Professional Development Panel

This morning, at 11 am, it is my honor to present on a professional development panel with Dr. Antoinette Burton (professor of history, UIUC) and Dr. Carina Ray (professor of African and Afro-American studies, Brandeis). The panel will take place at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign's Graduate Symposium on Women's and Gender History. We'll discuss preparing papers for publication, transitioning to the tenure track, and revising your dissertation into a book.

Of course, when the panel was planned, we had no idea that we'd be presenting at the same time as a Bernie Sanders rally elsewhere on campus!

New Book: Sabine N. Meyer's We Are What We Drink: The Temperance Battle in Minnesota

A book about the battle over the bottle in the Twin Cities.
We Are What We Drink: The Temperance Battle in Minnesota
by Sabine N. Meyer
University of Illinois Press, 2015

Focusing on the Twin Cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minnesota, Sabine Meyer's We Are What We Drink intertwines national, regional, and urban history during the Progressive era, along with the political motivations and legislative actions at the city and state level in Minnesota, to unravel the temperance movement’s relationship to and effect on identity constructions as well as social, ethnic, racial, religious and political elements.  Covering a 100-year period (1819-1919), the project shows the ways that we are what we drink by examining the formation of civic identities of the cities themselves, Irish and German immigrants, and women in the public sphere and how the groups' involvement in the temperance movement helped to shape their categories of identity and establish a civic role: German immigrants continued to support public drinking to uphold their heritage; Irish immigrants joined religious forces to condemn drinking and to embed themselves in their new homeland; and women sought to protect the domestic sphere by moving their fight into the public sphere. Meanwhile, each Twin City had opposite stances on temperance with St. Paul being liquor friendly and Minneapolis being a hotbed for the liquor reform movement.

Meyer draws on a vast range of primary source materials including newspaper and court archival records and situates her own work within relevant scholarship on temperance, civic identity, Minnesota history, Irish and German American ethnic identity, and construction of female identity in the public sphere. In doing so, Meyer provides a thorough overview about how the role of drink and the attempt to regulate drink in connection with a social movement influenced local, ethnic, and gender identity construction.

This is one of the first books I acquired, and so I am especially pleased to see it out. If you think the cover is awesome, wait until you read what's on the inside!

#AAUP2015

The Association of American University Presses (AAUP) met in Denver, Colorado, June 18 to 21, 2015. I travel to several academic conferences each year for acquisitions purposes where organizations meet to network, exchange ideas, promote professional development, and to present ideas about their current findings; the AAUP meeting is not much different. At Denver #AAUP15, people in all aspects of university press (UP) publishing convened, from production and marketing, to journals and design, to business and acquisitions. Much like UPs attend scholarly conferences to exhibit books to their target audiences, vendors that provide services for publishers attend AAUP, exhibiting while AAUP members dipped in and out of panels and catch up with old friends.

The theme of this year's meeting was "Connect, Collaborate," and that is truly what attendees did. To give a sense, I connected with people from press departments at a similar stage in their career, acquisitions editors at all career levels, early career and first time AAUP members, and a cohort of people who are tapped into social networking and the ways we can harness the power of social media for scholarly publishing purposes across a spectrum. There were also some panels dedicated to exploring the possibility of the intersection of scholarly and social. A roundtable panel that I was a part of asked "Should Scholarly Be Social?" Our conclusion: yes. Yes, because our mission as university presses is to disseminate scholarship to the broadest possible audience, and a tweet, a blog post, and an Instagram are in service of this. Yes, because we have to look to our authors and scholars in the fields we publish and take cues from their practices (oh, and how marvelously you scholars are tweeting and engaging in various media). Yes, because we are at a disadvantage if we don't think openly about the newest technologies at our disposal. Another session at the conference, "Scholarship in 140 Characters? Using Social Media in Acquisitions," spoke about social media specifically from the acquisitions perspective. The conclusions here were the same: the opportunities that social networking creates for you to build relationships far outweighs any potential drawbacks to what you might not be able to predict someone might post/share/tweet.

