy edits. You might feel like some anonymous person 3. In addition to consulting your publisher’s own guidelines on fair use, you can find helpful information at www​.­fairuse​.­stanford​.­edu. 4. You can also consult books such as Bielstein’s Permissions, A Survival Guide and Stim’s Getting Permission.

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has tampered with your beautiful prose, but in all likelihood, a well-­meaning freelancer has simply done their best to bring the manuscript into conformity with the publisher’s style guide. Once y­ ou’ve signed off on the copy edits, the book w ­ ill be typeset and you’ll be asked to approve the proofs. D ­ on’t just assume every­thing is fine without actually looking at the proofs. Take the opportunity to reread the manuscript to make sure that all names are spelled correctly (­don’t forget the names in the acknowl­edgments section) and that ­there are no typos that could distract a reader. This is a task you can outsource, and in fact you might be better off ­doing so if you can afford to hire a freelance proofreader or if you have a detail-­oriented friend you can barter with. You’ll be so familiar with the text by this point that your eye may miss errors, and you may find yourself tempted to change t­ hings that s­ houldn’t be changed a­ fter the proofs are set. At the same time that you are proofreading, you w ­ ill also likely be asked to prepare the index or have someone ­else prepare it. At some point in this timeline—it varies from press to press—­you may be asked to weigh in on decisions about marketing features of the book like the title or the cover. If the marketers at your publisher feel your book w ­ ill invite more readers in with a dif­fer­ent title, I urge you to trust their experience and expertise on this ­matter. At the same time, feel ­free to express your own preferences. Hopefully your publisher ­will give some weight to your input on the new title, but your publishing agreement prob­ably gives them the final say. The same goes for the cover art. You may be asked to provide some direction for the cover designer. If you have certain images or ele­ments in mind, be ready to explain how they w ­ ill enhance the appeal of your book to your target audience. A ­ ctual examples of covers you like are helpful for inspiration. When you are shown the design for your cover, spend some time with it before rushing to judgment. If you can, print it out at ­actual size and put it up on your bookshelf. Make sure you can read the title and your name (on the front and on the spine) from a reasonable distance. Settling on a title and cover design should be a give-­and-­take pro­cess in which every­one is working ­toward the best outcome for your book. In the end, you do need to feel good about your title and cover b­ ecause you w ­ ill have to proudly promote this book with your name on it for years to come. Speaking of promotion, at some point a­ fter you submit your manuscript, someone from the marketing department w ­ ill ask you to fill out an author questionnaire. If you complete all the steps in this guide when crafting your proposal, you’ll have already started chipping away at this questionnaire in step 1 and step 7. Your publisher ­will likely have a specific form they want you to fill out, so you can start by transferring the information over to the form

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when you receive it. Completing this form w ­ ill feel tiresome and annoying. You w ­ ill be mad ­because you thought you ­were finished with your book and now you have this form to fill out. You w ­ ill thank yourself for having started on it when you wrote your proposal. One set of responses on your questionnaire ­will be aimed at getting you to generate copy that can be used in promoting the book. This includes the copy that ­will appear on the back cover of the book, in the publisher’s cata­log listing and webpage for the book, and on the websites of online book retailers. You might be asked for a fifty-­word summary of the book, a hundred-­word summary, a two-­hundred-­word summary, a five-­hundred-­word summary, or any combination of the above. ­These summaries are extremely impor­tant b­ ecause they may be all a retailer or reader has to go on when deciding ­whether to place an order. You may also be asked to provide keywords and bullet points that capture the book’s significant features. You can borrow a lot of this from your prospectus draft, making any tweaks needed to reflect the evolution of the content from proposal to final manuscript. You’ll also be asked to provide names of p­ eople who could write endorsements—­also known as blurbs—­for your book, which may appear on the book jacket itself, in the publisher’s cata­log, or on the publisher’s website. The names you provide should be ones that ­will inspire confidence from prospective readers and booksellers that your book is worth spending time and money on. That means your book’s endorsers should be known figures in your field or beyond it. The bigger the superstar the better, but such ­people tend to get more requests than they can fulfill. Give your press a mix of names, with most being p­ eople whom you think are realistic gets. If you happen to be friends with someone famous, this is the time to call in a f­ avor from them. In completing your author questionnaire, you may be asked to provide some narrative background about why you wrote the book, surprising ­things you learned while researching the book, or other information that could be used as ­angles for marketing and publicity. Th ­ ese may end up becoming the hooks your press’s publicist uses to try to get coverage of your book in appropriate outlets or the talking points you focus on if you make media appearances. Your questionnaire w ­ ill likely ask you to list publications and venues that might be interested in covering you and your book; your suggestions can be a big help to marketing staff if you have specialized knowledge of your audience and the media they consume. You might list online magazines, podcasts, radio and tele­vi­sion programs, disciplinary publications, orga­nizational newsletters and email lists, alumni magazines, and scholarly journals. Your ques-

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tionnaire may also ask you to list any awards for which you’d like your book submitted. Think broadly and look for awards in your own and adjacent fields that your book might be eligible for. Award submissions are a lot of legwork for the press, but they can also be a g­ reat way to generate awareness of your work and prestige for the publisher if your book is honored. By the time your book exists as a bound object out in the world, you ­will have spent years and years preparing for that outcome. Please d­ on’t squander all that work by balking at letting p­ eople know that your book is available. Find the mode of promotion that feels comfortable for you. If you ­don’t love public talks, get active on social media. If you hate social media, put your efforts into writing an op-ed for a high-­profile blog or print publication. If you feel awkward telling p­ eople to buy the book, suggest instead that they ask their library to buy it. Your goals for your book prob­ably involve some readers somewhere actually reading it, and readers ­can’t read it if they ­don’t know about it. You should hear from the publicist assigned to your book shortly a­ fter the manuscript goes into production. If you ­don’t hear from the publicist, you can ask your editor to arrange a conference between you, your editor, and the publicist. At this meeting, you ­will learn how and where the publicist plans to promote your book. This is your chance to find out what steps you personally can take to support the publicist’s efforts. If t­ here are par­tic­u­lar promotion activities you are unable or unwilling to engage in, politely inform your publicist so that they d­ on’t commit you to d­ oing something you ­can’t do. It’s also very impor­tant that you and the publicist come to clear agreement on which promotion activities you w ­ ill personally take on and which should be left up to them. ­Here are some promotion efforts you might coordinate on with your publicist: • Generating flyers (both physical and digital) that summarize the book’s key features and possibly include a discount code for purchase: You can attach ­these with any messages you send as part of your promotion efforts. • Reaching out to book reviews editors at relevant academic journals to suggest that they review your book: If you have ­people in mind who might be willing to write the review, offer to connect the reviews editor with them and to send them a review copy directly. This saves the reviews editor a few steps and may increase their enthusiasm for publishing the review.

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• ­Doing something special to encourage preorders before the book’s release date: You might post an announcement for your social media followers or members of a specific email list, or you might send direct emails to colleagues and acquaintances. You may be able to get your press to create a discount code you can share with ­people who preorder directly from the publisher’s website. ­Don’t be afraid to ask for this. • Pitching editors at mainstream and professional publications with op-­ eds, essays, or other writings that tie into the content of your book and address newsworthy topics: You’ll want to send your pitches at least a ­couple months before your release date and let them know you have a timely pitch pegged to a new book. If ­you’re unsuccessful on your first try, ­don’t let that discourage you. Keep sending pitches.5 • Contacting any journalists and other public writers or media makers (e.g., podcasters) who you think would be interested in discussing your book or the themes within it: Think especially hard about current events or evergreen topics your work could be pegged to and find the p­ eople who cover ­those issues. You might be the expert a reporter wants to quote rather than the subject of a dedicated book review or profile. You can make yourself available for interviews and offer to send a complimentary copy of the book when advance review copies are available. Keep your press’s publicity person in the loop if you do this so that they can support you with review copies and not duplicate your efforts. • Reaching out to the public relations person at your current department or institution and any of which you are an alum: See if they would like to feature you in any institutional publications. • Reaching out to the events coordinator at your university’s bookstore (if they have one) or a local indie bookseller (if ­there is one) and offer to give a book talk: If ­you’re willing to travel, you might reach out to bookstores in other locations, coinciding with other talks you’ll be giving or conferences you’ll be attending. Program schedules may be locked many months in advance, so try to give as much notice as pos­si­ble. • Reaching out to colleagues who might invite you to give talks at their institutions: Before you go give the talks, coordinate with your 5. For more guidance on pitching, consult resources such as The OpEd Proj­ect at theopedproject​.­org.

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publisher to have copies sent to the talk location so that you can sell them to attendees (possibly at a discount). • Sending a message to your discipline or subject area’s email lists announcing your book and explaining what kinds of courses it could be usefully incorporated into: List the specific features of the book that make it practical and appealing for instructors and students. You can also offer to give guest lectures or Q&As (in person or virtually) for instructors who adopt your book as a course text. Include a preorder link and a discount code if you can get one. • Arranging to do author events with your publisher at conferences or other venues: You could make yourself available for signing copies, taking selfies with readers, and any other creative ideas you think might draw attention to your new publication. • Researching any awards your book might be eligible for and submitting your book for consideration: Gather the submission guidelines and deadlines so that you can stay on top of your publisher to make sure every­thing gets submitted correctly. ­ on’t actually do any of ­these ­things without ­running them by your publicist D first, to ensure that you d­ on’t duplicate or even undermine each other’s efforts. You might need to follow up with your publicist to make sure discount codes are generated, review copies are sent, and award deadlines are met. As long as ­you’re courteous about it, it’s good to stay vigilant to make sure nothing falls through the cracks. In any case, do stay in touch with your publicist throughout the launch of your book and celebrate your successes together. STEP 20: GET A HEAD START ON YOUR PROMOTION EFFORTS

Remember when I said that your publisher’s author questionnaire ­will be a tedious document and you’ll find it excruciating to fill out ­after you thought you ­were all done with your book? You can get ahead of this prob­lem by starting on it well before y­ ou’re preparing to submit your final manuscript. Wherever you are in your publishing timeline at this point—­even if y­ ou’re only just thinking about pitching the proj­ect right now—­I suggest you go open a blank document on your computer and title it “Book Promotion” or what­ever you want to call it. Fill it with the following headings: • Names of prominent ­people (scholars, other public figures) who might provide endorsements • Cover copy material

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• One-­liner • Keywords • Main and secondary audiences for the book • Courses the book could work in • Features that make the book appealing to course instructors • Journalists or other public writers who know you personally or have expressed interest in your work • Impor­tant publications in your field that might cover or review your book • Online venues (including websites, blogs, forums, newsletters, and mailing lists) that might cover your book • Podcasts and other audio/visual media outlets that might cover your book • Contact info for the relevant public relations person at your department or institution (if applicable) • Major conferences you expect to attend in the year of your book’s release • Talks or other public appearances you expect to make in the year of your book’s release • Awards that your book could be submitted for Then, as you work on your prospectus, you can start filling in the document by transferring any material from your prospectus that could work for any of ­these headings. ­Don’t assume anyone at your press ­will recall what you said in your original proposal or letter of inquiry—it ­will have been a long time ago for them—­and ­don’t be afraid to repeat any of that material in your questionnaire. Over the next several weeks or months, whenever a thought occurs to you regarding any of t­ hese items, you can go fill them in. You might randomly hear about a new podcast or read an article online and think, “­people who like this might find my book in­ter­est­ing too.” Add t­ hose venues to your lists. ­There w ­ ill be times when working on your ­actual manuscript ­will become boring or painful. In t­ hose moments, you can close the manuscript file y­ ou’re revising, open up your Book Promotion file, and still have a productive day working on your book. This work w ­ ill come in handy (and make you look very prepared and serious) when it’s time to discuss a promotion plan with the publicist assigned to your book. Time-­Tested Tips Know the Audience for Your Cover Copy

When you are asked to provide summaries of your book in vari­ous lengths, keep in mind the purpose of this prose. The audience for this copy is a prospective reader who is ­under no obligation to keep reading or a prospective book-

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seller who is ­under no obligation to stock your book. ­Don’t make them work too hard to appreciate what t­ hey’ll be getting if they commit to this book. Highlight the valuable contributions your book makes that readers c­ an’t get elsewhere, and make sure it’s clear who w ­ ill benefit from reading your book so that the right p­ eople recognize themselves or their customers as the target audience. D ­ on’t feel that you need to include e­ very detail about the book in the vari­ous summaries y­ ou’re asked to provide, b­ ecause you want to keep the prose light and inviting, not dense with content. You can lift freely from your proposal materials, but do put some care into ­these summaries, ­because they may well end up ­going public with ­little editing. If y­ ou’re unsure about the copy y­ ou’re submitting, ask your editor to take a look or find out if someone in the marketing department w ­ ill be punching it up for you. Some presses provide more assistance with marketing copy than ­others. If you end up g­ oing back and forth multiple times with the staff at your publisher making edits to the marketing copy, try not to get too frustrated. This pro­cess should show you that your press cares about getting the cover copy right so that the book ­will reach more readers. This is the kind of investment authors should want from their publishers. Consider Outsourcing

Many of the tasks you have to complete a­ fter your manuscript is written can be outsourced to freelancers. Their ser­vices ­won’t always come cheap (especially if y­ ou’re looking for experienced professionals), but you may find it worthwhile to spend the money to ­free up your own time and ­mental reserves. ­Things you can hire freelancers to do: • Format your manuscript according to the publisher’s guidelines • Obtain and or­ga­nize your copyright permissions • Draft cover copy • Proofread the typeset proofs • Make the book’s index Your publisher may be able to recommend trusted professionals to help you with ­these tasks. Friends and colleagues may have suggestions as well. Professional organ­izations, such as the American Society for Indexing (asindexing​ .­org), also provide lists of freelancers which you can search by subject specialty. Try to plan several months to a year ahead of when you think you’ll need the task done, and contact potential freelancers as soon as you have an approximate timeline in place. Many of t­ hese professionals are in high demand and book up well in advance.

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Value Your Publisher’s Assistant Staff

I’ve mentioned many of the publishing staff you ­w ill be interacting with as your book traverses the path to publication, but I h­ aven’t talked about assistants yet. ­Because the publishing industry tends to operate on an apprenticeship model, you may find yourself interacting with some personnel at your press who are in the pro­cess of learning the ropes from more se­nior staff. An editorial assistant who works with your acquiring editor may be your point-­ person for many of the crucial tasks and questions that arise for you as your proj­ect develops. Know that assistants and associates are highly qualified professionals themselves and are contributing to your and your book’s success throughout this pro­cess, though much of their work may happen ­behind the scenes and be invisible to you. I hope I ­don’t need to say this, but an author should never, ever be rude or talk down to an assistant (or anyone e­ lse at their publisher, for that ­matter). Stay in Touch with Your Editor

Your contract may give you eigh­teen months or more to finish your manuscript. It’s okay to check in with your editor periodically just to let them know how the writing is progressing or to ask questions. In fact, they ­will prob­ably appreciate hearing from you. If you realize at any point that you w ­ on’t be able to make the deadline in your contract, definitely get in touch with your editor, preferably as early as pos­si­ble. You d­ on’t have to disclose personal issues that may be affecting your timeline, u­ nless you want to share them with your editor. You can just explain that you ­will need more time and propose a new, realistic timeline. If your delays are due to strug­gles ­you’re having with the manuscript itself—­maybe you realized you needed to reor­ga­nize the ­whole ­thing or add a significant chunk of new research—­use your editor as a resource to talk through your writing plans. They may have advice for you that ­will save you time and effort. Remember that your editor is your teammate and wants the same outcome as you, which is a finished book you can both be proud of. Frequently Asked Questions What If the Copy Editor Butchers My Manuscript?

