Lessons from producing an edited collection
Editing an academic book is an enormous undertaking – part creativity, part organisation, part slog, and part sheer willful determination. I have also found it to be one of the most rewarding academic writing projects you can tackle. Over the course of putting together Creating Justice: Human Rights and Art in Conversation with my brilliant co-editor, Eliza Garnsey, I learned a lot about collaboration, the importance of meticulous planning, and the joy of seeing a vision come to life. Here are six lessons I took away from working on this project – lessons that I hope might just help you put together your own edited volume.
1. Even though teamwork makes the dream work, it’s still work
Creating an edited collection is a collaborative effort in every sense. Working with Eliza was an absolute privilege because she brought so much insight, humour and creativity to the project. But even the best collaborations require effort. From the outset, we recognised the importance of open communication, playing to each other’s strengths, and staying aligned on our vision for the book as it shifted shape. Our WhatsApp messages pinged back and forth at quite a rate. Editing a collection isn’t just about the words and the chapters – it’s about managing relationships, too. You’re coordinating with contributors, liaising with publishers, and working to build something cohesive out of many different voices. Strong relationships make all the difference when it comes to navigating challenges and keeping the project on track. (It’s also an incredibly powerful accountability measure – unlike a sole-authored journal article coming back from review, once you have contributions from 27 people, it’s a bit tricky to just change your mind and put it in a drawer, never to be seen again.)
2. Have spreadsheets for everything. Everything.
Organisation is non-negotiable when editing an academic book, especially one with multiple writers. With so many contributors to manage, we knew from the start that things could go off the rails very quickly if we weren’t on top of it. If you only take away one thing from this post, it’s this: I promise you that you cannot keep track of all the moving parts of an edited collection without A System. Did so-and-so reply? Is it too soon to chase? Have I already done the edits on that chapter? Have you? We relied on detailed spreadsheets stored in a shared Dropbox folder to keep track of everything: contact details, dates we sent emails, draft deadlines, revisions, contributor bios, permissions, chapter titles, wordcounts. It wasn’t a fancy spreadsheet by any stretch, but it worked. Having a clear, centralised system means fewer frantic email searches and more time to focus on the creative aspects of the book. So, if you’re taking on a similar project, do yourself a big favour and invest some time really early on to build a robust tracking system (and then use it!).
3. Be bold with your pitch
When we first proposed Creating Justice, we knew it was unconventional but we were worried it might be just too unconventional for an academic publisher. A book exploring the intersection of human rights and art through conversations between scholars and practitioners? It felt ambitious – and maybe even a little niche. But we believed in the idea – and so, it turned out, did our editors at Rowman and Littlefield and the wonderfully supportive series editors. And so if I could go right back to the beginning and give Eliza and I some advice, it would be this: When pitching your own work, don’t be afraid to champion a bold or unconventional concept. Back yourself, and back your idea. Publishers appreciate originality, especially if you can articulate why your project matters and who it’s for. A strong proposal, written with clarity and confidence, is your best chance of bringing your vision to life. (Also, shameless self-promotion here: I can help you write your book proposal! It’s so satisfying seeing all the bits come together into a cohesive project – like a puzzle, or a little business plan for sending your book out into the world. Please let me experience that satisfaction vicariously through your project. It’s win-win: you get an academic book proposal expert on your team, I get to sigh happy little sighs when the last piece falls into place. Okay, self-promotion over. Thank you thank you.)
4. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts
One of the most exciting parts of creating this collection has been watching it grow into something bigger than Eliza and I could ever have imagined. Each chapter in Creating Justice added a unique perspective, and we knew this early on when we were doing the early read-throughs and edits of the chapters. But it wasn’t until we got the proofs back, really, that we could see how the chapters – read together, one after the other – created this rich, interconnected conversation about human rights and art. And it’s in this synergy that the real magic of edited collections lies – they’re not just books; they’re these dynamic dialogues between the contributors and across the contributions. Seeing the individual parts come together was such a reminder of the power of collaboration and shared purpose. It’s so incredibly rewarding to know you’ve helped create something that amplifies voices and sparks new ideas. Highly recommend.
5. Expect (nay, plan for) the unexpected
No matter how organised you are, editing an academic book comes with surprises. Contributors might need extensions, permissions can be unexpectedly complex, and your own ideas will inevitably evolve as the project unfolds. We faced a whole host of challenges with Creating Justice. In the course of putting it together, I started my postdoc, had the funding for my postdoc pulled, had a baby, left academia, set up two businesses (head on over to the sister business to Hamilton Editorial, Hamilton Compass, for all your coaching needs!), and retrained as a career coach. Eliza went through just as complex a personal and professional five years, as did all of our contributors. None of us had a global pandemic on our bingo cards either, but there you go. Knowing that the unexpected was going to happen didn’t eliminate any of the challenges, but it did let us be a bit more gentle with ourselves when everything turned into a bit of a crapshoot.
6. It’s not really about the book – it’s about the relationships
At its heart, creating an edited collection is about building connections. Every step of Creating Justice – from brainstorming with Eliza to working with our contributors – reminded me that the process is as valuable as the finished product. The relationships you build while editing a book often outlast the publication itself. Contributors become collaborators, and your shared work fosters a sense of community. That’s one of the most rewarding parts of editing an academic collection: it’s not just about producing a book; it’s about creating a platform for conversations that matter (and then finding ways to keep those conversations going).
Final thoughts
Editing an academic book like Creating Justice is no small task, but it’s one of the most fulfilling projects I’ve ever undertaken. Yes, it requires meticulous planning and a healthy dose of patience, and it’s not a research activity that is particularly (at all) rewarded in the academy. (We’ve all heard the advice about it being wiser to spend the time writing a monograph or a journal article or two instead of doing an edited collection.) But it gives you the chance to bring together people whose work excites and inspires you, and to partner with incredible like-minded colleagues and friends. That’s why, if you’re considering creating an edited collection, I’d wholeheartedly say go for it – while it’s hard work, it is absolutely worth it.