Dr Karen McAulay explores the history of Scottish music collecting, publishing and national identity from the 18th to 20th centuries. Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, author of two Routledge monographs.
Right, my two proofs (an article and a contributed chapter), and the final version of another article, have all been returned to their editors. It has actually been quite interesting revisiting recent and not so recent research, after some time away from it. Such revisitations help consolidate things in one’s mind, and keep the topics alive and vivid.
The Big Idea
Tomorrow, by contrast, is a day for looking ahead: I need to start a book proposal and apply for some funding. Storm Amy will determine which desk, on which side of the country, I might be using. Waterproofs at the ready, but I don’t think I’ll take an umbrella! Scottish wind can invert the hardiest of specimens.
Since Friday, I’ve been sent three exciting emails:-
the proofs of one chunky article that’s due to be published next year;
the proofs of a contributed chapter with probably a similar timescale,
and another even chunkier article that has now been accepted – but needs a couple of final touches before I send it back to the editor.
Not bad, in two working days with a weekend in between!
It’s just the way things turn out, but the first article is a late-in-the day return to a paper that I originally gave in 2019 – I waited to be sure that the original conference organisers wouldn’t be needing it. Not only that, but the paper itself had been a return to, and development of, a topic I researched for my PhD and subsequent first monograph, so it has been a long time brewing! I first ‘encountered’ the ghost of Sir John MacGregor Murray some twenty years ago, and a fascinating ghost he turned out to be. He deserves his article in Folk Music Journal next year. Proofs checked and returned already.
Collection aimed at …Visitors …To Britain …
Meanwhile, the book chapter expands on work that I did for my own recent second monograph, A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity, focusing on a song collection published in time for the Festival of Britain. And the other article picks up on very different threads from that monograph, but also represents a considerable amount of detailed research since then. I look forward to checking the chapter and dealing with the article.
I do have another article due to be published later this year, too. More of that anon.
When you consider that I’m just beginning to think about a third monograph, it’s all a bit dizzying. Mind you, that won’t be happening immediately. I’m still exploring ideas. (Would it be disloyal to say that this is all so much more fun than cataloguing jazz CDs in my earlier existence …?)
Today, after submitting an article to a journal, I suddenly realised that I hadn’t added to my ‘activity log’ for a while. It has been a sombre summer; I went down south twice; did nothing scholarly at all for some five weeks of the summer; and promptly went down with some virus or other when I got back to Glasgow for the second time – so it’s hardly surprising if I took my eye off the ball. Nonetheless, I decided there was no harm in looking out the activity log and updating it. I got quite a surprise. The two rejections earlier this year, coming close after one another, had hurt. I feel a bit sore about the piece I had genuinely thought was accepted one or two years ago, but more recently turned out to be very much not so; and even more sore about the piece that was requested and then kindly but firmly declined. I felt misunderstood!
But it appears that this scholarly year hasn’t been as bad as I thought, notwithstanding those two knocks. I’ve had an article published; and I’ve given a conference paper and two talks. To any ambitious American academic, this probably seems like pathetically small beer, but I’m a British musicologist, I’m 67, and I’m not trying to secure tenure in terms of a full-time academic contract, so it’s all okay. (I could get a dozen articles published in a year, and it would make no difference to my age or status.)
I have a book chapter and a couple more articles accepted and pending publication. Another article accepted subject to revisions, which I’ve submitted – fingers crossed this time! And today’s article just submitted. That doesn’t seem too bad to me. I now have a couple of half-promised articles which I really ought to get on with; another idea for a collaborative article; and the conundrum of a possible third book. (I’m nowhere near writing this illusive thing, but I do have angles to explore, before I can formulate a precise way forward.)
But what I do know, is that the more irons I have in the fire (yes, more cliches – sorry!), the less I mind about the rejections. Maybe I just directed them to a subject area more dissimilar to my own than I realised, so didn’t hit the targets that were expected? In any case, having other things submitted and under consideration at least offers the hope that next time I might be successful.
More irons in the fire …
I wonder what my activity log will look like by the end of the year?!
I wrote an article. Revised it. Revised the revisions. I have no problem with this – it’s all intended to make it a better article, and hopefully it is now better. However, I feel less positive about the mechanics of submitting it! You have to use a platform called Manuscript Central. Manuscript Central is a product of the ScholarOne platform. (It was owned by Thomson Reuters, then Clarivate and is now owned by Silverchair. Still with me?) I Googled it, and one journal publisher described it as user-friendly.
