Reviewing in ELT publishing

Over the past few weeks, I've been reviewing materials – it's one of those jobs within ELT publishing that doesn't get talked about much, but which can be surprisingly satisfying and useful for career development … whatever stage of your career you're at.

By reviewing, I'm not talking about writing book reviews of already published materials, I'm referring to work that goes on before publication.  Draft materials are sent out to reviewers to get feedback on as part of the process of development. Exactly who, how and when will vary depending on the type of title and also depending on the publisher and publishing schedule. I can only talk about the reviewing I've experienced both as a reviewer and as a writer on the receiving end of reviewers' feedback.

What is the job of a reviewer?

The first thing to say is that reviewers are not editors. Editors work closely with writers to help develop the content, the format, the style and then along the line, to nit-pick the details and polish up the manuscript. Reviewers, on the other hand, are much more at arm's length and provide an outside perspective on the material.

Often in ELT, reviewers will be practising teachers working in the target market(s) for the book who are ideally placed to comment on how well the materials are likely to work with their students. They may pick up on issues that would never have occurred to the writers or editorial staff. Reviewers can also be specialists in a particular area brought in to assess the material from a specific angle. I've acted as a specialist reviewer looking at vocabulary using my corpus skills, at content designed to teach academic skills or at whether material hits the mark preparing students for a particular exam. From a slightly different angle, I've also written reviews of published material for publishers who are planning new editions and thinking about what to change.

The number and type of reviewers will vary as will the stage at which they review the material and how much they're asked to look at. Reviewing may be a one-off process or it may be repeated. And how much of what the reviewer says will reach the authors will vary too. As a writer, I've had instances where the full reviewer's report was sent to me directly, but more often it's been filtered through an editor.  And of course, the feedback that comes from different reviewers is often wildly contradictory, but that's a subject for another day!

What makes a good reviewer?

When a publisher asks someone to review material, they will typically provide a fairly detailed brief, often a set of specific questions that they'd like the reviewer to answer. They're not looking for a long rambling report on what you think of the material in general and what they definitely don't want is a list of typos and suggestions for better wording! A good reviewer addresses the specific issues they've been asked to look at, giving clear explanations, reasons and examples to back up the points they make – including, if possible, both positive and negative points. Of course, the writer/publisher wants to know about any potential problems with the material, but they also want feedback on what you like, what you think your students will like or what will work well in the classroom. There will often be space for extra comments outside of the target questions, but here the key is to be selective. Comment on those things that really stand out and seem significant, don't get caught up in minor details – which, after all, might change anyway in the edit.

Why review?

Reviewing may not be the glamorous end of the publishing process – if you're lucky, you'll get your name in a tiny credit on the back page – but it can be surprisingly rewarding.

For teachers hoping to get into ELT writing, it's one way to get a foot in the publishing door. It's a way to build up contacts and being seen to produce a professional, well-informed report, to brief and on time is a good starting point for putting yourself forward for other work. More importantly, though, I think it's a good way to gain insight into the publishing process. The kind of questions that the publisher asks can give you an insight into the concerns and considerations around published ELT materials that may not be the same as those for materials you create for your own classes.

For me though, the most useful part of being a reviewer, whether you’re a newbie or have been writing for 20 years, is the process of reading someone else's material and really thinking about how it works. You don't just look for what works and what doesn't on an intuitive level, but you have to think about why and how you're going to explain that. It makes you realize just how many different balls an ELT writer is trying to juggle all at the same time … how language works, how learners learn language, skills, vocab, grammar, pronunciation, what's interesting and engaging, what's motivating, what works in the classroom, in one context or across different contexts, authenticity, consistency, adaptability, level, age, education systems, learners' aims, exams and testing, diversity and inclusivity, what will be approved by ministries of education, what will sell, timing, layout, page fit, different media, permissions … And of course, it's not surprising that sometimes they're going to drop some of those balls!

Recently, I've been lucky enough to be involved in reviewing some new materials on an on-going basis, looking at each unit as it's written. The material is by some very experienced authors for whom I have a lot of respect. Lots of things are pretty much as I'd have done them myself, but I'm always coming across stuff that I wouldn't necessarily have thought of – clever little additions or approaches that work really well to address a particular issue, that I'm mentally filing away to use myself at some point in the future. And of course, there are also the things that don't quite work, or more often, that are just missing, which mean I have to stop and think about how to explain, to justify, to exemplify my feedback. Sometimes I start to add something to my report then delete it because I decide it's not important or that actually something that comes later overrides my point. Sometimes, a point that initially seems quite minor makes me realize there's actually a wider issue to be addressed.

