REVISING AN ARTICLE FOR PUBLICTION:

AN EXAMPLE OF ONE DUDE'S ATTEMPT TO GET PUBLISHED

 

This web page continues to chronicle my attempt to publish an essay titled "Hystericizing Huey." On the previous web page I detailed the long and tortuous evolution of the essay from a conference paper to an article submitted for publication (and rejected, and rejected, and rejected again). My intention with these web pages is to encourage beginning scholars: take heart! rejection is to be expected, even with work that is good. As the previous page demonstrates, often ideological or political reasons motivate rejections. Sometimes, your article may simply not be up to snuff (and I have a whole file of failed articles that I have simply "retired"). Nevertheless, one must have some faith that their stuff is snuff-enough to succeed at publishing. Press on!

 

To pick up where I left off: the "Hystericizing Huey" essay was submitted to the Western Journal of Communication, and after many, many, many (many, many) weeks, I have finally received a letter from the editor that contains some very special, magic words:

 

"I invite you to revise and resubmit."

 

Some beginning scholars mistakenly read this phrase, "your stuff is not good enough," when it actually should be read, "for reviewer so-and-so, your stuff is not good enough, but if you please that reviewer, then I'll be inclined to publish it." I have heard first hand from at least three editors that they are always surprised by the number of authors who do not decide to "revise and resubmit" after such an invitation . Usually, and editor will never ever ever tell you to resubmit something if she doesn't think it's likely to be published. Rather, most editors think of the "R&R" decree as an if/then statement: "if you do X, then I'll give you the cherished Y." Here is a copy of the editor's letter in pdf format that models the if/then form.

So, I have an invitation to revise and resubmit. How do I proceed? Well, the first thing to do is to get a sense of what the editor wants. Ultimately, the editor has the power to even override the rejections of reviewers (this is rare, but I do know of one editor who published an article even when the reviewers recommended rejection). Notice the structure of the editor's letter: (1) she announces she finally has the reviews, and details why there was a delay; (2) she issues her judgment about what to do, sort of like a thesis statement; (3) she paraphrases what the reviewers say, and then offers her own assessment; and (4) she says explicitly what I should do. Note that she says, "at this time there is no guarantee that the essay will be accepted for publication, because the changes are so extensive. However, I have high hopes for this." These are important sentences, because while the first, "if" part indicates she makes no promises, the second, "then" part indicates a desire to see it in print. In other words, the editor is saying she likes the piece.

What, then, are the extensive changes that the editor requires? Basically, they reduce to making reviewer Z happy. "After my own reading of the piece," says the editor, "I came to the conclusion that revising for reviewer Z will take care of the most salient issue reviewer X has with the piece." In other words, "don't worry too much about what X says," hints the editor, "focus on what Z says." The editor then extracts what she sees as the most important thing that reviewer Z says: by framing the essay as an attempt to outline a "psychoanalytic rhetorical criticism," it does not sufficiently focus on the case study used to that end. Rather than pursue the larger task, both the editor and reviewer Z urge the smaller case study as a focus: abandon defending psychoanalysis, and "just do it." In other words, "show, don't tell." Curiously, this is a return to the original intent of the essay, how it started out in the first version!

So by studying the editor's cover letter of the reviews, we know that making reviewer Z happy is the ultimate goal. We can think of reviewer Z as a sentry: she holds the keys to the kingdom of publication, and making sure to incorporate her advice--as opposed to being defensive--is the best strategy get through the gates. It kind of reminds me of The Simpsons episode when Mr. Burns gives Homer the keys to the executive restroom: this an initiatory rite for the right to sit on the pot of psychobabble. This means that I need to understand, as best as I can, reviewer Z's understanding of Lacanian psychoanalysis. Like Homer, I will have to hold-in my understanding or particular "reading" of Lacan until reviewer Z is satisfied her understanding is taken into account.

