Friday, November 12, 2004

Chronicles from the Heart Abstracted

This morning I opened my work e-mail to a heart-wrenching message from an author who has been revising for us an article he submitted in July. We (the journal) generally like to receive revisions within 6 weeks. Some authors are quick about it; others take months and months until I wonder if they’ve just given up.

[Note: as opposed to poetry world, where you’re either accepted or just get a rejection note, for scientific journals, generally speaking, a paper submitted can be either accepted, sent back for revision once and maybe twice, or flat out rejected. Many are sent back for revision, and most of those are eventually accepted. Rarely and almost never is an article accepted at first sight.]

This doctor/author called me about a week ago. He’s British, so you know I enjoyed speaking with him. He was a very nice man who sounded "real", i.e. kind and polite but without stock formality. Because I remembered his name in association with the number of his manuscript, he was impressed with my memory. Gold coin. He told me he was in the process of moving and asked if we would accept his revised paper a couple weeks after the six-weeks mark, and asked how I would prefer to receive the figures that accompany the manuscript. I told him the delay would be fine. Frankly, it was rare to be contacted at all about delinquency. I usually don’t hear from the authors who take months and months, even after I send them "what’s going on" e-mails, so allowing two more weeks was nothing.

This morning in the message I received—I won’t share too much detail so not to breach the contract of common courtesy—he tells me he’s been working out of a different office in a different building and his file are packed away; further, he is essentially homeless and to top it off not very happy. He pleaded that I please bear with him and promised he would try to finish over the weekend. Shriveled cherry on the sundae, he addressed the whole message to Beth, which unfortunately is not my nickname. I didn't mention it in my reply. I'd hate to potentially contribute to cardiac arrest or worse.

I’ve been in that hectic domino scenario before, when everything collapses, and I’d like to send this man some cookies.

On another but related note, I think the above publication process is quite smart and productive: an author submits work, which is sent to reviewers who comment (usually pretty thoroughly); the author then revises according to the anonymous comments to make a more thorough and concise article on the study at hand and also for the larger scientific field, each author and reviewer contributing to the progress of each other and to progress of the larger field. Teamwork at its best. It’d be cool if when a poem of mine were rejected from a journal I received comments by which I might improve the poem. I won’t get in to the flaws in that idea; I’ve gone on long enough.

Music today:
Roy Orbison--the very best of (again, a comfort zone; despite what this lenghty might suggest I've been dreadfully busy at work)

Sons & Daughters--Love the Cup (again, more comfort zone; I do believe I'm going to have to buy me some
Arab Strap (take that as you will))

Modest Mouse--Building Nothing Out of Something (I thought this might last me 'til the end of the day. I need help. Somebody save the hand that moves the mouse! Help! I'm bleeding!)


The Zombies--Begin Here (this will save all of civilization, including the hand that moves the mouse; indeed it will trip triggers)


1 Comments:

Blogger Sara said...

That would make me very happy. We need to do this soon. I have blank CDs. Can't afford to buy CDs otherwise right now. You rock.

8:46 AM  

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