the big tease

https://trumpeter.athabascau.ca/index.php/trumpet

 

January 2024 UPDATE: THE TEASE GOES ON AND ON...

A lesson in the realities of writing and publishing: Things are either rushed to the point of incoherence, or maddingly slow. Why do I say this? Because after waiting months for this essay to appear, including blogging about it here and putting it on my c.v. as "forthcoming," it was nowhere to be found in the most recent issue (#39) of The Trumpeter. This was puzzling -- to say the least -- after cycles of revisions, copy editing, and back-and-forth with the editor to meet deadline. When I asked what happened, the editor penned a profuse apology, explaining that the recent passing away of the journal's founding editor (RIP) mandated the hurried compilation of a memorial festschrift issue, which pushed my essay into the next issue. And in the rush he'd forgotten to inform me of the change. 

Aargh. 

Luckily, it's not that big a deal. This late in the game there's no point in pulling my essay to submit to another journal. I'm not up for tenure, promotion, or some big grant (at least that I'm aware of), so the delay won't harm me professionally. But The Trumpeter publishes only one issue per year. So, unless something changes, we'll have to wait till the end of 2024 to see this essay appear in print.

I hope.

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I'm excited about an essay I have coming out later this year in The Trumpeter: Journal of Ecosophy. The Trumpeter is a Canadian journal run through Athabasca University, and "ecosophy" is defined as the "wisdom born of ecological understanding and insight." The foundational figure in this movement was Arne Naess, a Norwegian philosopher who built on the work of Rachel Carson and others to give us "deep ecology." Only after reading about deep ecology did I realize I was a member of this movement before I knew what it was. Learning sometimes works that way.

Anyway, the essay scheduled to appear is titled "Life on the Move." Basically -- and I write this with sincere humility -- only I could have written it. That's because it is my attempt to bridge very different worlds. The essay applies knowledge I gained over six years teaching a "Strategy and War" graduate seminar for the Naval War College (a position I have since left) to my growing understanding of how we are (mis)handling the problem of invasive species. The setting, of course, is Potomac Creek, so there's a lot of personal background in there, too. I feel secure in assuming there isn't another writer occupying that particular Venn diagram of interests and experiences.

The peer-review process was bit fraught. In fact, I later learned that a "vehement" disagreement between the first two manuscript readers over whether my essay fit the journal's goals led them to conscript a third reader, something they hadn't done in years. The third reviewer then broke the tie and -- with very minor revisions -- the essay is due to appear in December 2023 or January 2024.  I'm grateful. And "vehement!" -- how I wish I was a fly on the wall that day...

But what especially tickles me -- and prompted today's post -- is the abstract attached to the essay, which I just saw for the first time. I didn't write it. In fact, I am terrible at writing synopses and abstracts for my own work. I don't know why. But I would surely starve as a Hollywood producer because distilling my ideas down to a one or two-sentence "pitch" leaves me paralyzed. How does one summarize thousands of carefully-selected words in a single, pithy statement without committing a gross injustice? Don't ask me. It's like having to say what you love about your kid in a couple of words.

But editors are amazing people -- the good ones, anyway, and happily that seems to be the type I'm fated to work with. Here's what The Trumpeter came up with:

What does the War on Terror have to teach us about the ongoing War on Invasive Species? Rooted in the author's personal experiences as an immigrant on a family farm in Virginia, this essay explores themes of language, mental frames, and  violent conflict in novel ways that shed insight into the morality of the struggle to manage unwanted species.  

Wow -- I love it! Never in a million years could I have summed up this essay so eloquently and concisely.

So, yes, today's post is really just a big tease. Like Betty Boop. Stay tuned! 

 

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