When I get to this point in the publication process, I draft my response to the editor. Doing this gives me time to think through what the reviewers said and paraphrase their suggestions and objections in my own language.Here is a draft of that cover letter. You'll note I detail the reviewer's remarks and enumerate them. You'll also note that I already know how to answer and/or respond to some of the objections, while I'm not quite sure about others. I'll end up revising this cover letter many, many times--as I revise the manuscript itself. Let me stress the importance of this "practice" or "draft" cover letter for revision: in the cover letter, you are saying "here's how I responded to what the reviewers had to say." Often, the editor will send this cover letter back to the reviewers. Consequently, it's an opportunity to reargue your case, or to provide additional argument that you don't have space enough to put in the article itself. Believe me, as a reviewer, I'm always positively predisposed to accept a revised article when the author says something to the effect of, "reviewer D(Jx3) suggestion that I read X and Y was very helpful, and I incorporated that material on pp. x-xx."

Now, although it is true that I should focus on reviewer Z's suggestions, this does not mean I should blow off reviewer X. The editor notes that reviewer X will receive the revision for re-review. Here are reviewer X's remarks. How do we explain her objections? Well, unfortunately, her call for rejection is based on a disposition against any method of criticism that applies pre-conceived concepts (in whatever shape they take). This rules out, for example, Marxism and "p-word" type theories (e.g., poststructuralism) . . . in fact, it outlaws pretty much everything the reviewer doesn't like (whatever that may be). In rhetorical studies, there is a practice called "close textual reading," a habit that can be traced to New Criticism (and by extension, German Romanticism), that many presume to center the practice of criticism. Close reading in our field--influenced very much by phenomenology--tends to demand that one approach a text without preconceptions to see what it in-itself recommends (e.g., the epoche). This reviewer objects to psychoanalysis in general because it does not approach the text as one would, say, a first reading of a holy book or, perhaps, a patient coming to analysis for the first time. Rather, this reviewer says that I am finding what I want to find; that is, I have this structure of neurosis that I'm looking to find in Huey's discourse, and so it's no surprise that I find it. Now, I happen to think the ideology of the text as a virgin (or as Laura Sells and I have termed elsewhere "Edenic") or as a "miraculated object," to borrow Laura's dissertation terminology, is an even more deceptive and dubious practice than the application of universals. Heck, a whole chapter of my dissertation is about the Romantic ideology behind this approach to texts (as, ultimately, an occult practice). But there's not space enough to detail that in the cover letter (or the can of worms it opens about method). In short: this author is not rejecting the article "on its own terms," but in terms of something she is bringing to the essay--a methodological bias. Consequently, there is little to no chance that I can convince her to accept this essay for publication. The editor disagrees, thinking that if I fix some things in respect to reviewer Z, then X will be satisfied. I do not think this is likely. So the best thing to do is hope that maybe this reviewer will "let it go," but to attempt to convince her psychoanalysis is a legitimate method is really a lost cause. Reviewer X is a never going to buy this essay; but I should still respect her opinion and say so.

So we are now down to reviewer Z's comments. This reviewer knows who I am (it is obvious), and so admirably discloses her identity as well. There are still very few people in the field who are into or familiar with psychoanalysis (and most of us are friends!). This means that for much of my work "in the field," my blind reviewers are going to figure out who I am--blind review, in other words, is tough. Now, this reviewer is one of the few people in the field who have actually published on psychoanalysis and her work, in general, is widely respected. For these reasons, the editor is probably putting a lot of faith in her judgment.Here are reviewer Z's comments. You can see my cover letter for a more detailed paraphrasing of her suggestions. What does reviewer Z want? I think it reduces to three things: (1) a reframing of the essay and a focus on demagoguery; (2) a better, more focused discussion of the relation between emotional appeals, desire, need, demand, and enjoyment; and (3) some acknowledgement of the feminist critique of Lacan, which I ignore.

