Raphael Susewind

Finally, I received my author copies, an actual book, with my text in it and my name on top. Happiness! But: a book is only good when it is being read, and to find readers (as well as catalysts such as reviewers), one needs to engage in some marketing. Which can feel a bit awkward - academe rests on and yet despises selling oneself and one's intellectual produce. So I used the adrenalin and joy of the moment to write this series. And thought about what else to do.

Congratulations! After weeks of waiting (two for this post, but probably many more for the readers' comments on your manuscript) a press offered to publish your book. You must be delighted. I for sure was.

And then I was frightened. Once the offer from SAGE was in, it dawned upon me that I would now increasingly loose control. Until now, it was only me who read the text, some supervisors, some friends, the publisher, and his external reviewers. But whatever they read was a draft. So far, I managed to deceive myself into believing that all could still change. This time was over now. Now was time to let go - and quickly so...

Many authors, especially young ones like me, seem to be afraid of the peer review process. To be honest: I wasn't. Once SAGE decided to read the full manuscript for my book on Muslim peace activists, I knew that acceptance creep would set it. They were ready to invest effort, some money, and their network to check my book - and would not have done this if they had not seen potential in my proposal. Moreover: whatever the readers had to say would likely improve my work even in the unlikely event of not leading to a contract. Your book's first honest readers are its reviewers. I knew the road ahead was still long - the marketing department would have to go over everything, for instance, before I were to be offered an actual contract - but I was in.

When I began to blog regularly a year ago with a post on academic writing, I wasn't quite sure about this experiment: will anybody read what I have to say? Will I have enough to say? And the less obvious nags: how will it feel to be a public frog, and will people accuse me of shameless self-promotion?

An anniversary is a good time to reflect. Nobody has accused me of shamelessness so far, and being a frog feels nice enough (though I would prefer to think of myself as a buffalo, or indeed as one of those most anthropological goats). More importantly, and more surprisingly, I also had indeed something to say every week - and found readers for it! Around 15 readers on an average day, to be precise, mostly from India, the US and the UK (and more, sometimes considerably more, on Mondays, when I put a new piece online). According to my stats, these readers - you - found the following posts most interesting:

Questions for better research (impressive, given that it's fairly recent)
Muslim belonging in Lucknow (kind of expected)
How to get an Indian research visa (a true surprise, see below)
Academic writing (which is also the oldest post, and still one of the best)

I always wanted to blog about academic attire - every time I returned from a sartorially desastrous conference (frequently), every time I saw a colleague who knows how to dress without being arrogant (once in a while), every time I received comments on my own attire - appreciative (occasionally) or otherwise (rarely). A recent post on the Thesis Whisperer, and the ensuing discussion on #phdchat gave me the last necessary kick to finally write down my two cents. While doing so, I again realized that most commentary and advice out there is for women - arguably because female academics tend to be under much more scrutiny in these matters. For men, I only came across a classic rant at Inside Higher Ed - and a piece in the Chronicle which asks all the right questions - about geography, discipline, campus and role - but provides no answers.

Without claiming exemplarity, I thus decided to flung open my wardrobe and assemble all those things I wore during the last couple of months in official academic contexts (except fieldwork - where I tend to wear a simple trouser-shirt-combo - but the same rules apply there, too). The collection is pictured to the right - and I will go through three classic occasions to explain what I wear, and more importantly my reasoning behind it. These occasions are teaching in the classroom, presenting and networking at a conference, and making the best out of professional meetings.