While the conferences panels are structured and offer enriching insights, some of the most valuable opportunities at the meeting are the informal discussions that happen between panels, during breaks, or over drinks. I see this as crucially beneficial on two main fronts. The first is that these candid moments of telling personal stories can bring to light different processes among jobs or presses that can lead to more efficient operations, whether institutionally, departmentally, or individually. The second is that the connections we make within the organizations have potential to grow into friendships and exchanges that will help to shape the organization and the future of university press publishing. To have established relationships that facilitate open dialogue and multiple perspectives prevent the risk of one, monolithic idea of what UP publishing has to be, because this breeds mediocrity and stifles possibility. The collegiality, generosity, respect toward different practices, and general enthusiasm that pervaded the meeting certainly bodes well for an industry that is always being told it is in crisis.

Of course, this post only covers a smidgeon of what happened. No post could adequately itemize the diverse, dynamic, and multifaceted exchanges throughout keynotes, lunches, and panels. Fortunately, the association has some very dedicated Tweeters, so take a look through the #AAUP15 hashtag, whether you are in publishing and looking for more insight into UP publishing specifically, are a prospective author who wants more insight into the functioning of the UP world, or are someone at a UP who wasn't able to attend the conference this year. 

Reading in the Wild: Provo, Utah, and Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones

Work travel recently took me to Provo, Utah, in the gorgeous Utah Valley. As a Phoenix native, I feel most at home when I'm near mountains, and the snow-covered peaks of the Utah Valley mountains made quite the impression on me. Though it was my first time visiting Utah, I felt right at home.

Book Counter, Pioneer Book, Provo, UT

When I'm traveling for work, it might go without saying that I don't have much in the way of free time, but I got to sneak in a couple of quick treats during my time in Provo. My first night in town, an open schedule coupled with a late 9 pm sunset gave me the opportunity to explore the small, adorable downtown area. Filled with small restaurants and shops, I came across Pioneer Book, and never able to resist a bookstore (and a used one at that!), I went in to explore. I came to find that it was a newer establish, but I am not exaggerating when I say it was one of the most organized bookstores I've seen. I lost track of time browsing the fiction shelves, and before I knew it, the music volume turned up as a gentle reminder that the store was closing. I checked out with the exceptionally kind staff member who agreed to pay my loyalty card forward to the next local shopper,  and I left quite happy with my decision to get Elie Wiesel's Dawn (it is my name after all!) and Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones. 

When I settled in for the night in my spacious yet noisy Marriott Hotel room, unmotivated to continue with my current read, Continental Divide by Russell Banks, which I've been forcing myself to read because I'm not a quitter, I picked up The Lovely Bones. I picked it up and carried it right up a mountain with me.

Y Mountain is one peak in the Wasatch Mountain Range. Because of it's proximity to the Brigham Young University campus, the mountain became involved in some junior versus senior class prank over a hundred years ago. In the years since, it became tradition to maintain a Y on the mountain. This must have been no easy feat. Now at least there is a trail, but one that consists of 11 painful switchbacks, not to mention the elevation change. I felt like a champion when I reached the top of the Y, only to discover a trail that goes further, but after I realized that proper hiking boots rather than sneakers might fit the bill better, I turned around, followed the trail to the bottom of the Y, and parked myself there reading until the sun rose over the mountain.

Over the next few days, I read the book in every spare moment, and due to several hours of frustrating travel delays out of Salt Lake City, I finished The Lovely Bones before the plane even left the runway. The book is moving and suspenseful. About the tragic murder of a young girl in a small community, the book details the struggle of the victim looking down from heaven as her family mourns and wonders if her murderer will ever be discovered. I was left with the thought that we would all hope to be fortunate to have a family that passionately remembers and seeks justice for their lost loved one, but simultaneously melancholy at the family's reality that the death grew into an obsessive life of its own.

Sebold, Alice. The Lovely Bones. New York: Little, Brown, and Company, 2007.

The Time I Met The Subversive Copy Editor

I have a long relationship with style guides. For most of my academic career, I was loyal to MLA. We were close, and I loved the laissez-faire attitude it had—almost anything went in the relationship so long as you were consistent. But at a certain point, I just wanted more from a style guide. It wasn’t MLA; it was me. APA and I got to know each other well because of some freelance work, but we never got serious. I admire its brevity and attention to social scientific concerns, but we are just friends. CMOS, however, is the style guide love of my life. Its big, comprehensive index; its bright, colorful jacket; its sturdy, thick binding; its detail-oriented rules and abundant examples—what’s not to love about The Chicago Manual of Style? 

