My first course in graduate school was sort of a getting-to-know-you roundtable. Every week, students would read an article or chapter by a different professor in the department and then discuss it with him/her. The most interesting presentation by far came from a sociologist who was near retirement. He had us read one of his articles that had been rejected for publication, with the reviewers’ criticism attached. I think we were supposed to learn a lesson about humility but also (given the tone of some of the comments) about the occasional pettiness of academic publishing. For me, it was just great to see the process of article submission, which, like so many things in academia, can seem shrouded in mystery. I hope the following post can offer the same sort of guidance to other graduate students out there.
Two years ago, in a burst of ambition, I resolved to get my first article published. I was only a few years into graduate school but thought that I could produce a piece on par with some of those that I had read. And whatever the outcome, it seemed, the submission process itself would be a learning experience.
At the outset, I decided to get some practice. When a call went out on the H-Net listserv for book reviewers, I took it. I also submitted an article to a state magazine of history and toyed with other writing outlets (review essays, op-eds, and serious blog posts) that could hone my prose and force me to stay current on historiographical and policy debates.
Next, I selected the piece that I wanted to submit, a seminar paper about social studies reform during the Cold War. Most people, I suspect, would choose a portion of their master’s thesis or a chapter of their dissertation, but I thought that the piece in question was colorful and added something to current historical debates. Moreover, if it got accepted it might leave me with a deeper reservoir of material for later submissions.
Where to submit? Friends and professors suggested that I find a small, focused but reputable source, something that I myself read. I thought History of Education Quarterly was the best fit for my material, but others might look at the Teachers College Record, Journal of Negro Education, Paedagogica Historica, etc. An easy way to gauge whether a journal is a good fit is to look at its tables of contents over the past few years (almost always available online), or to look at the vitae of young scholars that you admire and see where they have published.
Some painfully obvious advice: before submitting, edit ruthlessly. After spending several weeks reorganizing and embellishing sections of my paper, I began to pare down extraneous material. It was shocking how much there was. Going through a draft with fresh eyes, I had to reevaluate whether every quote was crucial to the argument, whether I could phrase my points more concisely, and if I really needed the padded footnotes that often buttress my writing. (No. Yes. No.) Also, I had to review my sources several times. Editors are serious about fact-checking and, as Emily mentioned in an earlier post, it can be difficult to retrieve file and folder numbers long after conducting research.
Even after all that, my first round of revisions included some forehead-slapping mistakes in fact and emphasis. But overall the revision process was relatively painless. The reviewers offered some comments that were quite helpful in clarifying my argument. I ignored others that seemed too far afield.
Some less obvious advice: be cognizant of the time lag that “peer review” entails. After receiving your draft, a journal needs to secure anonymous reviewers, send them copies, wait for their comments, return it to you for revisions, and then repeat the process several more times. In my case, there was only one round of significant revisions, followed by an acceptance with more minor changes, and that took over six months. Even now I am not sure exactly when the piece will go into print. Most journals, I think, have a delay of at least a year or two and—as happened to me with a different, non-academic article—publication dates can get pushed back multiple times. None of this bothers me at the moment, but I can imagine that pressing job interviews or tenure reviews could make the process a bit more hectic. In short: plan ahead!
Anyway, I hope this post is in some way helpful to aspiring scholars out there. I would love to hear about others’ experiences (positive or negative) in the comments section.
Two years ago, in a burst of ambition, I resolved to get my first article published. I was only a few years into graduate school but thought that I could produce a piece on par with some of those that I had read. And whatever the outcome, it seemed, the submission process itself would be a learning experience.
At the outset, I decided to get some practice. When a call went out on the H-Net listserv for book reviewers, I took it. I also submitted an article to a state magazine of history and toyed with other writing outlets (review essays, op-eds, and serious blog posts) that could hone my prose and force me to stay current on historiographical and policy debates.
Next, I selected the piece that I wanted to submit, a seminar paper about social studies reform during the Cold War. Most people, I suspect, would choose a portion of their master’s thesis or a chapter of their dissertation, but I thought that the piece in question was colorful and added something to current historical debates. Moreover, if it got accepted it might leave me with a deeper reservoir of material for later submissions.
Where to submit? Friends and professors suggested that I find a small, focused but reputable source, something that I myself read. I thought History of Education Quarterly was the best fit for my material, but others might look at the Teachers College Record, Journal of Negro Education, Paedagogica Historica, etc. An easy way to gauge whether a journal is a good fit is to look at its tables of contents over the past few years (almost always available online), or to look at the vitae of young scholars that you admire and see where they have published.
Some painfully obvious advice: before submitting, edit ruthlessly. After spending several weeks reorganizing and embellishing sections of my paper, I began to pare down extraneous material. It was shocking how much there was. Going through a draft with fresh eyes, I had to reevaluate whether every quote was crucial to the argument, whether I could phrase my points more concisely, and if I really needed the padded footnotes that often buttress my writing. (No. Yes. No.) Also, I had to review my sources several times. Editors are serious about fact-checking and, as Emily mentioned in an earlier post, it can be difficult to retrieve file and folder numbers long after conducting research.
Even after all that, my first round of revisions included some forehead-slapping mistakes in fact and emphasis. But overall the revision process was relatively painless. The reviewers offered some comments that were quite helpful in clarifying my argument. I ignored others that seemed too far afield.
Some less obvious advice: be cognizant of the time lag that “peer review” entails. After receiving your draft, a journal needs to secure anonymous reviewers, send them copies, wait for their comments, return it to you for revisions, and then repeat the process several more times. In my case, there was only one round of significant revisions, followed by an acceptance with more minor changes, and that took over six months. Even now I am not sure exactly when the piece will go into print. Most journals, I think, have a delay of at least a year or two and—as happened to me with a different, non-academic article—publication dates can get pushed back multiple times. None of this bothers me at the moment, but I can imagine that pressing job interviews or tenure reviews could make the process a bit more hectic. In short: plan ahead!
Anyway, I hope this post is in some way helpful to aspiring scholars out there. I would love to hear about others’ experiences (positive or negative) in the comments section.
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