The copy editor assigned to your book w ­ ill prob­ably be a freelancer who w ­ ill work on your scholarly manuscript for not that much pay and no long-­term job security ­because they think your proj­ect is in­ter­est­ing. Therefore, try to see

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them as an ally, not an antagonist. If ­they’re not a subject-­matter expert, they may not be familiar with all the terms of art in your field. Just change any edits you feel strongly about and move on. If you feel your copy editor has somehow been disrespectful to you or your work, or shows a major misunderstanding of conventions in your field, you may want to bring it to your acquiring editor or production editor’s attention for them to deal with and make right. No ­matter what your copy editor does, it’s not your job to fight with or belittle them. If ­you’re committed to certain style ­matters in your manuscript—­such as capitalization of specific terms, use of the singular they, use of identity-­first language versus person-­first language, or any other preference—­you can make a style guide ahead of time and ask that it be shared with your copy editor. As long as ­you’re consistent (and if necessary can explain why ­you’ve made the stylistic choices y­ ou’ve made), your copy editor should re­spect your preferences when they edit your text. You can also request a copy editor with expertise on par­tic­u­lar kinds of issues or experience with par­tic­ul­ar kinds of texts. Your production editor may not be able to find someone who meets all your criteria but they ­will hopefully at least try to accommodate your request. What If My Editor Tells Me My Book Is Getting a New Title or Sends Me Cover Sketches and I Hate Them?

­ ere you’ll need to balance two (ideally not too much opposing) forces: the H informed expertise of publishing professionals who understand what makes a title and cover appealing to prospective book purchasers and your need to feel good about this book that is ­going to sit on your shelf for the rest of your life. This means you should carefully consider it when your editor tells you the sales team thinks the new title w ­ ill help your book sell in international markets, for instance. A professional book designer may have their reasons for using colors, fonts, and images that you ­wouldn’t have chosen yourself. That said, you’ll be the one d­ oing much of the work of promoting your book to readers, so you need to be able to stand ­behind the product proudly. If anything about the title or design y­ ou’re presented with makes you cringe, bring it up to your editor as graciously as you can manage. Acknowledge that time and ­labor has gone into the product y­ ou’re being presented with, and voice your concerns in a mea­sured way. As with your response to the reader reports (discussed in chapter 13), keep the focus on the ultimate vision for your book—­which you and your editor hopefully share—­and how you feel the pre­sen­ta­tion could be brought into greater alignment with that vision.

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It may also help your case to lean on your subject ­matter expertise and your par­tic­u­lar knowledge of your audience. If you see some reason why the title or cover design ­will turn off or even offend an impor­tant readership, make your publisher aware of it. If it’s just that you personally ­don’t like it, you can voice that too, but be diplomatic and try to offer constructive, easily executable suggestions for revision. Should I Make the Index Myself or Hire Someone Else to Index My Book?

Indexing is a specialized skill. It can be learned, but it ­can’t be learned well in the space of three weeks, which is prob­ably about how long your publisher w ­ ill let you spend with the typeset proofs. Your best bet is to hire a professional indexer, which you should arrange for well before you receive the a­ ctual proofs, b­ ecause good indexers book up months in advance. My own position is that a professionally prepared index is an investment worth making ­because indexes can attract readers—­a prospective reader may look through the index to see if the topic t­ hey’re interested in is addressed in your book. Well-­crafted indexes also make your work more citable, ­because other researchers ­will be better able to locate the snippet they vaguely remember being in your book when they go to reference it in their own scholarship. If you ­can’t afford to pay a professional indexer (this would be a good time to look into subvention funds), start reading up on the princi­ples of indexing as soon as pos­si­ble. You can also start generating a list of index entries before you receive the proofs, so that you ­don’t fry your brain trying to do it all in two-­or three-­weeks’ time. Even if you elect to hire a professional, you may still want to make a list of impor­tant terms or concepts to make your indexer aware of before they prepare the index. Should I Urge My Publisher to Advertise My Book or Get It Reviewed in Mass Media Outlets?

Advertising—of any kind—is actually less effective at selling books than authors may think. The cost of advertising a scholarly book in a mainstream venue like the New York Times ­w ill likely not justify the number of sales it would generate. Keep in mind that a publication that targets a specific, well-­ defined audience may be more effective for promotion than a broad venue like a national newspaper or tele­v i­sion program, so be realistic and pragmatic when coming up with a list for your publisher’s marketing team. Publicists

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c­ an’t force outlets to review your work, and they are more likely to be successful in getting your book covered at venues where the audience naturally and significantly overlaps with the intended audience of your book. Is It Gauche to Nominate Myself for a Book Award or Have My Own Publisher Nominate Me?

It is not immodest to ask your publisher to submit your book for awards, or to submit it yourself if you have to. That’s how ­these ­things work. ­Don’t assume that book awards are meritocratic and that your book w ­ ill magically get nominated by someone ­else if it’s any good. You have to be your book’s biggest advocate. How Can I Successfully Promote My Book When I’m Awful at Talking about Myself and Hyping My Own Work? ­ Can’t My Publisher’s Publicity Department Just ­H andle All This?

I’d say to only do as much promo as ­you’re comfortable with, but some p­ eople are uncomfortable with anything that could be seen as self-­promotional. If ­you’re one of ­those ­people, I want to push you to go outside of your comfort zone a ­little bit. Your publisher should be spearheading the publicity efforts, but they have a lot of books to promote and possibly not a lot of resources with which to do it (and by the way, this is true in trade publishing just as much as it is in academic publishing). Ultimately, you are prob­ably very well positioned—­through your own social and professional networks—to get your book in front of ­people who ­will be interested in it. Helping your work find its core audience is a big part of being an author, and an author is what you are now!

 Conclusion Maintaining Perspective

When I first set out to write this guide, I had in mind readers like myself: ­people who feel anxious when facing the unknown; p­ eople who want to do well but a­ ren’t always confident in their own abilities; p­ eople who thrive with concrete directions and a plan of action. If ­you’re that kind of person too, I can tell you that getting a scholarly book published may push all kinds of personal buttons for you. Even the most confident scholar might need a pep talk (or a few of them) along the way to becoming a published author. That’s why I want to end this text by sharing with you some key reminders you can return to when you find yourself in need of encouragement during the proposal and publication pro­cesses. (I personally wrote some of ­these ­things on sticky notes and stuck them to my computer monitor while I was working on this book. They helped.) It’s your book. ­You’re the one who w ­ ill write the book and decide what ends up in it. When it fi­nally gets published, your name w ­ ill be on it. No m ­ atter what other ­people think of it or what changes they suggest you make to it, it’s still your proj­ect. You may feel pulled in dif­fer­ent directions by editors’ or reviewers’ comments, and while it’s smart to remain open to helpful suggestions—­some ­people ­will have g­ reat ideas that ­will improve your book—­ you have to stick to your own voice and vision. No one knows your data or your archive better than you do. And even if they did, no one ­else would have quite the same take on it or the same passion for the ultimate takeaway that ­you’ve landed on in your proj­ect. You know your audience better than anyone. ­You’re not only the expert on your subject ­matter and argument, but you also have experience making that argument land with the p­ eople you hope w ­ ill be your readers. Y ­ ou’ve prob­ably been speaking directly to the kinds of p­ eople you care about reaching with this book for years, w ­ hether it’s been through giving talks, writing articles, teaching students, or participating in online and offline communities. Trust yourself to tell the story of your research in the way it needs to be told to the ­people you want to hear it. If you always keep your audience in mind—­ not the readers that ­you’re scared of, who ­will judge and discount your work, but the readers who are e­ ager and open to learning from your expertise—­you 148

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­ ill be able to stay focused on what your manuscript needs and discard advice w that ­doesn’t speak to your intended readership. ­You’re looking for the right team of partners to produce your book and get it to the readers you care about reaching. To view editors, publishers, and even peer reviewers as collaborators (rather than gatekeepers) is to recognize the power you have as an author. While many scholars and writers are conditioned to want or need praise for their work to validate their own self-­ worth, you’ll have an easier time of this w ­ hole publishing pro­cess if you can let go of worrying about ­whether a given editor or reviewer likes you or your proj­ect. Being liked might ­matter to you on an emotional level, but in terms of your practical goal—­which is to get your book published and in front of your desired readers—­the impor­tant ­thing is to find just one editor and publisher who understand what ­you’re trying to do and have their own compelling vision of how they can partner with you to do it. Remind yourself that in pitching your book, y­ ou’re not seeking permission to put your work out into the world; y­ ou’re seeking the publisher who w ­ ill do the best job of supporting you in that undertaking. Only you can determine your goals for your book. Selecting the right publishing partner for you w ­ ill depend on what you want your book to do. If your goal in writing a book is to advance your academic ­career, then you’ll need to find a publisher who ­will be respected by colleagues in your field, who ­will subject your book to rigorous standards of peer review, and who w ­ ill help you make sure your book’s publication is noticed by enough ­people that it effectively enhances your scholarly reputation as the expert on your topic. If your goal is to have a crossover book that puts your ideas in front of a broader public, you might be looking for a dif­fer­ent kind of publishing partner, one with a proven track rec­ord of promotion and distribution in the commercial markets you want to reach. If your goal is to write a book that students and researchers can find in university libraries and that you can maybe send a copy of to your best friend, you might be looking for a dif­fer­ent kind of publisher still. Revisiting your own goals—­beyond just “get a book published no m ­ atter what”—is empowering, b­ ecause it helps you to keep in mind that y­ ou’re evaluating publishers just as much as ­they’re evaluating your proj­ect. They should be demonstrating throughout the submission and review pro­cess that they can and w ­ ill do what is needed to publish the kind of book you want to publish, what­ever that happens to be. Staying true to your goals for your book ­isn’t just impor­tant when ­you’re looking for a publisher. It’s also impor­tant for maintaining perspective throughout the publication pro­cess and long afterward. I urge you to set goals

150 •   Conclusion

for your book that ­don’t depend on the external approval of academic power-­ brokers, though I know that such approval may reasonably m ­ atter to you very much. Think about what intrinsic qualities of your book would make you feel proud of it and want to share it with o­ thers. Think about the readers who can benefit from your work. This is what w ­ ill keep you ­going when times get tough. Remember: you ­don’t have to be perfect, and neither does your proposal or your book. You just have to have a message to share and readers you hope to share it with.

Steps to Complete

This checklist is ­here to help you plan and keep track of the work you’ll do as you prepare your book proposal package for submission. It's not a rigid to-do list: you can decide to skip some of the items if you d­ on’t find them necessary to your pro­cess. It's also not a ticket to publication: checking off e­ very single item w ­ on’t necessarily guarantee your success. ­The list is just a tool for you to use as you see fit.

_____ Step 1: Identify your target presses _____ Step 2: Research and evaluate your target presses _____ Step 3: Gather submission information for your target presses and summarize your book’s fit _____ Examine proposal templates and submission requirements _____ Identify appropriate acquisitions editors (and series editors if applicable) _____ Write up paragraphs summarizing the fit between your book and each target press _____ Step 4: Generate raw material for your proposal package _____ Step 5: Draft a letter of inquiry to introduce your proj­ect to editors _____ Step 6: Collect a list of comp titles _____ Step 7: Articulate your book’s audience _____ Answer some typical questions from an author questionnaire _____ Write up a paragraph or two about your target audience _____ Step 8: State your book’s thesis _____ Look at your written materials for statements of argument _____ Write up a one-­paragraph summary of the book’s core argument _____ Step 9: Distill a one-­liner for your proj­ect _____ Step 10: Draft a proj­ect description

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_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____

Step 11: Summarize your book’s chapters Step 12: Come up with working titles for your book and its chapters Step 13: Revise your proposal materials for style and voice Step 14: Write an author biography Step 15: Create an author CV from your full CV Step 16: Assem­ble your prospectus Step 17: Prepare to connect with editors _____ Draft an email asking to meet _____ Practice your oral quick pitch _____ Step 18: Submit your proposal POST-­SUBMISSION STEPS

_____ Step 19: Respond to your reader reports _____ Step 20: Get a head start on your promotion efforts

Assessing Your Proposal Materials

When I do book proposal assessments for authors, I d­ on’t use a formulaic checklist, b­ ecause acquisitions editors w ­ ill be evaluating the author’s proposal holistically. A single detail or stylistic quirk ­isn’t likely to make or break the author’s chances at publication, so it d­ oesn’t do to get too caught up in checking boxes. That said, it can be helpful to make sure y­ ou’ve at least considered all the vari­ous ele­ments and expectations of a standard proposal, which is why I’m providing this assessment checklist. You d­ on’t have to do every­thing on this list, but it’s ­here for you if you want to do some basic quality assurance before you submit your proposal package. _____ Have you made your work publicly discoverable so that editors can find it and seek you out if they are interested in soliciting a proposal? _____ Have you updated your vari­ous webpages and social media profiles to provide information about your book proj­ect? _____ Have you been choosing descriptive, search-­engine-­ optimized titles for talks and papers when presenting work related to your book proj­ect? (If not, start now.) _____ Does your proposal pre­sent concrete information about your book in relation to your target press that ­will persuade an editor that you ­haven’t just selected their press at random? _____ Do you clearly articulate your book’s original thesis? _____ Have you spelled out your book’s core argument in a one-­paragraph summary? _____ Have you distilled your book’s argument into a one-­ liner (if pos­si­ble)? _____ Have you prioritized one main argument as the driver for the book? _____ Have you avoided vague words and rhetorical questions that evade actually stating an argument for the book? _____ Do you show how your research ­matters for real ­people who read books? 153

154  •  Assessing Your Proposal Materials

_____ Have you articulated what’s at stake in your book in a way that can be understood by nonexperts? _____ Do you summarize the evidence and methods you use to build the book’s argument? _____ Do you avoid dwelling too long on details of methodology? _____ Do you lay out the general structure of the book? _____ Does your annotated ­table of contents include a summary for each chapter and ele­ment you plan to include in the book? _____ Do the summaries of your body chapters clearly advance chapter-­ level arguments that explic­itly support the book’s overall thesis? _____ Do you use transitional language in your chapter summaries to show how each chapter fits with the ­others and into the book’s larger arc? _____ Are your book and chapter titles clear and descriptive? _____ Do your titles use keywords and verbs to reveal your arguments? _____ If you are claiming to have the first book of its kind, have you provided evidence to support the idea that audiences are waiting for a book like this? _____ Have you included the author, publisher, and year of publication for each comparable book you list? _____ Have you broadly described each comparable book’s topic and approach? _____ Have you broadly described what readers ­will find valuable about your book in comparison to existing books? _____ Have you stayed positive or at least neutral in your framing of comparable books? _____ Have you picked at least one recent comparable book from the press you are targeting? _____ Have you defined your target audiences in ways that ­will be legible to nonexperts who are unfamiliar with the nuances of your topic or field? _____ If you are naming multiple target audiences, have you prioritized them in order of importance? _____ Do you avoid both praising and undercutting yourself in your submission materials? _____ Do you avoid disciplinary jargon and acronyms or provide in-­text definitions when appropriate?