So, imagine my excitement when I got to meet the editor of the CMOS online Q & A forum, Carol Fisher Saller (@SubvCopyEd), who just happened to pay a visit to the University of Illinois Press last week, which just happens to be my place of employment. Carol Saller is a manuscript editor at the University of Chicago Press, and many know her as The Subversive Copy Editor. Her book by the same name is a delight to read, and the cover is pretty darn amazing, too.

 

She signed my book!

In all the excitement of meeting her, I apparently referred to University of Chicago Press as University Press of Chicago—how embarrassing! I had a zillion questions for her: As a manuscript editor, how was the process of having your own manuscript edited and put through production? Or was it perfect already? Do you have any other books in the works? What is the process of updating the new editions of the CMOS like? How do you come up with rule changes? Is it like 12 Angry Men with everyone seriously debating in a room? Do you have a running list between editions? What’s on the list right now? Will you sign my book? 

 I didn’t get to ask all my questions—I had to hold back on my crazy vibe—but that didn’t matter. Hearing her speak was wonderful. We even found out that she got her start as a freelancer in the Chicago office of our very press! She is a great storyteller, and she was a charming guest. She shared many stories of the various types of submission the Q&A receives, and she discussed the large, dedicated following of the style guide and the Q&A. One thing is certain: I’m not alone in my appreciation of CMOS.

Saller, Carol Fisher. The Subversive Copyeditor. Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2009.

Jamie Ford's Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

I came by this book in what just might be the best way possible: a UIP colleague with good taste in books recommended it, and it was free. I admit that when I first heard the title, I was skeptical. Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet sounded like it could easily be a romance novel or a Nicholas Sparks book—neither of which I am much interested in reading. However, the book got off to a good start based on its opening setting alone: Lake View Cemetery in Seattle. Now, normally this location would not necessary be appealing, but I had just coincidentally finished The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, which also takes place in Seattle and features Lake View Cemetery, so I found myself feeling like I was part of a meta literary situation. Could Henry Lee of Bitter and Sweet have crossed paths with Racing’s Denny as he walked his dog Enzo through the streets of Seattle and by the cemetery? How old would Denny have been during 1986 when Henry Lee was exploring his past? If we took the fictional cemetery plots in each story, would they be near each other? As these two literary worlds collided in my imagination, I found myself getting drawn into the two worlds of Henry Lee: his past and his present. 

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet is the story of a teenage Chinese boy, Henry, and his Japanese classmate Keiko as they experience Japanese internment. The fact that her and her family are tragically carted away by the government puts a damper on their blossoming romance, but the most interesting aspect of the book is Henry’s existence in three different racial climates and his position as an outsider in all of them. Henry and Keiko meet when they both receive scholarships to an otherwise all-White school. Their scholarship has them on lunch duty and cleaning after school, and their classmates make their lives difficult through their mocking and racism—even though Henry is Chinese, and Keiko identifies as American, the students call them both Japs and traitors. Henry is American-born to strict, traditional Chinese parents, and Henry struggles to belong among them due to his father’s racism and resistance again modernity. Henry’s friendship with Keiko and the fact that non-Asians do not distinguish him as Chinese allows him to navigate the Japanese neighborhood and witness firsthand as Japanese families hide or destroy their family heirlooms to avoid being accused of being traitors and are taken from their homes. The only situation in which Henry and Keiko share a sense of belonging is in their experience of the truly American tradition of jazz music.

Throughout the novel, the narrative switches between 1986 Henry and 1940s Henry. The narrative switches are quite an effective strategy that weave his past experiences with the modern reopening of a hotel where Japanese families hid their precious belongings before being interred. (The discovery of the items on the news was the event that inspired his reminiscences in the first place.) As Henry looks for traces of Keiko in the newly discovered stash, he finds himself opening up about his past to his son and resolving long-held issues of anger and guilt toward his father and the disappearance of Keiko. The personal relationships make this book endearing, and the historical aspects of the Japanese internment that are the basis for the story make the book a worthwhile read.

Ford, Jamie. Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet. New York: Ballantine Books, 2009.

Alphabet Soup: PD at TOC, AAUP, and SSP

The students of University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign have returned, and that can only mean one thing: summer has come to an end. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing if you look forward to winter (which I don’t) or if you had a bad summer (which I didn’t). I got to go home this summer to visit friends and family, got to go on a few trips, and got an iPhone, which may as well be surgically attached to my hand. In the midst of all that fun, I also had some great experiences that helped me to sink my teeth a little deeper into the world of scholarly publishing. When you move halfway across the country for a job and then that job provides you with wonderful professional development (PD) opportunities, that is a very good thing. In addition to the University of Illinois Press sending a number of people from our marketing and acquisitions department to Mini O’Reilly Tools of Change Chicago (TOC), many of us were also given the opportunity to attend the Association of American University Presses (AAUP), which, in case you don’t know, is like Mecca for university press folks.

