Jenny Kim / Inside Higher Ed
What does it take to move an idea from a niche academic circle into a book that’s widely read? To find out, I spoke to three veteran university press editors: Dan Taber at Oxford University Press, Diana Gillooly at Princeton University Press and Andrew Kinney at UNC Press. We discussed book acquisition meetings, unconventional book launches and words in book proposals that make their hearts sink.
Q: Without complete sentences, describe what a typical in-house acquisition meeting feels like.
Taber: Collaborative, combative, considered.
Gillooly: Audience, audience, audience. Framing? Argument? Audience? Love it.
Kinney: Auditions, casting. Sharpening a pencil. Defining and refining. Cabinet of curiosities.
Q: Without naming specific books or authors, what makes you immediately want to acquire a manuscript?
Taber: I love to see a project that does not just present a problem but presents potential solutions—for example, a book about AI ethics that lays out concrete steps, or a climate book which proposes a change of approach to better tackle the issues. As a lifelong pessimist myself, I know it’s all too easy to study problems and stare into the abyss—but the study of problems should ideally lead the way to solutions, so I am always excited to work with an author who has a positive vision. I love a light at the end of the tunnel!
Gillooly: I’m always looking for a drive to connect and communicate with a clearly articulated set of readers. Book publishing is very different from journal publishing—more collaborative, more iterative, more flexible, but also demanding more thought about who’s going to choose to read the work. Books aren’t just longer than papers; they’re designed to form a connection between author and reader, and sometimes a community among readers. The best part of my job is helping authors tune their work and make it strong and appealing, but the effort can only succeed if their goal is to communicate.
Kinney: When it’s clear that an author can explain something that other authors haven’t. When the author has developed a voice that stands out among others; when there is something distinctive not only in what the author is saying, but in the way they say it. When the journey will be as valuable as the destination; when I know that experiencing the author’s mind at work through their writing will be as stimulating as its content.
Q: Without explaining your reasoning, what are some common phrases in book proposals that make your heart sink?
Taber: Calling anything “unprecedented.” Referring to work as “a paradigm shift.” A target readership of “anyone who reads books.”
Gillooly: “Appealing to a broad range of readers from the expert to the merely curious.” “Explanations that readers should want to know.” “I have included a list of readers whom I request that you avoid consulting.” (The last phrase isn’t common but, boy, it sinks my heart when it appears.)
Kinney: “Impactful.” “Neoliberal.” “General reader.” “I wrote this dissertation as a book.” “Importantly.”
Q: What are some of the more unusual, yet still effective, ways you’ve seen academic authors succeed in reaching broader audiences?
Taber: Some of my authors once planned to have a sushi chef perform at an academic conference stand to promote their book on multisensory experiences. Sadly, it was canceled due to the pandemic, so instead, they had the chef host their virtual book launch on YouTube, which attracted over 8,000 views!
Gillooly: I don’t know what’s unusual these days! I’ll duck this question by saying that academic authors have the great advantage that the continuity of their work offers a chance to build a platform for their ideas that benefits any book they publish. Be findable by curious, thoughtful people and offer something accessible about your work. There’s nothing wrong with a Web 1.0 style blog if that’s where you feel comfortable starting.
Kinney: There are so many incentives to play it safe that nearly anything a professor does that breaks with typical scholarly conventions will stand out. Authors who engage their passions—even if they seem atypical—can stand out. A neuroscientist who also works as a stage magician can help bring a new audience to a book about the limitations of human perception. Anything that develops a writer’s voice can help. It should be genuine, though. Insincere gimmickry nearly always fails.
Q: What writing advice do some authors claim to know but forget to follow?
Taber: Meeting your audience where they are. Mathematicians in particular are really keen to write books that make their discipline accessible to a broader audience. This is a noble goal—but the tricky bit is writing at a technical level that a novice can genuinely follow. Plenty of potential authors claim they know this—and yet they start chapters with “Let X be …”—something a nonmathematician would never, ever say!
Gillooly: Know who you’re writing for. This is hard for everyone. We have habits, things we’re itching to say. And it’s very easy to find a friend or colleague who will praise your favorite indulgence in a manuscript. Therefore, be ready to revise and revise again. On the small scale: Make every word count. Avoid the use of qualifiers.
Kinney: A few popular examples from Strunk and White: Use the active voice; omit needless words; avoid the use of qualifiers. More broadly: To write is to rewrite. Most scholars say that they are committed to untangling their sentences. But far too much academic writing never sees a second draft.
Q: If university presses did not exist, what would be lost?
Taber: My gainful employment! But more seriously—the unique thing about university presses is that we make our publishing decisions based on academic quality and impact, rather than purely on commercial metrics. We publish work that moves human knowledge forward, simply because that is our mission. I am proud to work for a place that publishes books based on the inherent worth of the material above all else. Without university presses, that kind of value-based publishing would disappear.
Gillooly: I spend a lot of time talking about what readers want or need, but books wouldn’t exist without authors. University presses invest a lot of attention and effort in developing academic authors and their manuscripts to amplify their voices as academics—to show the value of careful thought, deep thought, even sometimes slow thought. Knowledge isn’t a collection of facts or stories. It’s a growing body of human understanding, negotiation and, where possible, consensus, and it’s our purpose to share this with the world.
Kinney: Nearly every person who works at a university press does so because they truly love books; they think that ideas and writing matters; and they think that serving the needs of readers and writers is something that is worth doing, even if there isn’t much money to be made from it. University presses are where ideas are made and where they are road tested. There is hardly an area of human inquiry or innovation where university presses haven’t been intimately involved.
This piece was inspired by “Lit Hub Asks: 5 Authors, 7 Questions, No Wrong Answers.”
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