Assessing Your Proposal Materials  •  155

_____ Do you avoid letting other ­people’s ideas and words take up too much space? _____ Do you use active voice when pos­si­ble to reveal actors, agency, and power? _____ Do you avoid hedgy language that weakens your authority? _____ Have you given your materials a thorough copy edit for grammatical and mechanical errors? _____ Does your author biography pre­sent your academic credentials and platform? _____ If you have a platform with nonacademic readers who might make up an audience for your book, do you describe this readership and your ability to reach them? _____ Does your author CV highlight the items that prove you to be a recognized expert on your book’s topic? _____ Do you specify a total estimated word count for your manuscript? _____ Do you specify the number and type of images you expect to include? _____ Do you specify the portion of the manuscript that is currently ready for review and give a date by which the entire manuscript ­will be ready for review? _____ Do you address previous publication of any of the book’s material, including as a dissertation? _____ Do you provide a list of suggested reviewers? _____ Have you been transparent about any plans for simultaneous submission? _____ Have you selected sample chapters that show off your book’s writing style, argument, evidence, and through-­line? _____ Have you verified the list of submission materials and ele­ments requested by your target presses and made sure your proposal packages include all the required information? _____ Have you familiarized yourself with the relevant staff at your target presses? _____ Are you addressing your proposal materials to the appropriate editors at your target presses? Have you double-­checked the spellings of the editors’ names? _____ Have you tailored each version of the proposal you are submitting to each of your target publishers?

Sample Documents

­ ere you’ll find four sample documents written by clients of mine: two book H prospectuses, a letter of inquiry from an author to two series editors, and an author’s response to reader reports on his manuscript. The first prospectus is for Elizabeth Cherry’s so­cio­log­i­cal monograph, For the Birds. Her book proposal received interest from multiple scholarly publishers and was published by Rutgers University Press in 2019. The second document is a prospectus for Branded Difference by Jennifer McClearen, whose book on ­women who work as mixed martial artists ­will be published by the University of Illinois Press in 2021 u­ nder the title Fighting Visibility: Sports Media and Female Athletes in the UFC (the title changed between proposal submission and publication—­a common occurrence). You’ll notice that the two prospectuses are laid out differently, but both include the same kinds of essential information. Accompanying both sample prospectuses you ­will find a few annotations from me on the right-­hand side of the page, pointing out particularly effective ele­ments that the authors included. To save space, I have not included the footnotes and references from the author’s original prospectuses.

Prospectus 1 For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze Book proposal for consideration by Rutgers University Press September 8, 2017 Elizabeth Cherry Manhattanville College You prob­ably know a birder. Maybe you are a birder yourself. If you watch birds, or know someone who does, then you likely understand that birders view the world in a special way. Birding does not simply entail identifying birds. Birders see birds—­and ­people—as interconnected ele­ments in a larger ecosystem, and thus birders seek to improve the environment, for every­one. Birders’ ecological outlook has impor­tant consequences for the environment, as we combat the effects of anthropogenic climate change. And since one in five Americans

This title gives away the book’s topic, thesis, and central contribution right up front.

The very first paragraph pre­sents the main thesis—­a bout how birders view birds and the environment—­a lmost immediately. The author follows this with a direct statement of what’s at stake in her thesis.

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watches birds, birders’ perspectives on wildlife and the environment should have all the more significance. Birding means more than simply watching birds; it encompasses training one’s senses to pay close attention to all of the sights and sounds in nature. In For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze, I argue that birders learn to view wildlife in a par­tic­ul­ar way, which I call the “naturalist gaze.” The naturalist gaze provides birders with a systematic understanding of ­humans’ and wild animals’ intertwined places in the ecosystem. This sensibility, in turn, structures birders’ environmental advocacy in the form of citizen science proj­ ects and wildlife conservation. The naturalist gaze connects the minute and mundane aspects of birding, such as the lessons birders get on nature walks, to the large and consequential, such as the movement to protect the environment from anthropogenic climate change. This deep understanding of nature and all of its ele­ments creates a way of interacting with the natu­ral world that differentiates birding from other ways of interacting with animals or engaging in nature-­ based hobbies. For the Birds demonstrates how ­people can better understand animals and nature, not how animals and nature can help us better understand ourselves. Birders show us how to interact with nature and the wild, in natu­ral and wild settings, in ways that protect wild animals and their habitats. Of course, “nature” and “the wild” are social constructions, and I show how birders’ imagining of them makes nature and the wild more accessible and omnipresent than our typical understandings. Birders see, through birds, what many other p­ eople refuse to see or acknowledge in our environment: Birds are an indicator species, meaning they indicate environmental distress through their migration, nesting, and mating patterns, and their extinction or endangerment attests to t­ hese environmental issues. Thus, birders note how climate change keeps pushing birds’ ranges further and further north, and they provide evidence of t­ hese changes through their citizen science data. Based on over two and a half years of ethnographic fieldwork with birders in the New York metropolitan area and 30 in-­depth interviews with birders throughout the United States, For the Birds offers key theoretical insights for scholars of human-­animal studies, environmental studies, sociology of culture, social movement studies, and scholars of science, technology, and society. Sociologists tend to study wildlife issues most often as social prob­lems, such as how p­ eople hunt or poach wild animals, use wild animals for medical or food purposes, keep wild animals for use in sport, or view captive wildlife for entertainment in zoos. In comparison, birding provides one of the few opportunities for p­ eople to observe, and help, wild animals. While ­people may take ­whale watching tours, or watch nature documentaries, birding pre­sents the most accessible way to directly observe wild animals in their habitats, and therefore birds provide an ideal entry into wildlife conservation issues. Birding represents one of the most popu­lar hobbies in the United States, but it remains one of the least understood in terms of its relationship to and impact on birds and the

The second paragraph of the proj­ect description quickly elaborates the book’s key contribution to knowledge, the concept of “the naturalist gaze.”

The third paragraph then expands on the consequences of the book’s findings. The author repeats the title of the book appropriately throughout.

­ ere the author H concisely conveys the methods and evidence on which her argument is based, as well as the scholarly audience who ­w ill appreciate this work.

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environment. P ­ eople think birding is “for the birds,” an esoteric or asocial pastime. For the Birds shows birders in a new light, by demonstrating the myriad ways they interact with birds, and how they try to help birds through environmental conservation. Thus birding also represents an environmental hobby that is conducted on behalf of birds, or “for the birds’ ” needs. For the Birds enlarges the field of animal studies by centering the needs of wild animals and their natu­ral habitats. Rutgers University Press, and especially your Nature, Society, and Culture book series would make an excellent home for this work, given your strengths in publishing so­cio­log­i­cal work on environmental studies and culture. My ethnographic methodology also fits with Rutgers University Press’s tradition of publishing fine ethnographic work. Readers w ­ ill leave this book with a deeper understanding of birds as complex living beings, with specific needs, desires, personalities, and ecological niches. Readers ­will also better appreciate birds’ and ­people’s places in a shared ecosystem. In addition to its scholarly contributions, For the Birds could potentially make social and environmental contributions. Since For the Birds also features ethnographic accounts of why ­people engage in wildlife observation, conservation, and citizen science proj­ects, I also hope that readers w ­ ill leave this book inspired to spend more time outside, enjoy nature and their fellow creatures, and work to protect our shared environment.

­ ere the author takes a H moment to articulate the fit she sees between her manuscript and her target press and series.

Fi­nally, the author demonstrates that she has written this book with readers in mind.

Chapter Summaries Introduction In the introduction to this book, I show how my research contributes to our understandings of human-­w ildlife interactions in new ways. I turn readers’ focus to animals and how h­ umans can better understand them and their needs. This perspective moves readers beyond viewing human-­wildlife relations as a basis for primarily understanding ele­ments of ­human socie­ties. The introductory chapter also provides a brief overview of the basic ele­ments of birding and dif­fer­ent types of birders, such as the competitive birders who travel the world to find the most birds pos­si­ble in a “big year,” as well as the more recreational, conservation-­minded birders I focus on in this work. I also discuss my ethnographic methods, including what it means to carefully observe p­ eople who are carefully observing wild animals. Chapter 1: Becoming a Birder How do birders learn how to “watch” a bird? Anyone can simply look at a bird, and many ­people can identify common birds without formal training. In Chapter 1, I focus on the guided walks given by birding organ­izations to show how bird walk leaders teach newcomers how to become a birder—­bird walk leaders guide participants through the pro­cess of learning how to pay close

The author succinctly sets forth the topic of each chapter, along with the evidence the chapter draws on to build its argument.

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attention to their surroundings to become a­ dept at hearing, finding, and identifying birds through an informed understanding of bird be­hav­ior, diet, and habitat. Participants learn basic skills, such as how to use binoculars, and deeper philosophical lessons on birding ethics. Once a birder has mastered all of ­these skills, she can enter a state of “flow,” and enjoy a zen-­like walk through the forest, paying close attention to the birds and losing track of other distractions, stresses, and worries. ­These lessons also form the basis for the naturalist gaze. Chapter 2: The Naturalist Gaze Art historian John Berger asked, “Why look at animals?” In Chapter 2, I ask, “How should ­people look at animals?” I argue that birders develop what I call the “naturalist gaze,” which comes from watching wildlife through the lens of what is in the best interest of the animals and the ecosystem in which they live. The naturalist gaze is informed by science, evaluative of ecosystems, concerned for wildlife, integrative in seeing the interconnectedness of ­humans and animals, instructive in teaching ­others how to view wildlife, and, of course, pleas­ur­able. ­Because of their naturalist gaze, birders seek to appreciate birds in healthy habitats in the wild, and not in captivity. The naturalist gaze helps birders understand the power relations b­ ehind watching wildlife, and thus the naturalist gaze also informs birders’ code of ethics for watching birds in the wild. The naturalist gaze informs how birders view individual birds, bird populations, and birds’ and ­humans’ place in a shared ecosystem. This perspective also inspires birders to engage in wildlife and environmental conservation. Chapter 3: Common Birds and the Social Construction of Nature In Chapter 3, I focus on the mundane aspects of birding in one’s own literal or meta­phorical backyard, and I ask how birders understand common birds, or the birds they see ­every day. Walk leaders teach novice birders to appreciate the everyday beauty and won­der in the most common of birds, and more seasoned birders maintain this admiration of common birds as well. Marveling at the beauty and be­hav­ior of the common birds they see ­every day, through the naturalist gaze, helps birders socially construct nature to be everywhere. Why does this perspective ­matter? Birders appreciate common birds ­because they know that when common birds thrive, it means an ecosystem is healthy. Birders also use common birds as an entry point to appreciating the natu­ral environment, and especially as a way of teaching ­children about nature. Creating this won­der and admiration of the mundane aspects of nature encourages ­people to protect the natu­ral environment more than exotic animals ­people ­will likely never see in their natu­ral habitats.

With each chapter summary, the author returns readers to the central through-­l ine of the book, the naturalist gaze.

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Chapter 4: Wilderness and Wildness Birders observe wild birds—­free, wild animals—in their natu­ral habitats. But what does it mean for birds to be “wild” or “­free”? In Chapter 4, I discuss the difference between “wildness” and “wilderness”: Wildness refers to individual animals, and wilderness refers to places. When birds appear in the ­middle of a crowded city, outside of their natu­ral habitat, they still represent wild nature. Historian William Cronon warned that the “trou­ble with wilderness” is that we only recognize it in distant, obviously majestic locations, like national parks, but not in our own back yards. In contrast, birders find wilderness everywhere, ­because they find birds everywhere, and thus they experience a ­little bit of wilderness and wildness everywhere. Since birders always pay attention to birds wherever they go, birders expand their naturalist gaze to encompass wild animals’ survival in the artificial and built environments that ­humans have created. Chapter 5: “Good” Birds, “Bad” Birds, and Animal Agency Why are some birds “good” and other birds “bad”? Chapter 5 explores how birders understand and categorize individual bird be­hav­iors and the habits of par­tic­u­lar species. The naturalist gaze informs how birders evaluate birds’ actions in two interrelated contexts: birds’ natu­ral habitats and ­humans’ intrusion into ­those habitats. “Bad” birds, such as the invasive, non-­native House Sparrows and Eu­ro­pean Starlings, avoid full blame ­because ­people brought them to the United States from Eu­rope. As birders note, it’s not the birds’ fault they are ­here. In contrast, birders view Brown-­Headed Cowbirds—­a beautiful, native species—as “bad” b­ ecause of their parasitic be­hav­ior. Cowbirds lay their eggs in smaller songbirds’ nests, thus endangering t­ hose songbirds through their be­hav­ior. The naturalist gaze blames p­ eople for the habitat destruction wrought by certain invasive species, and it implicates birds’ animal agency when they endanger other birds. Chapter 6: Birding and Citizen Science Birders develop the ability to appreciate the par­tic­u­lar and the general, including individual birds, entire species of birds, and birds’ place in the ecosystem. In Chapter 6, I argue that birders’ observational skills, combined with the naturalist gaze, drive birders to participate in citizen science proj­ects and environmental conservation. Citizen science refers to science that is conducted in part by non-­professional scientists, and the greatest contributions to citizen science proj­ects throughout the world come from birders. Birders blur the bound­aries between work and leisure, as they spend their leisure time collecting data that field researchers get paid to do. The naturalist gaze helps birders remain rigorous in their observations, since birders share scientists’ skepticism about the reliability and validity of citizen science data. ­These observations provide evidence of the effects of anthropogenic climate

As the chapter summaries continue, the author shows how each chapter adds new layers to the book’s central theme.

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change on birds as indicator species, and thus they inform wildlife and environmental conservation efforts. Chapter 7: Birding as a Conservation Movement Chapter 7 connects birding with larger movements for wildlife and environmental conservation. John James Audubon studied birds for his drawings by shooting them by the dozens. Now the Audubon Society discourages such rampant killing of birds and has grown into one of the largest conservation organ­izations in the United States. Birders take the conservation mission of Audubon seriously, and they push for structural changes through Audubon’s lobbying efforts. The naturalist gaze helps birders see ­people and birds as both taking part in a larger, shared ecosystem. Birders are thus able to turn the naturalist gaze back upon themselves, and they attempt to lessen their own impact on climate change by making changes in their own lifestyles. Despite the wide-­ ranging actions they take for birds, many birders do not consider themselves to be activists or even environmentalists. They prefer to call themselves conservationists, even if their views on the environment indicate more of a deep ecol­ogy or social ecol­ogy framework. Birders’ minimizing their environmentalist identity represents a new finding for low-­stakes lifestyle movements, where activists typically pre­sent themselves as more radical than their be­hav­ iors indicate. Conclusion For the Birds concludes by placing birding back in its larger context of human-­ wildlife relations. I tie together the arguments of the book and show that by developing the naturalist gaze, birders establish a method for admiring both individual birds and entire species of birds. This method, in turn, helps birders understand birds’ and h­ umans’ interrelated places in a shared ecosystem, and it inspires them to engage in environmental and wildlife conservation activism. Birding represents one of the few times that ­people unobtrusively watch wildlife in its natu­ral habitats. My conclusion demonstrates the implications of better understanding this respectful relationship, and it offers new directions for ­future research in human-­animal studies. Competing Titles Despite the rich history of birding, thousands of field guides, and hundreds of popu­lar books on the topic, birding remains understudied for such a widespread hobby. Extant lit­er­a­ture on birding discusses the history of birding or par­tic­u­lar birders and the development of field guides, but ­these books center their analyses on cultural artifacts or scientific developments related to birding more than they do on the birds themselves. For the Birds maintains a primary focus on birders and their relationship to birds in an interconnected environment.