As if those opportunities weren’t enough, I was also a recipient of an early-career professional travel grant from the Society of Scholarly Publishing (SSP). To understand the level of excitement that came with the news that I received the grant, you will also need to know that I had applied for an SSP annual meeting travel grant multiple times as a student. Finally, this summer, victory was mine! Attending the conference was a valuable experience: I was able to immerse myself in scholarly publishing dialogues that extended beyond university presses, I was a part of an incredible cohort of fellow grant recipients, and I was paired with a generous and kind mentor. The only thing we were asked for in return? We were asked to write a letter after the conference to discuss our experience and provide overall feedback. If you are curious to hear my expanded thoughts on the meeting, they are here for your reading pleasure.

I would like to start off by saying thank you to the Society for Scholarly Publishing for incorporating student and early career professional development grants into their yearly practice. The early career grant afforded me the opportunity to attend the conference, which I would have been unable to do otherwise, and I had a valuable, educational, and professionally fulfilling experience. I think the greatest benefit of the grant include the pairing with a mentor—my mentor, Alice Meadows, was very generous with her time and left such a positive impression that I would never hesitate to contact her in the future for mentoring and advice. The other great benefit of the grant is that the grant recipients functioned as a cohort throughout the meeting—this is an incredible bonus when you are attending a conference for the first time and you do not know anyone else. Dinner the first evening as a group was instrumental in forming ties, and it was wonderful to see familiar faces in the crowd as we attended meetings and events throughout the remainder of the meeting and discuss our thoughts and impressions of the sessions and our roles in publishing. I was even able to connect with one grant recipient and with the SSP President at AAUP in Chicago.

There were many ways in which my expectations of what I would learn at the SSP Annual Meeting differed from what I actually learned. In selecting the sessions to attend, it was obvious that the meeting was geared not only toward journals, but toward the sciences. I went into the meeting expecting to learn a great deal about journals; however, I was often surprised about how many of the topics discussed in relation to journals can be applied more broadly to scholarly publications overall—indeed, books can learn from the trials of journals in regard to open access, peer review, and using metrics. That being said, as a person who works in books in the humanities, I would have liked to see more panels on topics more related to my professional field. I was shocked to hear a gentleman in an elevator with an SSP name badge explain to a hotel guest that the meeting was about science journals—scholarly publishing is much broader than that! 

For me, a devoted reader of the Scholarly Kitchen blog, the absolute pinnacle of the meeting was meeting Kent Anderson. I got to shake the hand of the editor-in-chief of one of the best sources for scholarly news and discussion! Other highlights included the panels themselves. The session on libraries as publishers was interesting and made me think about how the University of Illinois Press can form a stronger relationship with the University of Illinois Library and perhaps utilize the strengths of the library in our projects, especially where ancillary content is involved. Perhaps the most exciting session was Publishers! What Are They Good For? This session made clear the conflict between the traditional ways of publishing and new theories and practices about activities like peer review. David Crotty of OUP and Jason Priem engaged in a lively debate about the interpretation and use of metrics in peer review. From this panel, I took away a sense that the future of publishing would never be traditional practices traded in for new technologies, but instead the future of publishing and peer review will pick methods that can enhance our foundational procedures and move them forward to be more efficient and useful to bettering scholarship. Another highlight was Making eBooks Easier. As a reader of electronic books, and as a person at a press who is moving into the ebook world, I thought this panel was fascinating, especially in how it drew attention to the benefits of having a universal but modular platform that would set standards and provide consistency for ebooks. 

As I returned to work after the meeting, I realized I was energized and full of ideas that I had been exposed to at the meeting. I was able to report to my department about the things I had learned, and although it has not led to the implementation of big ideas or changes (yet), I was able to take away from the meeting a more well-rounded view of how my sector within scholarly publishing can be more innovative, more adaptable, and to steal from the conference theme, be more social, mobile, agile, and global in how we approach some projects. In terms of professional development, I think one of the most important things I gained from the conference was the confidence to approach and engage in conversation with people in the publishing industry. As someone relatively new to the industry, this conference provided an ideal opportunity to mingle, network, connect, and trade stories about how other people do their jobs. 