I’ve used it before. Indeed, I’ve uploaded revisions before. But today, I couldn’t work out how to do all my re-revisions within the platform. After much huffing and puffing, I did submit a manuscript. I’m less confident as to whether I submitted it correctly! And I dislike feeling thwarted by technology. It doesn’t encourage me!
Confused – but no hair was torn out!
On the positive side – I normally have the greatest difficulty stopping research activity when I stop being a part-time researcher for the day, but today I was more than happy to close the document. Gently, if metaphorically shutting the door behind me!
On Thursday, I’ll turn to the next article for submission. Hmm, which platform for this one …?
Some years ago, I wrote an article about bibliography and paratext – for a librarianship journal, The Library Review. Taking a marketing term, I discussed ways of trying to make bibliographic citation more ‘sexy’, ie, appealing to students.
Oh, how I regretted that article title. Too late, I feared no-one would take it seriously. All the advice says that an article title should say what it means, directly.
After all, if we’re going to be very ‘meta’ about it, what attracted you to this blog post? I said it was about article titles, and here I am, writing about them. It does what it says on the can, to use a colloquial expression. If you were looking for advice about entitling your article, you might conceivably have thought you’d arrived at the right place.
So, why hadn’t I just entitled that earlier article,
‘Getting undergraduates interested in library-based teaching: bibliographic citation and historical paratext’
But I didn’t. Library Review Vol. 64 Iss 1/2 pp. 154 – 161 is there for all to see, with that cringeworthy article title:-
‘Sexy’ bibliography (and revealing paratext)
I learned my lesson. Titles have to be plain and meaningful, so that everyone knows exactly what they’re about. No messing. Otherwise, the danger is that people looking for conventionally sexy and revealing material might stumble across my pedagogical peregrinations and feel cheated. Whilst pedagogues might not even find my article. (Which would be a shame.)
Today, however, my line manager was digging about in Pure, our institutional repository. And – well, I’m a bit stunned to find that my poor little article got far and away the most views. Over 8,700 views, to be precise!
If you’re interested in pedagogy, and specifically, in librarians teaching, then I commend it to you. It’s not a bad article. You can access it here.
However, if you’re expecting a sultry-looking librarian in an off-the shoulder chiffon number, then I’m afraid you are going to be bitterly, bitterly disappointed! I reveal only my experimentation in making bibliographic citation and historical paratext interesting to music undergraduates!
If I remember one comment from my doctoral viva, it was an observation about my writing.
You really bring the characters to life.
And I smiled inwardly, because for several years prior to that, I had published short stories and even a serial in a women’s magazine. I can write about people.
When it comes to research, though, the real people get so under my skin that I feel I almost know them personally. Yesterday, I found a few letters where an assistant editor was trying to hurry things along before she left for a new job. She explained this to her authors. Unusually, their replies were also there, so I looked eagerly for their well-wishing messages, or a word of thanks for her efforts – which had been considerable.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I felt indignant on her behalf, but it was the 1950s. Maybe gentlemen didn’t thank lady assistant editors in those days? I like to think there might have been a tea-party in the office, at least. I know for a fact that the ladies’ tea-breaks were affectionately referred to as ‘the tea-party’, so hopefully someone baked a cake or some scones for her last day!
Maybe?
It is sometimes, however, possible to read too much into a situation. I was surprised to catch an author suddenly writing ‘Dear Madam’ and ‘Yours faithfully’ to someone he’d been writing to for months. And yes, the recipient accordingly responded, ‘Dear Sir’. I think it was a momentary blip. Maybe Sir’s secretary didn’t remember the recipient’s name. Anyway, friendly terms resumed after that, so all was well!
My new schedule entails thinking about an Edinburgh publisher whilst I’m in Edinburgh, and writing about various other aspects of my research on my Glasgow days.
I have an article I’m actively gearing up to write; another requiring tweaking; a couple more requested; and lastly, a new avenue for which I’ve identified a journal, but not yet completed the research. Quite a bit of writing!
But first, in the first article, we have the soprano and her repertoire. And her ‘go-to’ encore. And if you thought I got excited about magic lanterns – new technology for late Victorians – well, you can imagine my excitement at the thought that I may need to watch a silent film soon.