The author uses the “Competing Titles” section to show, in broad strokes, what makes this book unique and valuable for readers.

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­Until the last few years, sociologists of human-­animal studies and the environment had published very few books about wildlife. Several recent books evidence the growing interest in wild animals and have contributed to a growing debate on our interactions with wildlife and nature. Lisa Jean Moore’s books on ­horse­shoe crabs, whose blood provides the basis for our vaccines, and bees, who pollinate the food that we eat, describe our interconnectedness to wild animals, and how we depend on each other for survival. I build upon Moore’s emotional and biological relationships between ­people and animals as a part of nature, and I elaborate on her arguments about what everyday ­people (i.e., non-­ scientists) do to develop ­these relationships. Other works demonstrate ­human control over nature and how p­ eople keep wild animals captive for entertainment. Colin Jerolmack’s book on pigeons discusses p­ eople who keep pigeons for entertainment purposes, such as racing or rooftop flying, and p­ eople who feed feral pigeons in parks as a pastime. Similarly, David Grazian’s book on zoos investigates how zoos attempt to brand themselves as conservation-­minded and educational, even while zoos maintain their entertainment function. Grazian highlights the artificiality of how we interact with wild animals in zoos, and how zoos attempt to mimic natu­ral settings in their institutional pre­sen­ta­tion of self. I build upon Grazian and Jerolmack’s insights into human-­wildlife interactions in artificial or built settings, but For the Birds return the wild animals to their natu­ral habitats. In ­doing so, I extend so­cio­log­i­cal understandings of wildlife by highlighting the agency of wild animals and focusing on how birders understand and protect nature in the wild. All of t­ hese sociology books, including Gary Alan Fine’s book on mushroomers, depict how ­people proj­ect meaning onto natu­ral objects, “see” or “find” themselves in nature, or use nature or animals to better understand themselves. With my focus on birders’ appreciation of individual birds and their be­hav­iors as well as the ecosystems in which we all fit, For the Birds shows how ­people remake their entire outlook on the natu­ral world. For the Birds does not describe how ­people better understand their own identities through experiencing nature; it argues that p­ eople need to better understand their impacts on nature.

The author situates her book within recent publishing trends, focusing on books released within the previous few years. She discusses the relationships between her book and ­others in a way that reflects well on both the previously published books and her own.

Target Audience For the Birds’ central focus on birders’ conceptions of and interactions with birds makes scholars of human-­animal studies its primary audience. My in-­ depth discussion of the social construction of nature, the distinctions between wilderness and wildness, and environmental conservation make this of ­great interest to environmental sociologists as well. My concept of the “naturalist gaze,” as well as my discussion of the symbolic bound­aries between “good” and “bad” birds, should find an audience in sociologists of culture. My discussions of citizen science and wildlife conservation advocacy should also make this book of interest to scholars of science, technology, and society as well as social

The author articulates a reasonable scholarly audience for the book, identifying specific subfields within her broad home field of sociology and the types of courses in which the book could be ­adopted.

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movement studies. It could be assigned for undergraduate or gradu­ate courses in animals and society, environmental sociology, culture, and qualitative methods. As an ethnographic account of a highly popu­lar pastime, my book also has a ­great deal of market potential. Books about birders and birding are generally quite popu­lar with general audiences, and many Audubon socie­ties have book clubs and invite writers to speak at their meetings. I have already been invited to speak about my birding research at three dif­fer­ent Audubon socie­ties and birding clubs in the New York metropolitan area in early 2018, and I have access to several other local and state Audubon socie­ties to promote my work. I have also formed relationships with the leadership of the National Audubon Society, based in New York City, and I aim to pre­sent my research at their national Audubon Convention and gain coverage in their high-­circulation, nationwide Audubon Magazine once my book is published.

The author additionally explains the book’s crossover potential (that is, pos­s i­ble appeal to nonacademic audiences) and provides evidence of her capacity to reach that audience.

Manuscript Specifics, Sections Published Separately, and Timeline for Completion As of September 2017, I have completed initial drafts of all seven analytic chapters. “Chapter 2: The Naturalist Gaze” is available as a sample chapter. I w ­ ill have two more sample chapters, including the introduction, available for review by November 2017. I expect to have the entire manuscript of 80,000–90,000 words ready for review by August 2018. An article entitled “Birding, Citizen Science, and Wildlife Conservation in So­cio­log­ic­ al Perspective,” which is based in part on ele­ments of Chapter 6 (“Birding and Citizen Science”), is currently u­ nder review at the journal Society and Animals. I would like to include approximately 10 black and white photo­graphs of birders, relevant signage in national parks, and certain birds mentioned throughout the manuscript. All photo­graphs are my own, or are used with the permission of and attribution to the birders who took them.

The author clearly pre­sents details relevant to the production of the book, such as word count, images, timeline for completion, and previous publications. In the original prospectus, the author also provided a list of suggested expert reviewers with their titles and email addresses (I removed them from this sample for their privacy).

Qualifications I am currently an associate professor of sociology at Manhattanville College, where I conduct research and teach on human-­animal studies, environmental sociology, culture, and social movements. My previous book proj­ect, Culture and Activism: Animal Rights in France and the United States was published by Routledge in 2016, and it should come out in paperback at the end of 2017. Please see my attached short vita for more information about my qualifications.

The author provides a brief bio, including her main credentials and previous book publication. She points to an attached author CV for more information.

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Prospectus 2 Book Proposal University of Illinois Press Jennifer McClearen, PhD Department of Radio-­Television-­Film The University of Texas at Austin

Branded Difference: Promoting Female Athletes in the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) Abstract Branded Difference investigates how the UFC incorporates female fighters throughout its mixed-­martial arts sports media empire. “Branded difference” is the term I employ to theorize the discursive strategies the UFC utilizes to integrate repre­sen­ ta­tions of gender, racial, class, national, and sexual difference into the brand. I argue that branded difference is an ambivalent cultural discourse that fluctuates between depicting difference as individualized and presenting it as a homogenous feature of our collective humanity. This ambivalence serves as a key mechanism to grow the brand with diverse audiences while si­mul­ta­neously maintaining ­labor inequalities that disproportionately impact t­ hose fighters on the roster who are most dif­ fer­ent, such as w ­ omen of color, lesbians, and gender non-­conforming ­women. Branded Difference peels back the artifice of repre­sen­ta­tion to critique the under­lying ­labor practices that now make the image of the power­ful female fighter not just pos­si­ble but also lucrative. Logistics Estimated Word Count: 75,000 Images: 12–15 images that primarily consist of UFC advertising and screenshots of UFC events and promotions Previously Published Material: Yes, I ­will revise a previously published article from the International Journal of Communication and a chapter from the edited collection, New Sporting Femininities: Embodied Politics in Postfeminist Times. Simultaneous Submission: Yes, to two other university presses. Delivery Date: February 2019

Author Jennifer McClearen, PhD, is a feminist media scholar and visiting lecturer in the Department of Radio-­Television-­Film at the University of Texas at Austin. Her scholarly work examines the cultural production of difference in

The author pre­sents her argument right away, along with its larger significance. She explains that her book ­w ill not only document a phenomenon but also show why it happens that way and how it affects real p ­ eople.

The author provides pertinent manuscript specifications including word count and a general description of the images she intends to include. She also specifies that some material has been previously published and that she w ­ ill be submitting this proposal to other publishers. While most prospectuses include this information ­toward the end, this author put it on a cover page that doubled as a one-­s heet she handed out to editors at preliminary meetings. It goes to show that t­ here is no one correct way to format a successful proposal.

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con­temporary society with an emphasis on the mediation of gender, race, and sexuality. Her research can be found in the International Journal of Communica­ tion; Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies; New Formations: A Jour­ nal of Culture, Theory, and Politics; and in the edited collections Feminist Era­ sures: Challenging Backlash Culture and New Sporting Femininities: Embodied Politics in Postfeminist Times (forthcoming).

Proj­e ct Description The Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) did something in 2013 they swore for twenty years they would never do: they introduced female fighters into their notoriously hypermasculine sports media empire. The fight promotion had begun in 1993 as a contest to determine which martial art and martial artists would rise above the rest in a tournament of champions. The spectacle ­later developed into a sport that combined grappling arts with striking arts and wrestling, or the more concisely named mixed-­martial arts (MMA). The move to include female fighters in MMA’s largest promotion came as a surprise to fans and pundits alike since the sport that U.S. Senator John McCain once called “­human cockfighting” seemed like an unlikely candidate to join the presumed untenable business of w ­ omen’s sports. W ­ omen’s MMA has witnessed an explosion of popularity since the UFC’s initial foray into including female athletes, as evidenced by the meteoric rise of Ronda Rousey. Rousey became the organ­ ization’s highest paid athlete—­male or female—­just two years ­after signing with the organ­ization. All the while, the UFC has steadily increased its roster of female fighters by incorporating w ­ omen of varying nationalities, ethnicities, races, classes, and sexualities into a brand that now actively seeks to champion itself as welcoming such diversity of fighters and fans. Branded Difference: Promoting Female Athletes in the Ultimate Fighting Cham­ pionship (UFC) examines how the UFC incorporates female fighters throughout the organ­ization’s vast array of media ventures, including live events, a real­ ity TV show, documentary web series, a subscription-­based streaming ser­vice, and social media. “Branded difference” is the term I employ to theorize the discursive strategies media organ­izations such as the UFC utilize to integrate repre­sen­ta­tions of gender, racial, class, national, and sexual difference into their brand identities. The UFC’s inclusion of female athletes is noteworthy within the sports media industry and built on a proliferating trend in media culture: diversify repre­sen­ta­tions to appeal to previously disregarded segments of the media market, such as ­women and fans of ­women’s sports. Female athletes and fans are becoming part of the tapestry of the UFC ­because the organ­ization perceives their difference as profitable. The UFC’s efforts to promote female fighters is a promising tactic for increasing repre­sen­ta­tions of w ­ omen in sports; however, the book analyzes this phenomenon as a fraught endeavor rather than a victory for w ­ omen’s athletics. Weaving textual analy­sis of UFC media with interviews with UFC staff, I argue

The author begins the full proj­ect description with a hook to draw readers in and then quickly lays out the context for the study.

­ ere the author H introduces and concisely defines an original analytical concept that ­w ill drive the proj­ect.

The author mentions her research methods and objects in passing as she continues to develop her intervention.

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that branded difference in the UFC is an ambivalent cultural discourse that fluctuates between depicting difference as individualized and presenting it as a homogenous feature of our collective humanity. This ambivalence serves as a key mechanism to grow the brand with diverse audiences while si­mul­ta­neously maintaining inequalities that disproportionately impact ­those fighters on the roster who are most dif­fer­ent, such as w ­ omen of color, lesbians, and gender non-­conforming w ­ omen. In the UFC’s brand identity, all fighters have access to the rewards of the UFC regardless of how they identify in terms of gender, race, ethnicity, nationality, or sexuality, i.e. sameness. The fight promotion maintains that disadvantages—be they unique to a poor, white Irishman or to an African-­American ­woman—­are equalizing ­factors in the race for UFC stardom. Many of the narratives the UFC weaves appear progressive at face value ­because they focus on the t­ rials and tribulations located in essentialized understandings of difference and cursory understandings of barriers for par­tic­u­lar social identities. The UFC’s communication strategies suggest a long-­awaited level of visibility for female athletes since academic and popu­lar scholarship has been concerned with the repre­sen­ta­tion of w ­ omen in sports for de­cades. The scholarship on the repre­sen­ta­tion of ­women’s sports leverages three primary critiques concerning female athletes: the underrepre­sen­ta­tion, objectification, and trivialization of w ­ omen in sports. The embrace of w ­ omen in the UFC suggests forward momentum for female athletes since they now have greater visibility within combat sports than ever before. The marketing ethos of branded difference initially addresses what feminist and sports media scholars have eagerly anticipated: more diverse media repre­sen­ta­tions across the spectrum of identities that make up con­temporary American culture. Branded Difference pushes beyond the politics of visibility to consider the industry forces that now make diverse female athletes a desirable feature of a sports media organ­ization. Understanding repre­sen­ta­tion as contextual within industry change fosters an ambivalent reading of branded difference that propels our knowledge beyond simply asking ­whether ­these are “positive” or “progressive” images of w ­ omen. The book peels back the artifice of repre­sen­ta­tion to critique the under­lying l­abor practices that now make the image of the power­ful female fighter not just pos­si­ble but also lucrative. Despite an initial acknowl­edgment of issues like gender in­equality, the UFC’s ­labor practices produce drastic income in­equality and poor working conditions for its professional athletes. Fighters are contractual instead of salaried employees of the UFC and t­ here is a vast discrepancy between fighter pay and orga­nizational revenue. The UFC operates a star system wherein a few fighters make the bulk of the revenue allotted for the athletes and the remainder of the roster remains underpaid, and I argue, exploited. In this star-­obsessed and merit-­based system, UFC fighters assume much of the responsibility for their livelihoods and the risk to their bodies. Female fighters must secure sponsorships to train, often work outside of MMA to maintain subsistence, and face pressure to use social media to build their following and the UFC’s brand.

­ ere the author H sketches the scholarly fields into which her work intervenes, explaining succinctly how she departs from and complicates previous inquiries. Crucially, she also delves into what’s at stake in this dif­fer­ent kind of inquiry.

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This book’s focus on l­abor lays bare the consequences of the increased visibility of difference in late capitalism that sets this proj­ect apart in sports media studies. The UFC purports that visibility w ­ ill lead to an athlete’s increased income and success while rarely delivering on this promise. Instead, branded difference elevates the image of the female athlete to benefit the brand but not necessarily to the athletes themselves. I contend that the strategic ambivalence between difference and sameness obscures the UFC’s ­labor practices ­behind a familiar American neoliberal narrative: a fighter overcoming all obstacles through individual hard work and determination—or the myth of meritocracy. The UFC inserts achievement rhe­toric into branded difference as a discursive device that justifies why most fighters are poorly compensated: they a­ ren’t working hard enough for the opportunities that the UFC is providing. The ambivalence of branded difference allows the UFC to market themselves to diverse audiences while si­mul­ta­neously compensating diverse fighters unfairly. This state of affairs means that we must now grapple with what happens to w ­ omen’s sporting bodies when they become celebrated and exploited in brand culture. Branded Difference: Promoting Female Fighters in the Ultimate Fighting Champion­ ship throws the first punch.

As the author develops the book’s central concept, readers of the prospectus can begin to imagine how this analytical tool might be portable to other examples and contexts.