So, what am I going to do next? I'm going to get back to reading some books!

From the Desert to the Prairie

Today, for the first time ever, I was unable to open the window of my car because it was frozen shut. There was too much ice, and the poor little motor in my window just couldn’t do it. Yes, folks, this is my first winter, and I don’t like it one bit. This whole season thing has taken me quite by surprise. To make it worse, it seems undeniable that this is one of the mildest winters in recent memory! What will I do when winter sets in for real?

Fall had its perks, but the short days, dreadful weather, and ice that stays in the shadows to surprise you when you slip on it are just are not fun! I hail from a place where there are two discernable seasons: hot and less hot, and right now is the wonderful, glorious, spectacular less-hot season in Phoenix—and Facebook posts keep reminding me that I am missing it. There are so many new things to deal with in this climate! The newish, often-challenging job at UIP is cake compared to the meteorological issues! Just off the top of my head, here is a list of things I’ve had to obtain since moving to Illinois that I’ve never had to own before, and most things on the list I never even realized other people had to buy.

Cuddl Duds

ear muffs

fur-lined boots

ice scraper

lawn waste bags

non-AZ driver’s license and plates

rake

snow shovel

yak traks

My feet haven’t even slipped into my comfy flip-flops in weeks, if not months, and it is such a strange adjustment! The cute, fashionable mittens that were always just right for riding my bike in the cool, December, Tempe air now don’t even cut it for a walk out to the car to scrape the ice of my windshield. I know I am lucky to be able to ease into winter with unseasonably reasonable weather this Champaign-Urbana winter, but, I must ask, when does winter end?

Week the First

Whenever I get a substantial amount of hair cut off, a strange sort of phantom hair syndrome happens for the next few days. I go to wash or brush my hair, and my hands and fingers and arms are used to a certain motion. After all, they have been brushing hair that has imperceptibly gotten longer for several months. I get ready to brush that same length of hair, but after the haircut, several inches are gone, and the brush slips into nothingness. For me, moving and starting a new job has been a little like that sensation: I try to do something, and I get started as I usually would, but then nothing is there. Instead of a direct relationship between needing yogurt and beer and going to Sunflower Market to get it, now when I need groceries, I have to do a Google search for a grocery store and write down directions. When asked to mail something at work, I go to do it, then realize I do not know where envelopes are. There is a disconnect between what I want to do, and the knowledge I have for doing it.

The offer for the Assistant Acquisitions Editor position at the University of Illinois Press came almost a year to the day I completed graduate school. The year in between was filled with an impossible work schedule with approximately three jobs at any given time, feelings of failure, and the adamant support of friends and family I have now left to come and pursue my publishing career. The Press is fantastic, but because I have never had a job I have so sincerely thought was a perfect fit for my skills and pursuits, it comes with a massive feeling of pressure. My first day was a total high: I met new people who were beyond welcoming and I was put to work. I could barely believe that on my first day I got to conduct research on peer reviewers, attend a meeting, do some filing-type tasks, and begin organizing my very own office. It was a pleasant surprise to feel utterly comfortable on the first day of a new job in a new environment. On my second and third days I was put to even more work and the first day high diminished. It is hard to feel successful or productive when every task takes several times longer than it should as I learn my way around a new building, new procedures, and a new copier (I swear, no two are ever the same). However, as I left messages with prospective peer reviewers, was shown how to prepare packets for the bi-weekly meetings, snatched my favorite pens from the supply area, sent rejection emails, and drafted descriptions for manuscripts, I knew I had found a place I will soon feel is my professional home.

After my first week, I woke up Saturday morning with a great deal of anxiety of all the things I could have done better over my first three days. I was worried I should know things already and not have to ask questions, and I had convinced myself I made a terrible blunder during a confused phone call. Then I walked to the Urbana farmer’s market, and I did it without getting lost. Image that! Last weekend I had never been to Urbana, and this weekend I navigated it. Contemplating that progress led me to this conclusion: I got embarrassingly lost my first few days in Urbana, and I will get lost and make mistakes at work. It may take time to navigate my new position at UIP, but it will happen eventually, and I reassure myself that, just as my hair always seems to grow back, surely but gradually, my confidence, efficiency, and knowledge in my work will grow as well.