Why? A musicologist watching something in silence? What does silence have to do with music (apart from John Cage’s 4’33”, of course)?
You see, I think this film may have influenced her choice of encore. So, firstly, I’m awaiting an eBay copy of the novel on which the movie was based. And then, I’m waiting to find out if I can watch the movie without leaving Scotland.
She wasn’t a film actress herself, so my whole quest is a bit tangential – I’m not thinking about nipping down to London unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. But I could …
Meanwhile, I reflect that watching silent moving pictures must have been enormously exciting if you had grown up with the occasional magic lantern show. And when, in due course, talkies came in … it’s hard to imagine how amazing that must have been. Small wonder that printed music took a bit of a nosedive in the late 1920s – the options for entertainment outside the house were expanding all the time.
I’m eagerly awaiting news of my chances to watch this intriguing spectacle!
So, the book was published. What next, you ask? Well, I’ve recently submitted a couple of articles, one about some women related to Scottish music publishers, and one about an 18th-19th century supporter of Highland culture. I’m patiently waiting to hear if either article finds a home – and impatiently waiting to see if the book gets decent reviews! I see a couple of libraries have already got it in stock, which is comforting.
Now, I have an article to write (about two famous Scottish singers) and then in January I’m off on a postdoctoral research fellowship at the University of Edinburgh. These are exciting times!
Twirling like a Top?
However, first it’s time for the crescendo of Christmas to reach its peak, and then a few days of diminuendo and rallentando to a graceful pause. I generally find that after I’ve recovered from organising the family festivities, I’m raring to get going on some writing, so hopefully I’ll get that article at least drafted before I embark on the Edinburgh adventure.
Meanwhile, I hope everyone gets just the right balance of rest, relaxation and fun. If it’s a quiet or subdued time for you, then I hope that you’ll find solace in the small things, and the comfort and companionship of friends.
I’ve been working on a very long article, for quite a few weeks. Finally, today, I reached the point where I’d compared my manuscript with the style guide, and worked out how to actually submit the piece. What with Web of Science and ORCID numbers, before I could even start completing the submission form, it was quite an undertaking. But – it’s done! Hooray!
And what popped into my mind, but the most unusual gift anyone has ever given me. When I was about eight years old, my paternal grandmother proudly presented me with …
… a mangle! (Was I meant to mangle my smalls, or my dolls’ clothes? Who knows.)
Anyway, I feel somewhat mangled after the effort of getting that manuscript ‘into the system’, so now I shall go and put the kettle on for yet more tea, before I tidy my desk and start thinking about the next idea for an article! The peer review process still fills me with apprehension – no-one likes the thought that someone else might demolish your efforts with a few well-chosen epithets – but I’ve done my best, so now I just have to wait and see!
This morning, I was talking to students about devising a structure for a research project – and scheduling the writing of it. Oh, I waxed lyrical. I explained how I scheduled my PhD chapters, and more recently, I scheduled my second book chapters, editing, indexing and so on. All perfectly true. It’s how I meet deadlines, ensuring I don’t overlook anything crucial. For me, this works; I do accept that not everyone likes to organise themselves this way, though.
But things have been a bit disarranged this autumn – I’ve actually been robbing myself of free time in my enthusiasm to do the scholarly things that I never felt I had enough time for before! This autumn, I had the book launch to look forward to, as well as some teaching (an unexpected bonus), and the writing of a substantial article. I had a couple of other writing ideas lined up for after I’d finished the aforementioned article, and I have been eagerly looking forward to my fellowship in Edinburgh next year – I don’t want to get started on that particular project until I have a desk in Edinburgh.
However, I’m just at the end of the substantial article, and now I need to check it meets the house style of the journal I’m hoping to submit it to. The other writing ideas? I think they’re likely to spill over into my RCS research existence in the days when I’m not in Edinburgh next year! (For a start, I haven’t delved quite deep enough to have a clear grasp of certain nuances.)
How did December creep up on me so sneakily?! Suddenly, semi-retired or not, I find I have the usual scramble to plan Christmas music, Christmas presents and all the usual seasonal silliness. If anyone sees a little semi-retirement just roaming around looking displaced, please turn it round gently and send it back to me. I’ll have to continue working on my time management skills – I think I’m guilty of allowing part-time commitments to overflow into time that isn’t actually meant to be work!
My new year’s resolution? Still to achieve work-life balance!
Karen McAulay, Musicologist 