Scholarly Conversations and Broader Audience Branded Difference joins scholarly conversations with recent books that examine sports media as meaningful institutions within moments of cultural change. Since my proj­ect examines the UFC as an institution that brands itself within par­tic­u­lar con­temporary discourses of consumerism and identity, it shares some scholarly aims with Travis Vogan’s ESPN: The Making of a Sports Media Empire (University of Illinois Press 2015). Vogan’s book contextualizes the evolution of ESPN within the economic and cultural forces that enable the media organ­ization’s symbolic capital and flare for brand management. Branded Dif­ ference echoes some of his attention on the cultural, economic, and symbolic meanings of sports media enterprises, yet, brings a feminist analy­sis of the articulation of female fighters throughout the UFC brand. Branded Difference also shares an affinity with Thomas Oates’s Football and Manliness: An Unauthorized Feminist Account of the NFL (University of Illinois Press 2017). Oates focuses on the meanings and significances of gender within a sports media organ­ ization. Oates uses the national preoccupation with the NFL to interrogate a shifting conceptualization of masculinity in a post-­feminist and post-­racial moment. Analogously, I position my proj­ect on ­women in the UFC as an opportunity to scrutinize shifts within articulations of femininities in sports media organ­izations that I attribute to the collusion between popu­lar feminism and neoliberalism. In this way, my proj­ect shares Kim Toffoletti’s interest in femininities and sports identities in her book ­Women Sport Fans: Identification, Par­ ticipation, Repre­sen­ta­tion (Routledge 2017), which probes the con­temporary conditions such as globalization and consumerism that now make ­women

In this discussion of comparable works, the author begins by discussing recent titles from her target press. She explains the aims and affinities t­ hese books share with her own, but also points to aspects of her book that might hold additional appeal for par­tic­u­l ar readers, such as t­ hose seeking a feminist analy­s is of sports and media.

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sports fans vis­i­ble. Branded Difference adds to this conversation by demonstrating how the UFC has taken notice of ­women’s participation in sports viewership and how it capitalizes on this phenomenon to articulate its brand identity. Branded Difference further adds to recent books that take critical approaches to the study of brand culture since my proj­ect straddles sports studies and media studies. Melissa Aronczyk’s Branding the Nation: The Global Business of National Identity (Oxford University Press 2013) reveals how the logics of brands have infiltrated messaging practices far beyond their corporate origins and have become a staple of 21st ­century communication more broadly. Aronczyk scrutinizes case studies in how nation branding flows through interrelated po­liti­cal, economic, and cultural anx­i­eties that the brand seeks to assuage. Branded Difference, of course, returns to the corporate origins of brand management, but focuses on the strategic deployment of identity through consumer frameworks while still attending to the cultural anx­i­eties produced. As such, Sarah Banet-­Weiser’s Au­then­tic: The Politics of Ambivalence in Brand Culture (New York University Press 2012) also informs this proj­ect. Banet-­Weiser emphasizes the cultural significance brands bring to consumer lives and shows how individuals negotiate their understanding of self, social identity, and other ­people through their brand attachments. My book takes a cue from Banet-­ Weiser’s feminist analy­sis of brand culture, but I specifically consider the discrepancies between the UFC’s cele­bration of difference and its unjust l­abor practice that branded difference allows it to perpetuate. The Studies in Sports Media series with University of Illinois Press promises to be a particularly strong fit for this book proj­ect since it is firmly planted within the humanistic study of sports and media culture. I ground Branded Difference in several interdisciplinary conversations concerning brand culture, media industries, sports studies, American studies, feminist media studies, gender and sexuality studies, and critical race studies across academic and public audiences. Since I enunciate the features of branded difference through an interrogation of a case study in sports media, the book ­will be of interest to faculty as well as gradu­ate and upper-­division undergraduate students in media and communication, sociology, and gender and sexuality studies as well as lay audiences interested in the UFC, female athletes, and popu­lar culture. I foresee the book being assigned in gradu­ate and undergraduate courses such as Sport and Society; Gender, Race, and Sexuality in Media Culture; and Sports Media, which cross-­section a variety of disciplinary homes. The book further engages a recent increase in scholarly attention ­towards sports. In the last five years, the American Studies Association, the International Communication Association, and the National Communication Association have each developed scholarly interest groups around sports communication or sports culture. My own institution, the University of Texas at Austin, just opened a new center for Sports Communication and Media in autumn 2017 in order to facilitate greater interdisciplinary engagement with teaching, learning, and researching about sports. Fi­nally, the recent cultural debates over professional athletes protesting racial

­ ere the author H articulates the readerships her book is poised to serve; ­these readerships align with ­those of the series she is targeting. The author also gives evidence from her field that t­ hese readerships are growing in size and market viability.

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in­equality during the national anthem reminds us that sports have always been a site of strug­gle over difference in popu­lar discourse. The focus on NFL protests and the relative lack of coverage of athlete activism in ­women’s sports like the WNBA also demonstrates that female athletes remain on the margins of culture even as the UFC has increased the visibility of its female fighters. ­Women’s sports are a prime location to study the intersecting discourses of difference and in­equality leveraged against marginalized groups, which is why I situate Branded Difference within t­ hese conversations in the public sphere as well. Current State of the Proj­e ct and Timeline The book manuscript is a revision of my dissertation Converging Media and Divergent Bodies: Articulations of Power­ful ­Women in the Ultimate Fighting Cham­ pionship. The major task of my revisions has been to reformulate the proj­ect around my theorization of branded difference, which did not appear in the dissertation, but unites some of the most salient ideas from that research repackaged for a broader interdisciplinary audience. The sample chapters I am submitting with this proposal include a new introductory chapter along with one chapter revised from the dissertation. I w ­ ill continue interviewing female fighters in February 2018 in order to draft a new final chapter. I ­will then revise two additional dissertation chapters for inclusion in the book manuscript, which w ­ ere published as a journal article and book chapter in an edited collection. I plan to revise the entire book to send to the editors by February 2019.

The author addresses the fact that this manuscript is a revision of her dissertation and explains how she has revised it. She also provides a realistic timeline for submission of the full manuscript.

Annotated ­Table of Contents Preface The preface to Branded Difference centers my perspective as a martial artist and MMA spectator. I have been practicing martial arts for 12 years, so I am both an insider and outsider as I examine the UFC with the critical eye of a scholar, the embodied knowledge of a queer cisgender martial arts practitioner, and the curiosity of an MMA fan. In ­doing so, I position the book as embedded in the intimacies of scholar-­practitioner-­fan, which means the proj­ect is personal as well as po­liti­cal. Chapter 1 “Theorizing Branded Difference in the UFC” defines and critiques the UFC’s promotion of its ­women’s divisions through its marketing and branding efforts. I argue that the UFC’s branding of difference is an ambivalent cultural discourse that elevates minoritized genders, races, ethnicities, sexualities, and nationalities to grow the sport’s viewership. However, this surface level cele­bration of difference serves to support an untenable l­ abor model. The highly vis­i­ble spec-

This summary of the preface positions the writer as a unique authority on the book’s subject ­matter. It also gives a glimpse into how she ­w ill connect with readers throughout the book.

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tacle of difference masks the disparities that minoritized fighters face within the organ­ization around issues of l­abor and exploitation, in par­tic­u­lar. The UFC’s branding strategies reveal that “positive,” “accurate,” or “meaningful” repre­sen­ ta­tion is a fraught endeavor without fair working conditions. Instead, diverse ­women in the UFC are exploited for the difference that they represent. Chapter 2 “Branded Real­ity: Making Race and Gender Formulaic in The Ultimate Fighter” narrows its focus from the first chapter to consider how the UFC deploys branded difference in its real­ity TV show and its related media. The Ultimate Fighter real­ity tele­vi­sion show is an innovative marketing strategy that promotes diverse fighters and attracts fans from previously overlooked audience demographics. Through this close examination of several seasons of The Ultimate Fighter, I argue that the UFC’s real­ity show format produces a discourse that ambivalently homogenizes and essentializes difference—­a phenomenon that girds gender, race, sexuality, and nationality to affective economies of cultural production. By “affective economies” I mean marketing practices that seek “to understand the emotional under­pinnings of consumer decision-­making as a driving force b­ ehind viewing and purchasing decisions” ( Jenkins 2006, p. 62). The UFC trades difference within affective economies to appeal to new demographics and grow its viewership through identification with diverse fighters. This convergence of affective economies, marketing, and difference have facilitated the splintering of a glass ceiling within combat sports. Yet, this chapter critiques how the ambivalent dance between difference and sameness operates as a rigidly executed marketing strategy that evacuates difference of its politicized meanings and instead makes it formulaic. Chapter 3 While the first two chapters theorize the UFC’s strategic communication of branded difference, the next two chapters focus on how t­ hese efforts impact specific repre­sen­ta­tions of female fighters. Chapters three and four show how branded difference vacillates between essentializing gender, race, sexuality, and nationality while still relying on a homogenizing rhe­toric of “we are all fighters,” or “we are all dif­fer­ent.” “Branded Empowerment: Strong (and White) is the New Skinny” studies the repre­sen­ta­tion of female fighters to illustrate how the UFC draws upon feminist themes of empowerment, such as “strong is the new skinny” and “fight like a girl,” to market female fighters across digital media and tele­vi­sion. By examining the promotion of Ronda Rousey, I argue that while the UFC brand understands female fighters as facing gender in­equality b­ ecause of their difference, they still position that hurdle as unremarkable ­because all fighters face some brand of obstacle they must overcome. All can achieve Rousey’s level of success through enough effort. The brand portrays itself as rebelling against protracted notions of white femininity as physically weak and fragile

Notice that each chapter summary begins with some framing that explains the chapter’s relation to the previous chapter and the new direction it takes the narrative. This helps to establish the book’s overall arc and the relevance of each chapter to the book’s driving thesis.

The author also briefly describes the research objects in each chapter and how she uses them to build the chapter-­l evel argument.

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and instead celebrates Rousey’s self-­discipline and individual empowerment through fitness. In the pro­cess, white, middle-­class ­women and girls become the de facto subject of empowerment, while w ­ omen and girls from other races and lower socioeconomic classes are symbolically annihilated from the empowerment rhe­toric. Chapter 4 In “Branded Homonationalism: Lesbian Fighters in the UFC Nation,” I interrogate how the UFC normalizes LGBT and national difference as part of the tapestry that is the UFC brand. The UFC folds lesbians into branded homonationalism, a discourse that advocates for the active incorporation of normative gay and lesbian identities as rightful subjects of a socially progressive brand while strictly defining normative gay and lesbian identities and relationships. By crafting each lesbian fighter’s story as overcoming an obstacle, she may belong to a diverse UFC brand built upon individualism and the myth of meritocracy—­asserting that UFC fighters have access to wealth and success regardless of their nationality, gender, or sexuality. Yet, I argue that a closer examination of lesbian athletes of color in the UFC nation reveals hierarchies within branded difference even as it claims equal access for all on the surface. Chapter 5 The fifth and final chapter of the book centers the voices of female fighters to examine how they navigate the economic conditions they face as contracted employees of the UFC. “Branded Selves: The L ­ abor of Female UFC Fighters” interviews female fighters about the l­abor practices of the UFC as well as the additional self-­promotional ­labor required to make themselves vis­i­ble online. On the one hand, female fighters feel the responsibility to promote themselves and their economic sponsors online since the UFC does not pay most of them a realistic living wage. On the other hand, social media is a difficult space to be a ­woman in a “man’s sport” since overt sexism and trolling are endemic and exhausting. Female athletes must navigate l­abor exploitation, the l­ abor of self-­ branding on social media, and the emotional ­labor of self-­protection online. I argue, therefore, that branded difference is a crumbling façade for unjust ­labor practices that is ultimately an unsustainable model for promoting female athletes. Conclusion “The Precarious F ­ uture of W ­ omen’s Combat Sports” examines the ­labor issues that are impacting the conceivable f­ utures of ­women’s MMA and of ­women’s sports more broadly, but also considers the long-­term health of the athletes. The conclusion grapples with w ­ hether we can even begin to imagine what a v­ iable ­women’s MMA promotion might look like without a clearer understanding of the impact of reoccurring head injuries on female fighters.

As the book progresses into the ­l ater chapters, readers can see how the central analytical concept is expanded with additional case studies.

The final body chapter brings readers even closer to the material stakes of the book’s central theme.

The book’s brief conclusion looks outward to the ­future consequences of the phenomenon that the book documents, implicitly suggesting topics for ­future study.

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Letter of Inquiry This sample document is a letter of inquiry written by author Blake Atwood to two series editors at his target press. You may be addressing your letter of inquiry directly to an acquisitions editor, rather than series editors, but the letter could look about the same ­either way. Dear Drs. Bowker and Edwards, I hope that this note finds you well. I am writing ­because I have recently completed a book entitled Under­ground: The Secret Life of Videocassettes in Iran, which I think would be a good fit for the Infrastructures series at the MIT Press. The book studies the under­ground infrastructure that developed in Iran following a ban on all home video technology between 1983 and 1994. I explore the informal practices, technologies, and forms of ­labor that supplied Ira­ni­ans with access to movies on video. Thinking through the material and ­legal conditions of videocassettes at the time, I show how everyday ­people use media technologies in unexpected ways in order to forge their own systems beneath repressive institutions. This is an impor­tant story and one that ­hasn’t been told yet. Its attention to a thriving video culture that remained hidden and out of sight would make it a compelling addition to your series. I am an assistant professor of media studies at the American University of Beirut. I previously taught in faculty positions at the University of Texas at Austin and the University of Pennsylvania. I have published widely on media in the ­Middle East, especially in Iran and Lebanon. My first book, Reform Cinema in Iran: Film and Po­liti­cal Change in the Islamic Republic, was published in 2016 by Columbia University Press. I ­will, of course, formally approach the acquisition editors at the MIT Press, but I wanted to reach out to you first as the series editors to see if it is a pos­si­ble fit. I have attached the book proposal and introduction to this email. I would be happy to follow up with my CV or additional sample chapters. Thank you for your time and consideration, and I look forward to hearing back from you! Very best, Blake Atwood Response to Reader Reports The following response to reader reports was also written by Blake Atwood—­ his letter of inquiry worked and his manuscript was sent out for peer review. Atwood’s editor solicited four reader reports on his complete book manuscript,

The salutation is formal, using titles and last names. The writer quickly communicates the status of his manuscript, then shares the title and subject ­matter in a few concise sentences.

The second paragraph of the letter briefly pre­sents the author’s qualifications, including academic posts and previous publications. The writer clarifies his reason for writing to the editors. He lists the materials he has provided and is prepared to provide upon request. The writer finishes with a gracious closing that makes clear he is awaiting a response.