Now, because I personally tend to think of all of my work as "in process" and usually half-baked (that is, as shit), I don't have a problem going down the road specified by reviewer Z. Some authors may get defensive or upset, but this response stems from some conviction in mastery or perfection that, well, is silly. I don't know everything, right? Nope. So this reviewer has something to teach me. What is that? Her understanding of Lacan. So how do I better understand her understanding of Lacan? Well, she tells me: it can be found in Joan Copjec's Read My Desire, as well as some of the work of the late James McDaniel. Her favored reading of Lacan is also informed by Judith Butler's Bodies that Matter, and by extension, the work of Irigaray (e.g., Speculum of the Other Woman) and other "feminist psychoanalytic" approaches. Copjec, Irigaray, Butler . . . these theorists are all reading Lacan from a feminist vantage. We can begin to discern, then, the inflection of the reviewer's reading: I am ignoring feminism, and politically, that is naughty. She notes I do not have to agree with any feminist readings, but rather, I should at least acknowledge them. In other words, this reviewer is calling me on the carpet for the politics of my use of theory: by failing to acknowledge or incorporate the feminist critiques and inflection of Lacanian approaches, I am promoting a more or less "phallogocentric" reading. In short, this reviewer would prefer to see a more feminized reading of Lacan in my essay, but she does not require that. She does require that I at least note the reading exists.

Is this doable? Yes. Is this a "major revision?" Well, not really, IMHO. This is roughly a three-day job of reframing, rewriting, and rethinking. [LATER EDIT: I was wrong; this was not a quick revision.] If you read the previous pages, you'll recall that originally this essay was framed exactly as reviewer Z and the editor recommended: a contribution to understanding demagoguery. So my plan is to restore the original introduction and conclusion and take out some of the material on desire, demand and need. The reviewer also wants me to incorporate the work of Joan Copjec, which I have a copy of already but, sadly, have not read closely. As with any article revision, I have a "to do" list. The list at this point is as follows:

 

1. Reread the essay again, and then, an older version. Change out and refigure the introduction to better reflect a focus on demagoguery, charisma, and the emotional appeal.

2. Re-read Copjec (it's actually sitting in front of me, and I re-read two chapters today). Attempt to discern how Copjec's understanding of desire figures what I have in my essay and cite her. Re-write the whole section on need, desire, demand, and possibly add something about jouissance (painful pleasure).

3. Read and incorporate newer literature on demagoguery. I know of one essay that has come out in Rhetoric and Public affairs that is about demagoguery. That will be important to incorporate in the new version.

4. Cut the discussion of the phallus altogether and sink into the footnotes.

5. Re-write the "evidence" section, possibly adding something more from Long's speech craft; if I can find some sort of video document to read wherein the audience is frequently shown to respond in some "hysterical" way, all the better.

6. Re-write conclusion.

March 23 Update: I have completed the revisions today. I regret that revisions DID take much longer than I anticipated (almost two weeks of work), however, I do think the essay is much stronger and much more coherent. To see a chronicle of the changes that I made, you can read the completed resubmission letter. To see the revised essay, you can click this link. Comparing the revised essay with it's previous incarnation (in light of the revision suggestions) may prove helpful to some.

 

PENULTIMATE UPDATE: ACCEPTED! May 29, 2006.

Hurrah! "Hystericizing Huey" has been accepted for publication, pending minor revisions, by the editor of the Western Journal of Communication. Here are the finalized documents (all as PDF files) for your perusal:

Ok, at this stage I have made all the revisions suggested by the reviewer who knows me and have sent the essay back. The less enthused reviewer probably suggested "rejection," though it is unclear, but the editor seems happy enough to depend on her own and the familiar reviewer's judgment (in my book, the signature of a strong editor is a willingness to "make the call"). What now? Well, the next time I go to school I will mail a CD-R with the paper on it. What will happen now is this: (a) the editor will try to determine which issue the essay should go in; I predict next year's volume at the earliest, unless she is hurting for material (I doubt that). Then, she or an assistant will run the paper through a formatting program, and then they'll send it off to the publisher. The publisher will typeset everything, and then, a month or two before it will run to print, they will send a PDF "proof" file via email. It will be my responsibility to proofread the proof, and then send back any suggested corrections. When we get to that stage, I'll post the proof and other stuff that one does at that stage as the "final update."

Anyway, the moral to the story is: keep trying, don't give up, and so on.

 

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