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and asked him to respond to the reports in a letter. The acquisitions editor used this letter to make his case that the author should be offered a contract for his book. It’s now ­under contract with the MIT Press and set for a 2021 release. As you read the sample letter, note that the author packs a lot of key ele­ ments into the very first paragraph. He expresses gratitude for the reviewers’ engagement with his book manuscript and summarizes the reports in general terms. He also recaps the purpose of his book and gives a summary of the revision plan that this letter ­will lay out along with an estimated timeline. In subsequent paragraphs, the author pre­sents his major plans for revision, weaving in the comments of reviewers as he does so. He synthesizes the reviewers’ positive appraisals of the manuscript with constructive suggestions for revision. Importantly, the author gives concrete examples to illustrate how he ­will realistically address the reviewers’ suggestions. Dear Justin and Members of the Publishing Committee: Thank you for your interest in Under­ground: The Secret Life of Videocassettes in Iran. I believe that the Infrastructures series at the MIT Press is the ideal home for my book, and I appreciate your support of the proj­ect so far. I am grateful to all four reviewers for their thoughtful and thorough engagement with my manuscript. I found their feedback both encouraging and generative. All the reviewers recommended publication and appreciated the book’s two main imperatives: 1) challenging the US as a normative site for understanding media infrastructures, industries, and cultures and 2) a careful mapping of the ways in which everyday p­ eople in Iran used media technologies to challenge state power. I have formulated a revision plan based on the reviewers’ comments. This plan ­will cover four major areas: engaging more directly in existing scholarly debates; clarifying some terminology; removing unnecessary repetition; and positioning myself in relation to the research. I anticipate implementing ­these revisions at a pace of one chapter per month and expect to submit the completed manuscript to the Press by August 2020. The revisions ­will not significantly increase the manuscript’s current word count. Central to my revision plan is expanding citations in certain places, especially the Introduction. All of the reviewers praised my writing style, with Reviewer 4 noting that I “prefer the easy read narrative flow, rather than complicating the story with theoretical digressions.” In most places, this strategy was successful, and Reviewer 1 even described the manuscript as “flawless.” However, I agree with Reviewer 2’s assessment that I should “show a bit (but not a lot) more generosity in engaging with the work of other scholars.” He emphasizes that “this is

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mainly an issue in the Introduction, as the author does engage with other scholars by name more regularly in the body of the book.” Reviewer 3 identifies the introduction as the book’s strongest chapter, but also recommends more direct citations of relevant works in order to secure “collegial buy-in.” I ­wholeheartedly agree, and to this end, I intend to reference directly the works that made my research pos­si­ble, including Herbert’s Videoland, Hilderbrand’s Inherent Vice, Newman’s Video Revolutions, and Larkin’s Signal and Noise. Further, both Reviewers 2 and 3 have generously proposed additional references to strengthen my claims in the book’s body chapters. While bolstering citations ­will improve certain chapters, like the Introduction, in other places I intend to enter more forcefully into theoretical discussions, especially in Chapter 2. As Reviewer 4 notes, Chapter 2 is “the main theoretical chapter in the book, which links the story of an under­ground explic­itly to infrastructure theory.” ­There are two places, in par­tic­u­lar, where I aim to deepen my engagement with existing scholarship. First, Lucas Hilderbrand’s Inherent Vice circles around many of the same themes as my book, including debates about piracy, access, copyright, and the aesthetics of video degeneration. I completely agree with Reviewer 3’s suggestion that I draw out the connections between my work and Hilderbrand’s in order to “affirm that ­these practices existed—­with dif­fer­ent po­liti­cal and cultural contexts and ­legal implications—­across dif­fer­ent locations.” Indeed, mapping out ­these corollaries ­will advance my overall goal of globalizing our knowledge of media technologies and cultures. On that note, I intend to bring in other cases of such illegal infrastructures, including China and Cuba, per Reviewer 3 and 4’s suggestion. Second, as Reviewer 4 proposes, I w ­ ill clarify the “invisibility meta­phor” with regard to infrastructure. I agree that if I am ­going to play with the idea of invisibility, then I need to ground it in existing theories of infrastructure. By engaging with works by Larkin, Nguyen, Parks, and Star, I w ­ ill clarify the complicated l­ egal, technological, and social forces that made the videocassette infrastructure in Iran both invisible at certain times and vis­i­ble at ­others. This ­will provide an impor­tant corrective to the “assumption (by several other authors) that media infrastructures are most often ‘invisible,’ ” as Reviewer 4 observes. On a similar note, in my revisions, I intend to make sure that I have adequately defined certain terms. In their comments, Reviewer 4 writes that “the author uses examples rather than theory.” I d­ on’t necessarily see this as a shortcoming of my work, but I agree that certain terms come with theoretical baggage that

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needs to be addressed, at the very least. As a result, I ­will clarify how I am using terms like “materiality,” “affect,” and “discourse,” per Reviewer 4’s suggestion. References to Berlant, Fairclough, and Foucault w ­ ill help to pin down how I use ­these concepts, while also keeping space for nuanced understandings of them so that my claims ­don’t seem too generalized or universal. With regard to the term “discourse” in par­tic­ul­ ar, I appreciate Reviewer 4’s feedback that I clarify the discursive construction of the under­ground and its relationship to the video network. I ­will accomplish this work in the book’s Introduction. Reviewers 2 and 3 noted that the manuscript suffers from some repetition. As I line edit each chapter, I ­will pay close attention to repetition and condense ­those passages that would benefit from tightening. I thank Reviewers 2 and 3 for pointing out specific passages that may deserve attention in this regard. As all the reviewers noted, my aim is to write prose that is both accessible and readable. ­These revisions ­will help me move closer to that goal. Fi­nally, I appreciated Reviewer 3’s recommendation that I more clearly situate myself in relation to the research. Reviewer 2 wrote, “I r­ eally appreciated Atwood’s acknowl­edgment of himself in the manuscript. ­These indications of the author’s historical and subjective investments in his research hit just the right notes, in my opinion. They added to the book’s intellectual appeal.” To strengthen this appeal, I ­will centralize information about my own positionality in a preface. The reviewers, especially Reviewer 3, gave specific suggestions on minor m ­ atters throughout the manuscript. I ­will consider each of them carefully as I revise each chapter. I am enthusiastic about implementing ­these changes to Under­ground, and I truly appreciate the MIT Press’s continued interest in the book. If you require any additional information or would like clarification on any of the points I have outlined, please do not hesitate to contact me. Other­wise, I look forward to hearing your decision. Sincerely, Blake Atwood

Suggestions for Further Reading

The resources listed h­ ere all have useful information about book writing and publishing. Some are aimed specifically at scholars and academic writers, while some ­will be useful beyond the academic context. If you are hoping to publish a crossover book or branch out into trade publishing with your next proj­ect, you’ll benefit from learning more about the publishing industry in general. My gentle warning with t­ hese recommended resources is not to use reading about writing and publishing to displace or postpone actually writing and publishing your book. I find guidebooks like the ones below to be most helpful when I feel stuck or just need some inspiration to think about my proj­ ect in a dif­fer­ent way. I hope they w ­ ill prove similarly helpful for you. If you want to learn more about how academic book publishing works and what editors are looking for, I highly recommend Melody Herr’s Writing and Publishing Your Book: A Guide for Experts in E ­ very Field (Greenwood, 2017). In this slim volume, Herr packs in a ton of practical advice and examples, and covers territory from book conception to contract negotiation to marketing. William Germano’s Getting It Published: A Guide for Scholars and Anyone Else Serious about Serious Books (University of Chicago Press, Third Edition, 2016) is also a classic in this area. Germano goes both deep and broad on the world of scholarly publishing, with a strong—at times philosophical—­voice and the perspective that comes from de­cades of experience as an acquisitions editor and director at multiple academic publishers. Beth Luey’s Handbook for Academic Authors (Cambridge University Press, Fifth Edition, 2010) goes into extensive detail about many aspects of academic publishing. This book w ­ ill be especially useful if you are thinking beyond publishing a monograph, b­ ecause Luey also covers journal articles, multiauthor anthologies, textbooks, and digital works. In addition to the above books, ­there are ­others that help authors understand how editors work with manuscripts and what goes into improving work for publication. Peter Ginna’s What Editors Do: The Art, Craft, and Business of Book Editing (University of Chicago Press, 2017) contains some chapters by academic editors that scholarly authors w ­ ill find particularly useful. Susan Rabiner and Alfred Fortunato’s Thinking Like Your Editor: How to Write 177

178  •  Suggestions for Further Reading

­ reat Serious Nonfiction—­and Get It Published (Norton, 2002) explains G what a good proposal can do for authors and spells out the qualities that make editors take notice of new book proj­ects. It’s not specifically geared t­ oward academic writers, and t­ here are some nuances of scholarly publishing it d­ oesn’t address, but it’s nonetheless a favorite among editors who work with scholarly texts. ­There are many books out ­there that ­will help you improve—or just think reflectively about—­your academic writing style. I like Eric Hayot’s The Ele­ ments of Academic Style: Writing for the Humanities (Columbia University Press, 2014) for its tips on how to get writing done as well as its strategies for effectively structuring academic texts. Helen Sword’s Stylish Academic Writ­ ing (Harvard University Press, 2012) provides further advice on refining voice and pre­sen­ta­tion in your writing. Scott Norton’s Developmental Editing: A Handbook for Freelancers, Authors, and Publishers (University of Chicago Press, 2009) has some practical techniques for sorting out ­matters of argument and narrative, which ­will help you if you ­aren’t yet sure about the big idea that’s driving your book, or how you should lay out the book’s contents in order to best support that idea and hold the reader’s interest. For authors who specifically wish to transform their doctoral dissertations into marketable books that w ­ ill appeal to university presses or other academic publishers, I recommend three valuable guides. All are quick to read and ­will make you aware of the major items to look out for as you undertake your revisions and search for a publisher. The first title is The Thesis and the Book: A Guide for First-­Time Academic Authors, edited by Eleanor Hartman, Ian Montagnes, Siobhan McMenemy, and Chris Bucci (University of Toronto Press, Second Edition, 2003). The second is Revising Your Dissertation: Advice from Leading Editors, edited by Beth Luey (University of California Press, Updated Edition, 2008). And fi­nally, ­there’s William Germano’s From Dis­ sertation to Book (University of Chicago Press, Second Edition, 2013). Even if ­you’re not revising a dissertation, t­ hese books are helpful for identifying— by contrast with the typical dissertation—­what makes a scholarly book connect with a broader readership. A few additional titles are aimed at trade writers (of both fiction and nonfiction), but substantial parts of them w ­ ill be helpful even for scholarly authors. Courtney Maum’s Before and ­After the Book Deal: A Writer’s Guide to Fin­ ishing, Publishing, Promoting, and Surviving Your First Book (Catapult, 2020) has practical advice on what you can be ­doing to promote your book ­after ­you’ve finished writing it, both before and ­after publication. This book stands out for its attention to issues particularly affecting “authors from mar-

Suggestions for Further Reading  •  179

ginalized communities,” including disabled authors, queer authors, and authors of color. Anne Trubek’s So You Want to Publish a Book? (­Belt Publishing, 2020) is a brief guide to what book publication looks like ­today, covering proposals, production, distribution, and sales, with a focus on in­de­pen­dent trade publishing. Fi­nally, Jane Friedman’s The Business of Being a Writer (University of Chicago Press, 2017) is full of practical guidance for working writers. The chapters on nonfiction book proposals and publishing ­w ill be particularly useful to you if you are thinking of casting your net beyond traditional academic publishers when you pitch your book proj­ect.

Bibliography

Ames, Morgan G. The Charisma Machine: The Life, Death, and Legacy of One Laptop per Child. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2019. Atwood, Blake. Under­ground: The Secret Life of Videocassettes in Iran. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2021. Association of University Presses. “About University Presses.” Accessed February 17, 2020. http://­aupresses​ .­org​/­about​-­aaup​/­about​-­university​-­presses. Bielstein, Susan M. Permissions: A Survival Guide. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006. Cheney-­Lippold, John. We Are Data: Algorithms and the Making of Our Digital Selves. New York: New York University Press, 2017. Cherry, Elizabeth. For the Birds: Protecting Wildlife through the Naturalist Gaze. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2019. Finn, Megan. Documenting Aftermath: Information Infrastructures in the Wake of Disasters. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2018. Friedman, Jane. The Business of Being a Writer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2018. Germano, William. From Dissertation to Book. 2nd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013. —­—­—. Getting It Published: A Guide for Scholars and Anyone Else Serious about Serious Books. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2016. Ginna, Peter. What Editors Do: The Art, Craft, and Business of Book Editing. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2017. Gutiérrez y Muhs, Gabriella, Yolanda Flores Niemann, Carmen G. González, and Angela P. Harris, eds. Presumed Incompetent: The Intersections of Race and Class for ­Women in Academia. Boulder, CO: Utah State University Press, 2012. Hartman, Eleanor, Ian Montagnes, Siobhan McMenemy, and Chris Bucci, eds. The Thesis and the Book: A Guide for First-­Time Academic Authors. 2nd ed. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008. Hayot, Eric. The Ele­ments of Academic Style: Writing for the Humanities. New York: Columbia University Press, 2014. Herr, Melody. Writing and Publishing Your Book: A Guide for Experts in ­Every Field. Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood, 2017. Jackson, Phillip. Life in Classrooms. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1968. Keel, Terence. Divine Variations: How Christian Thought Became Racial Science. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2018. Kleinman, Julie. Adventure Capital: Migration and the Making of an African Hub in Paris. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2019. Lindtner, Silvia M. Prototype Nation: China and the Contested Promise of Innovation. Prince­ton, NJ: Prince­ton University Press, 2020. Luey, Beth. Handbook for Academic Authors. 5th ed. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2010. —­—­—­, ed. Revising Your Dissertation: Advice from Leading Editors. Updated edition. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008. Maron, Nancy L., Christine Mulhern, Daniel Rossman, and Kimberly Schmelzinger, “The Costs of Publishing Monographs: ­Toward a Transparent Methodology.” Ithaka S+R. Last Modified February 5, 2016. https://­doi​.­org​/­10​.­18665​/­sr​.­276785.

181

182 • Bibliography

Maum, Courtney. Before and ­After the Book Deal: A Writer’s Guide to Finishing, Publishing, Promoting, and Surviving Your First Book. New York: Catapult, 2020. McClearen, Jennifer. Fighting Visibility: Sports Media and Female Athletes in the UFC. Champaign, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2021. Norton, Scott. “Bringing Your Own Voice to the ­Table.” In Revising Your Dissertation: Advice from Leading Editors, edited by Beth Luey, 70–103. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008. —­—­—. Developmental Editing: A Handbook for Freelancers, Authors, and Publishers. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009. Petrey, Taylor G. Tabernacles of Clay: Sexuality and Gender in Modern Mormonism. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2020. Portwood-­Stacer, Laura. Lifestyle Politics and Radical Activism. New York: Bloomsbury, 2013. Rabiner, Susan, and Alfred Fortunato. Thinking Like Your Editor: How to Write G ­ reat Serious Nonfiction—­and Get It Published. New York: Norton, 2002. Sentilles, Renée M. American Tomboys 1850–1915. Amherst: University of Mas­sa­chu­setts Press, 2018. Sisler, William P. “­You’re the Author Now.” In Revising Your Dissertation: Advice from Leading Editors, edited by Beth Luey, 17–23. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008. Stim, Richard. Getting Permission: Using and Licensing Copyright-­Protected Materials, Online and Off. 7th ed. Berkeley, CA: NOLO, 2019. Swartz, Lana. New Money: How Payment Became Social Media. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2020. Sword, Helen. Stylish Academic Writing. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2012. Tolliver, Cedric R. Of Vagabonds and Fellow Travelers: African Diaspora Literary Culture and the Cultural Cold War. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2019. Toor, Rachel. “The Real­ity of Writing a Good Book Proposal.” Chronicle of Higher Education, February 11, 2013. Accessed February 27, 2020. https://­www​.­chronicle​.­com​/­article​/­The​-­Reality​-­of​-­Writing​-­a​-­Good​ /­137207. Weiman-­Kelman, Zohar. Queer Expectations: A Genealogy of Jewish ­Women’s Poetry. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2018.

Time-­Tested Tips and Frequently Asked Questions by Chapter

Chapter 1: Know the Pro­cess Time-­Tested Tips

• Make your work findable.  18 • Use the AUP Subject Area Grid as a starting point for finding publishers.  18 • Focus on what makes your book a good fit.  18 Frequently Asked Questions

• As an academic author, do I have to publish my book with a university press?  19 • Do I need a literary agent in order to get published by an academic press?  20 • Are all university presses basically the same?  21 • How can I identify the right presses when my book ­doesn’t fit neatly into established fields or subject ­matter categories?  21 • My book is particularly theoretical, po­liti­cal, illustration-­heavy, or some other characteristic that feels dif­fer­ent from the norms of the scholarly books I’ve seen. How can I find a press that ­will publish it?  22 • How do I find a press that ­will support the digital, multimedia components I envision for my book?  22 • Should I be looking for publishers who offer open access options for their books?  22 • What are the advantages of publishing with a series?  23 • Why do I need to narrow my list to a few presses? Why not just send proposals to ­every press on my long list at once?  23 • An editor approached me saying they are trying to build a new list or series in my subject area, but their press ­hasn’t published any books similar to mine yet. Should I consider their press?  24 • I’ve heard that reputable publishers d­ on’t publish dissertations. Should I be wary if an editor approaches me about publishing my dissertation as a book?  24 • When is a good time to first approach a publisher I’m interested in?  25 • Do my proj­ect and proposal have to be perfect to have a chance at connecting with an acquiring editor?  25 Chapter 2: Write for Publication Time-­Tested Tips

• Keep your letter of inquiry short, but thorough.  34 183

184  •  Time-Tested Tips and FAQs

Frequently Asked Questions

• ­Will having the first book on my topic give me an edge with publishers?  34 • Do I need to show that my proj­ect is relevant to current events in order to appeal to publishers?  35 • If my proj­ect is set in a non-­U.S. location, do I need to show that it has U.S. connections in order to appeal to U.S. publishers?  36 Chapter 3: Find Your Place Time-­Tested Tips

• Pay attention to the publishers of your comp titles and stay in your lane.  41 • Emphasize the positive.  41 • Know your target press’s offerings.  42 Frequently Asked Questions

• How many books should I include as comparable works?  42 • What if t­ here are no other recently published books on my precise topic?  42 • Should my comps include popu­lar, nonscholarly books on my same topic?  42 • Should I include the famous, bestselling book that every­one is talking about right now? Or the new book by the academic celebrity whose name every­one knows?  43 Chapter 4: Identify Your Audiences and Market Time-­Tested Tips

• Translate frameworks and lit­er­a­tures to audiences.  49 • Be realistic about audience interest in your approach.  50 • Offer evidence of audience interest in your topic.  50 • A broader audience ­isn’t always better for a scholarly press.  50 Frequently Asked Questions

• Is the field I work in the same as the audience I’m writing for?  51 • Is t­ here a difference between “audience,” “readership,” and “market” for the purposes of my book proposal?  51 • How much market research do I need to do in order to write my proposal? Do I need to have hard numbers of ­people who might buy my book?  52 • How do I identify a primary audience when my book spans multiple time periods, field sites, methodologies, types of texts, ­etc.?  52 • Should I tout my book’s interdisciplinarity, ­because more fields means more potential readers?  52

Time-Tested Tips and FAQs  •  185

Chapter 5: Showcase Your Core Thesis Time-­Tested Tips

• Prioritize one main argument as the driver for your book.  59 • Use language intentionally to emphasize the presence of a driving thesis.  60 • Use rhetorical questions judiciously.  60 Frequently Asked Questions

• Is it too early to submit a book proposal if I’m still working on my manuscript and I’m not sure what the driving thesis is yet?  61 Chapter 6: Give an Overview Time-­Tested Tips

• Stay general about structure in your proj­ect description.  64 • Make your contribution clear for nonexperts.  64 Frequently Asked Questions

• How long should the proj­ect description be?  65 • Is it better to give my conclusions away in the proposal or to leave my preliminary readers wanting to see more?  65 • How much do I need to talk about my research methods in the proj­ect description?  65 • How much do I need to talk about “the lit­er­a­ture” or other scholarship in relation to my research?  66 • How do I fix a proj­ect description that feels dry or boring?  66 Chapter 7: Expose the Structure Time-­Tested Tips

• Learn from the chapter structures of other books in your genre.  71 • Let the book’s thesis dictate the chapter order and use the chapter summaries to explain the book’s overall organ­ization.  71 • Keep the substance of the book in the body chapters.  72 • ­Every body chapter should advance the argument.  72 • Know your book parts.  72 Frequently Asked Questions

• How long should each chapter summary be?  73 • How many chapters should my book have?  74 • How long should the chapters be in my manuscript?  74 • Should my introduction be chapter 1 or should I start numbering only when I get to the body chapters?  75 • Can my book’s structure change between submitting the proposal and finalizing the manuscript?  75

186  •  Time-Tested Tips and FAQs

Chapter 8: Invite Readers In Time-­Tested Tips

• Use subtitles to convey descriptive information.  79 • Avoid references within titles that are specific to a par­tic­u­lar culture or knowledge base.  80 • Use book and chapter titles to reveal your argument.  80 Frequently Asked Questions

• Can my book have the same title as my dissertation?  81 • Can I change my title if I think of something better a­ fter I submit my proposal?  81 Chapter 9: Put Yourself on the Page Time-­Tested Tips

• Read out loud.  86 • Enlist helpers to identify exclusionary jargon.  86 • Acronyms count as jargon too.  86 • Name-­drop your title.  87 • ­Don’t tell p­ eople what to think.  87 Frequently Asked Questions

• Should I include footnotes or a reference list in my prospectus?  87 • Does my proposal need to be perfectly copy edited before I submit it?  88 • Is t­ here a par­tic­u­lar style guide I need to follow for the proposal?  88 Chapter 10: ­Really Put Yourself on the Page Time-­Tested Tips

• You prob­ably have more qualifications than you realize.  91 Frequently Asked Questions

• How can I convince a publisher that I’m qualified to write a scholarly book?  92 • Does the prestige of my academic institution ­matter? What if I’m not currently affiliated with an institution at all?  93 • ­Will it m ­ atter to U.S. publishers if I got my PhD or currently teach at an institution outside the United States?  93 • If I have life experience or professional credentials from outside academia that are relevant to writing or promoting my book, should I mention ­those?  93 Chapter 11: D ­ on’t Forget the Details Time-­Tested Tips

• Double check the publisher’s submission guidelines.  100

Time-Tested Tips and FAQs  •  187

Frequently Asked Questions

• How long should my book manuscript be?  100 • How much of the manuscript is acceptable to have published previously as journal articles or book chapters?  101 • Should I mention that the proj­ect began as my dissertation?  102 • How do I come up with suggested reviewers?  102 • Can I ask that someone not be considered as a peer reviewer?  103 • Which chapter should I use as a writing sample to accompany my proposal submission?  103 • How polished does my writing sample need to be?  104 • What are some funding sources for subventions that I can put ­toward images and other production costs?  104 • What if t­ here’s something I want the editor to know about my book or how to market it but t­ here’s not a designated space for it in their press’s proposal template?  104

Chapter 12: Make the Connection Time-­Tested Tips

• Get the editor’s name right.  110 • ­Don’t forget about series editors.  110 • Use conversations with editors to gather information about the submission pro­cess and help you decide if the editor and press are right for you.  111 • Be ready with a hard copy of your proposal, just in case.  112 • Ask about next steps and follow up.  112 • Only send what’s asked for.  112 Frequently Asked Questions

• If t­ here are multiple acquisitions editors at my target press who might be appropriate for my proj­ect, should I try to connect with all of them?  113 • If I’m interested in publishing my book with a specific series, should I contact the series editor or the acquisitions editor first?  113 • Should I try to connect with editors at as many presses as pos­si­ble before submitting my proposal?  113 • An editor approached me to discuss my proj­ect. Their press ­isn’t on my target list, but should I talk to them anyway?  114 • Should I try to reconnect with an editor who has declined my proj­ect or not responded to me previously?  114 • I wrote to an editor to schedule a meeting or submit a proposal but never heard back. Should I follow up? How long should I wait before following up?  114 • Do I have to know someone at a press in order to get my proposal considered?  115

188  •  Time-Tested Tips and FAQs

• Should I have someone ­else contact an editor on my behalf before I submit my proposal?  115 • When I connect with an editor, should I mention that I’m on a deadline for tenure or job applications and need to get a contract as quickly as pos­si­ble?  116 • If an editor rejects my proj­ect right away, before having it reviewed, does that mean it’s not good enough and I need to work more on it?  116 • What if an editor responds with feedback or criticism about my proposal?  117 • What should I do if the editor says they want to move forward with review of the proposal?  117 • What should I do if the editor says they need to see more of the manuscript before t­ hey’ll send it out for review?  118 • Is it best to have most of the manuscript written before connecting with editors and pitching a proposal? Or should I be talking to editors early on in the writing pro­cess?  118 • Should I submit my proposal to multiple presses?  119 Chapter 13: Keep Your Cool Time-­Tested Tips

• Think broadly when it comes to revision feedback.  128 • Think concretely when it comes to what you’ll do to improve the manuscript.  129 • Show that ­you’ve seriously considered reviewer feedback, even if you ­don’t agree with it.  129 • A response is not a rebuttal.  130 • Understand and honor your contract.  131 Frequently Asked Questions

• Do I have to do every­thing the peer reviewers tell me to?  131 • What if a reviewer gives me a huge revision suggestion and I’m not sure I want to take it?  132 • What should I do if I receive reader reports that I believe are racist, sexist, or other­wise reflective of bias on the part of the reviewer?  132 • What is an advance contract? Is it as real as a regular contract?  133 • Can I sign an advance contract with one publisher and then seek a contract from a “better” publisher once I’ve completed the full manuscript?  133 Chapter 14: See It Through Time-­Tested Tips

• Know the audience for your cover copy.  142 • Consider outsourcing.  143

Time-Tested Tips and FAQs  •  189

• Value your publisher’s assistant staff.  144 • Stay in touch with your editor.  144 Frequently Asked Questions

• What if the copy editor butchers my manuscript?  144 • What if my editor tells me my book is getting a new title or sends me cover sketches and I hate them?  145 • Should I make the index myself or hire someone ­else to index my book?  146 • Should I urge my publisher to advertise my book or get it reviewed in mass media outlets?  146 • Is it gauche to nominate myself for a book award or have my own publisher nominate me?  147 • How can I successfully promote my book when I’m awful at talking about myself and hyping my own work? ­Can’t my publisher’s publicity department just h­ andle all this?  147

Index

acknowl­edgments, 70, 73 acquisitions editor: collaboration with, 25–26, 149; connecting with (see connecting with an editor); editorial assistants working with, 144; feedback and line edits by, 125; final review of manuscript by, 135; mentioning your time constraints to, 116; offer from, 124–26; princi­ples that guide, 28; response to proposal from, 116–18, 122; results of peer review and, 10–11; revisions to manuscript and, 76; role of, 6–7, 8, 11–12, 25–26, 29; seeking approval for a contract, 11–12; seeking author for new list or series, 24; seeking out potential authors, 18, 90–91. See also questions to ask editors acquisitions pro­cess, 7–8; flowchart of, 13; for trade publishing, 20 acronyms, 86–87 advance contract, 12, 122, 133–34 advance on royalties, 120, 124–25 advertising, 146–47. See also marketing and promotion afterword, 73 agent, 20–21, 25 annotated ­table of contents, 68, 71, 99. See also chapter summaries appendices, 70, 73 AQ (author questionnaire), 47–48, 137–39, 141 argument, defined, 56 argument of the book, 54–61; advanced by ­every chapter, 72; chapter-­level contributions to, 60, 68–70, 74, 79, 81; chapter order dictated by, 71–72; developed before submitting proposal, 61; editors’ desire for strong thesis and, 28, 29, 54; as main thesis, 57; with nested sub-­arguments, 60; one-­liner

version of, 58–59, 109; one-­paragraph summary of, 57–58, 109; prioritizing one main argument, 59–60; in proj­ect description, 62, 63; revealed in book and chapter titles, 80–81; rhetorical questions and, 60–61; stating, 56–58; strong, 28, 29, 54–55, 61, 85; strong verbs in proposal and, 60 art. See images Association of University Presses Subject Area Grid, 18 Atwood, Blake, 173–76 audience, 44–53; articulating, 46–49; for book spanning multiple contexts, 52; comps and, 37–39, 42; for cover copy, 142–43; for cover design, 146; for crossover book, 46, 50–51; demonstrating sufficient size of, 27; described in prospectus, 7, 63; for dif­fer­ent approach to shake up a field, 50; distinct from market, 51; estimating number of readers in, 52; evidence of interest in your topic and, 35, 50; for first book on a topic, 34–35; four dif­fer­ent types of, 44–46; interdisciplinarity and, 52–53; known best by the author, 148–49; letter of inquiry and, 32, 48; marketing and, 44, 46–49, 51, 93–94, 142; nonacademic professionals in, 93–94; not too specific, 49; for research set outside U.S., 36; of subfield rather than broad field, 51; title and, 146; well-­defined for publisher to target, 44. See also readers author biography, 90–91, 92, 94; previously published material listed in, 97–98 author platform, 43, 89–90, 91, 92, 93 author questionnaire, 47–48, 137–39, 141 Authors Guild, 131 award submissions, 139, 141, 142, 147

191

192 • Index

background knowledge, woven into body chapters, 72 back ­matter, 70 biased reader reports, 132–33 bibliography, 70 big idea, 55, 60, 62, 78. See also argument of the book blog: in author platform, 89, 92; promotion using, 139, 142 blurbs, 138 book reviews editors, 139 Branded Difference (McClearen), 157, 165–72 cata­log listing of publisher, 138 chapters: changed in developmental editing, 76; with cohesive, bounded argument, 74; lengths of, 74–75; number of, 74; order of, 71–72; roughly equal in length, 75 chapter summaries, 68–76; book title and, 78; with clear sense of direction, 69; contents of, 70–71; creating for already-­published books, 71; length of, 73–74; organ­ization of book revealed by, 71–72; in prospectus, 7, 99; style and voice in, 85; transitional language in, 69–70 chapter titles: effective examples of, 79; provided with chapter summaries, 70; searchable, 77; with wording that reveals argument, 81 checklists: for assessing proposal, 153–55; for evaluating publishers, 15–16; steps to complete, 151–52 Cherry, Elizabeth, 48–49, 57–58, 157–64 Chicago Manual of Style, 88 coda, 70, 73 commercial academic presses, 8, 19, 20 committee. See internal committee’s approval comparable or competing books, 37–43; from comparable publishers, 41; emphasizing the positive about, 41; found when researching presses, 15, 39; including one from target press, 42; nonscholarly books in, 42–43; number to include, 42; as section of pro­ spectus, 7, 37–40; for similar audiences, 37–39, 42; well-­known titles in, 43

conclusion chapter, 70, 72, 73; length of, 75 conclusions of the book, 62, 63, 65 confident language, 85 connecting with an editor: approaching you though not on target list, 114; by drafting initial email, 107–9; by following up if never heard back, 114–15; with follow-up email ­after conversation, 112; getting their name right, 31, 110; if you know someone at their press, 115; initial contact in, 8–9, 61, 105–9; by introduction from mutual acquaintance, 115–16; making your work findable for, 18; only one at a specific press, 113; with partial or full manuscript, 118–19; questions to ask during conversation and, 111; to reconnect a­ fter change in your proj­ect, 114; with series editor, 110, 113; total number to aim for, 113–14. See also acquisitions editor; letter of inquiry; target presses contract: advance contract, 12, 122, 133–34; being sure to understand, 131; with deadline to complete manuscript, 144; editor seeking internal approval for, 10, 11–12; negotiating, 12, 124–26; reviewed by Authors Guild, 131; signing, 126, 131; trying to get released from, 133, 134 copy editing of your book: disagreements with edits of, 144–45; production editor and, 136; provided by press in contract, 125; in publisher’s cost calculations, 95; receiving manuscript following, 136–37 copy editing of your proposal, 86, 88 copyrighted material. See permissions core thesis. See argument of the book costs of publishing scholarly book: assigned to author, 96; components of, 95–96; funding for, 96–97, 104; images in book and, 96–97, 104; length of manuscript and, 96; publisher revenues and, 27 course instructors: disciplinary jargon and, 83; promotion to, 142 cover copy: audience for, 142–43; author questionnaire and, 138, 141; hiring freelancer to write, 143 cover design, 137, 145–46

Index • 193

credentials of author, 7, 89–90; convincing a publisher about, 92–93; describing in factual terms, 87; in letter of inquiry, 33; list to start you on, 91–92; from outside academia, 93–94 criticism: in peer reviewers’ reports, 123; worrying about, 29, 85, 105 crossover books, 20, 21; audience for, 46, 50–51; as goal of writing, 149; in list of comps, 41 current events, relevance to, 35–36, 140 CV: author version of, 7, 90, 91, 92; sending as email attachment, 110 deadlines: for award submission, 141; in contract, 128, 144; for manuscript submission, 97, 118, 119, 144; in production editor’s phase, 136 design: costs of, 96; of cover, 137, 145–46 designers, 136 developmental editor: hiring freelance help of, 104, 117, 124; tasks of, 75–76 digital components, 22 discount code: for adopting instructors, 141; on flyers, 139; for preorders, 140, 141 dissertation: embargo of, 102; goals of acquisitions editors and, 29; mentioning book’s origins as, 102; stylistic issues in, 82; title of book and, 81; turning into book manuscript, 55; unrevised, 24–25, 28, 82 due dates. See deadlines editorial assistants, 144 editorial board: composition of, 11; editor’s pre­sen­ta­tion to, 11–12; giving approval to offer a contract, 6–7, 11; results of peer review and, 10; results of second review and, 136 editors. See acquisitions editor; copy editing of your book; developmental editor; production editor endorsements, for promoting your book, 138, 141 epilogue, 70, 73 exclusive submission, 10, 23, 117–18, 120–21

fair use, 136 filling a gap in the lit­er­a­ture, 28–29, 34 first book on your topic, 34–35 fit: of press with your goals, 15–16; of your book with press’s offerings, 14, 17, 18–19, 33 footnotes in proposal, 87–88 foreword, 73 formatting manuscript for publisher’s guidelines, 136, 143 For the Birds (Cherry), 48–49, 57–58, 157–64 Fortunato, Alfred, 82 freelancers, hiring, 143 front ­matter, 70 general readers, 46. See also crossover books Germano, William, 117 goals for your book, 149–50 hedgy language, 85 illustrations. See images illustrator, hiring, 124–25 images: costs associated with, 96–97; discussed in prospectus, 7; permissions for use of, 124, 136; submitting for manuscript production, 136; subvention for cost of, 104 in­de­pen­dent publishers of serious nonfiction, 19, 20 in­de­pen­dent scholars, 2, 93 index: author’s responsibility for, 96, 125; created at same time as proofreading, 137; not summarized in proposal, 70 indexer, professional: advance to cover cost of, 125; funding for cost of, 104, 146; hiring freelancer, 143, 146; preparing to do it yourself, 146 initialisms, 86–87 institution ­you’re affiliated with, 93 interdisciplinarity, and audience, 52–53, 83 internal committee’s approval: to offer you a contract, 10, 11; to proceed with peer review, 9 interviews, promotional, 140

194 • Index

introduction chapter: as Chapter 1, 75; common and expected, 73; contents of, 72; covered in chapter summaries, 70, 72; length of, 75; as writing sample, 103 jargon, disciplinary, 83, 86 job applications, and timing of contract, 116 keywords: book title and, 78; for marketing your book, 138, 142; on your website, 91 length of manuscript, 95, 96, 100–101 letter of inquiry, 30–34; audiences and markets in, 32, 48; author biography in, 90; core argument in, 55, 57; length of, 34; omitting footnotes or references, 88; one-­liner in, 59; press instructions and, 109–10; sample of, 173; sending if no submission instructions, 112; sending with proposal, 109–10; to series editor, 113, 173; simultaneous submission mentioned in, 33, 98; style and voice in, 85; template for, 31–33 life experience outside academia, 93–94 list of acquiring editor’s books, 8; building new list, 24 literary agent, 20–21, 25 lit­er­a­ture review: distinct from comps list, 37–38; revised from dissertation, 102, 103; as tool for articulating audience, 49; unnecessary in proposal, 28–29, 63, 66 Luey, Beth, 101 manuscript: difficulty meeting contract deadline for, 144; finishing a­ fter signing contract, 75–76, 135–36, 144; length of, 95, 96, 100–101; never sending u­ nless asked, 112; preparing for production, 136; reviewed a second time when finished, 135–36; specifications of, 95–97; status of, 7, 97. See also peer review; revision of manuscript marginalized groups of scholars, 2–3, 16, 111, 120 market: compared to audience, 51; comps and, 37–39; reviewers’ perceptions of, 10

marketing and promotion: audience and, 44, 46–49, 51, 93–94, 142; author questionnaire used in, 47–48, 137–39, 141; author’s promotion efforts, 139–42, 147; foreword or afterword used in, 73; title of book and, 77, 81, 126, 137, 145–46. See also publicist McClearen, Jennifer, 157, 165–72 methods. See research methods multimedia components, 22 multiple submissions, 10, 17, 23–24, 33, 98, 119–21 offer, 124–26. See also contract one-­liner: book title and, 78; capturing main claim, 58, 62; effective examples of, 58–59; practicing, 109; used in promotion, 142 open access, 22–23, 96 oppressed groups of scholars, 2–3, 16, 111, 120 organ­ization. See structure and arc of book outsourcing tasks, 104, 124–25, 143 overview. See proj­ect description passive voice, 84 peer review: acquiring editor arranging for, 9, 122; acquiring editor’s decision based on, 10–11; committee approval to proceed with, 9; with exclusivity requested, 10, 23, 117–18; by in­de­pen­dent publishers, 19; materials needed for, 9–10; not anonymous in both directions, 10; of partial vs. full manuscript, 119; second round of, 11, 135–36 peer reviewers, 6–7; asking to exclude someone, 103; persons suggested in proposal, 98, 102–3; viewed as collaborators, 149 peer reviewers’ reports, responding to: decision-­making by the press and, 10, 122–24; if racist or other­wise biased, 132–33; if you ­don’t agree, 129–32; with revision plan, 124, 126–30, 131–32, 135–36; sample document, 173–76; ­after second review, 135–36; template for, 127–28; thinking broadly in, 128; thinking concretely in, 129

Index • 195

permissions, 136; for author’s previously published material, 97–98; cost to author, 96; hiring freelancer to deal with, 143; to use copyrighted images, 124, 136 practical implications of your research, 45–46 prac­ti­tion­ers, as audience for your book, 45–46, 50 praising your own work, 87 preface, 70, 72–73 previously published material, 97–98, 101 production editor, 136 production phase, 136–37 proj­ect description, 62–67; book title and, 78; copy edit of, 86; following guidelines from target presses, 64; length of, 65; making contribution clear, 64–65; not excessively abstract, 66–67; other p­ eople’s scholarship in, 63, 66, 83–84, 85; research methods in, 63, 65–66; staying general about structure, 63, 64; style and voice in, 85; template for, 62–63, 64 promotion. See marketing and promotion proofreading of typeset proofs, 137, 143; advance to cover cost of, 125; cost to author, 96; funding for cost of, 104; hiring freelancer for, 137, 143 proposal: checklist for assessing, 153–55; checklist of steps to complete, 151–52; editor’s feedback or criticism about, 117; generating raw material for, 30; including prospectus, CV, and writing samples, 7; meeting editor with hard copy of, 112; publisher’s submission instructions for, 9, 17, 104, 109–10; sending only what’s asked for, 112; strong core argument in, 55, 61, 85; submitting, 109–10; submitting before manuscript is finished, 118–19; tailored to each publisher, 121; unrequested information in, 104. See also CV; prospectus; writing sample prospectus: assembling, 99–100; components of, 7, 99 (see also specific components); defined, 7; examples of, 157–72; sending as email attachment, 110. See also proj­ect description

publicist, 139–41, 142, 146–47. See also marketing and promotion publishers: types of, 19–20. See also target presses; university presses publisher’s guidelines: for formatting manuscript, 136, 143; for submission of proposal, 9, 17, 100, 109–10, 112 publisher’s website: promotion of your book on, 138; submission instructions on, 9, 17, 109–10, 112 publishing pro­cess. See acquisitions pro­cess qualifications. See credentials of author questionnaire for marketing department, 47–48, 137–39, 141 questions to ask editors: about contract, 125, 131, 133–34; about proposal submission, 33, 103, 106, 113, 117, 119; about reader reports, 122, 132; when gauging compatibility, 9, 11, 106–8, 111 Rabiner, Susan, 82 racist reader reports, 132–33 readers: distinct from market, 51; need to attract sufficient number of, 27; preliminary, in publishing pro­cess, 6–7, 8; in United States, 36; writing in order to connect with, 6; writing proposal for certain kind of, 29. See also audience; peer reviewers reading materials out loud, 86 references in proposal, 87–88 research methods: in appendix, 73; in proj­ect description, 63, 65–66; in summary of introduction, 70 review copies, 139, 140 reviewers. See peer reviewers revision of manuscript: advance contract and, 133; to prepare for second review, 11; in response to reviewers’ reports, 124, 126–30, 131–32; in response to second review, 135–36; to restructure ­after signing contract, 75–76 revision of proposal, for style and voice, 85–86

196 • Index

rhetorical questions, 60–61 royalties: advance on, 120, 124–25; negotiating, 125; in publisher’s cost calculations, 96 sample chapters. See writing sample sample documents: letter of inquiry by Atwood, 173; prospectus for Branded Difference, 165–72; prospectus for For the Birds, 157–64; response to reader reports by Atwood, 173–76 sample of your writing. See writing sample scholarly book, parts of, 72–73 scholarly presses. See commercial academic presses; university presses scholars, as audience, 45 search engine optimization (SEO): book title and, 77; pre­sen­ta­tion titles and, 18 series: call for proposals for, 9, 113; pos­si­ble advantages of, 23; of press trying to build new series, 24 series editors, 6, 8, 9; connecting with, 110, 113; final review of manuscript done by, 135; letter of inquiry to, 113, 173 sexist reader reports, 132–33 simultaneous submissions, 10, 23–24, 33, 98, 107, 119–21 social media: acquiring editors active on, 17, 18; author biography and, 90; author platform and, 89, 92; contacting editor on, 8; promoting your book on, 139, 140 status of manuscript, 7, 97 steps to complete, checklist for, 151–52 strong argument, 28, 29, 54–56, 61, 85 structure and arc of book: chapter order and, 71–72; chapter summaries and, 70–72; clear sense of direction and, 69; developmental editor and, 75–76; in proj­ect description, 63, 64 students as audience, 45. See also course instructors style guide: for use by copy editor, 137, 145; to use for proposal, 88 style of proposal: conveying personal voice, 82, 86; copy editing and, 86, 88; not praising or undercutting yourself, 87;

recurring issues with, 82–85; repeating the title, 87 subject of book: identifying target presses for, 18; not fitting usual categories, 21–22 submission of manuscript for production, 136 submission of proposal, 109–10; exclusive, 10, 23, 117–18, 120–21; before manuscript is finished, 118–19; to multiple publishers, 10, 17, 23–24, 33, 98, 119–21; publisher’s guidelines for, 9, 17, 100, 109–10, 112 subtitle: descriptive information in, 79–80; effective examples, 78–79; pro­cess to come up with, 78; wording that reveals argument, 80–81 subvention: for production costs, 97, 104; for professional indexer, 104, 146 ­table of contents: annotated, 68, 71, 99; in prospectus, 7; with well-­crafted chapter titles, 77–78, 81. See also chapter summaries target presses, 8; for book dif­fer­ent from norms of scholarly books, 21–22; for book with digital components, 22; for book with open access, 22–23; building a new list or series, 24; evaluating, 15–16; gathering submission information for, 17; goals for your book and, 149; good time for first approach, 25; identifying, 14–15; identifying subjects published by, 18; number to send proposal to, 23–24 (see also multiple submissions); researching, 15–16; summarizing your book’s fit with, 17, 18–19; types of, 19–20, 21. See also connecting with an editor templates: for letters to editors, 31–33, 108; for proj­ect description, 62–64; provided by publishers, 64, 90, 98, 104; for response to reader reports, 127–28 tenure: deadline for, 116; scholarly audience and, 45 thesis. See argument of the book time constraints on your end, 116 timeliness of topic, 35–36 timeline to completion: estimated in proposal, 97; of revisions ­after peer review, 127–28; sample chapters and, 99

Index • 197

title of book, 77–81; avoiding references to specific knowledge, 80; changes advised by editor or marketing team, 81, 126, 137, 145–46; changing a­ fter submission of proposal, 81; effective examples of, 78–79; not using dissertation title, 81; pro­cess to come up with, 78; repeating in the proposal, 87; wording that reveals argument, 80; working title, 7, 99 topic. See argument of the book; subject of book trade presses, 19–20; literary agents and, 21. See also crossover books typesetters, 136 typesetting, 137. See also proofreading of typeset proofs underrepresented groups of scholars, 2–3, 16, 111, 120

university presses, 8, 19; differences among, 21; trade titles published by, 20, 21. See also acquisitions editor; editorial board; series; target presses voice of author: confidence in your vision and, 148; editors’ preferences for, 82; reading out loud and, 86 website of author: description of book proj­ect on, 90–91; posting images on, 96; posting supplemental material on, 22 website of publisher. See publisher’s website word count: for a chapter, 70, 74; for the manuscript, 7, 96, 100–101 working title, 7, 99 writing sample, 7, 98–99; choice of chapter for, 103; including notes and bibliography, 104; peer review of, 10; polished status of, 104; sending as email attachment, 110