All in all, reviewing can be a fascinating process to be involved in and for me, it's a really valuable part of my working mix.

Creative Control and the ELT Writer

So as an ELT writer, I come up with an idea for a coursebook, submit a proposal to a publisher, then I have full creative control over everything from the approach and the syllabus, to the page format and design. Right?

Well, in 18 years as a full-time writer, I’ve never submitted a proposal for a book (publishers have always come to me) and I’ve only co-authored one coursebook. Most of my writing involves supplementary and often self-study materials or it’s a contribution to a larger project. Given that context, the degree of creative control I have over the material I write varies enormously and I certainly never get a completely free hand.

A number of recent blog posts have got me thinking about exactly how much creative control I have and how I feel about it.

Publisher-led projects: 

Verity Cole wrote a couple of really interesting posts about the rise of publisher-led projects, which one editor quoted in her post defined as those “conceived and created primarily by a publisher in response to a specific market opportunity”. This is particularly true, I think, of the large, multi-level General English coursebook series where a publisher is investing a lot of money and, increasingly, is demanding more control over the writing to ensure the product ticks all the market-driven boxes and, hopefully, sells. When writers are brought on board, they are generally given an incredibly detailed brief explaining exactly what they have to write and how. Sometimes to the point where it can become very much a case of ‘writing by numbers’. 

It can be a creative challenge in its own right trying to come up with material you feel happy with but still sticking within a rigid brief. But it can also be very frustrating and de-motivating, especially when you end up feeling that you’re being asked to go against the principles you believe in. Which brings me onto …

Sticking to your principles:

Katherine Bilsborough has written a number of blog posts about the principles that we, as ELT writers, hold to when we’re writing (see here and here). It’s something I’ve mulled over quite a bit and, sorry Kath, I haven’t quite managed to formulate my own principles into a post of their own yet (but watch this space …). There’s no doubt though that there are principles I consciously try to stick to when I’m writing, some of which I’m prepared to compromise slightly if pushed and others which are clear red lines that I won’t cross. Some of these principles come from experience as a teacher, teacher trainer and writer, some, especially in my specialist area of vocabulary, come from my understanding of the research (see Penny Ur’s MaWSIG blog post for my comment on the limitations of that research foundation). This makes working on many publisher-led projects something of a professional tug-of-war. If you agree to a job, you inevitably have to accept a degree of compromise and you have to pick your battles carefully. 

Recent experience:

I have worked on some of those big coursebook series, but largely, on workbooks. And as the kind of material in workbooks is, by its nature, already very limited, it generally raises fewer issues of principle than  producing the main students book material might involve. Working on smaller, more niche titles, I find, may be less high profile (and possibly less lucrative), but can bring a bit more freedom. Take two projects I worked on that were published at the start of this year.

The first consisted of two academic vocabulary practice books designed primarily for self study (Oxford Academic Vocabulary Practice, OUP). I was lucky enough to have a lot of input into the initial development, producing sample units that were reviewed and discussed and fiddled with until we were happy with them. And by we, I mean primarily myself and my in-house editor and later on, a co-author, not a huge, unwieldy team. That’s not to say I had complete control. I was asked to cover as much as possible of the Academic Word List, largely for marketing purposes. I have a number of reservations about the AWL, but I didn’t have to stick to it slavishly and there was still plenty of scope for including the vocabulary I felt was most useful and important. Then, there were some technical constraints on the types of activities I could use because they had to work in a potential ebook version as well as in print, but nothing that I couldn’t get around with a bit of creative thinking.

The second project was a book of photocopiable vocabulary-focused lessons for IELTS prep (Timesaver IELTS Vocabulary, Scholastic). As this was part of an existing series, it naturally came with some things already decided in terms of general format; one or two-page standalone photocopiable lessons which had to be ‘teach-off-the-page’ as they don’t come with any teacher’s notes. And as IELTS prep, it had a narrow focus dictated by the format of the exam too. Beyond that though, I was given a lot of creative control in terms of what vocabulary I chose, how I wanted to organize it and the types of activities I went for. It turned out to be fun to write and again, I had a great working relationship with a (freelance) editor who really helped shape the material in a friendly, collaborative sort of way.

This year’s writing projects have been, let’s say, more of a challenge and as I come to the end of several months of busily writing to meet tough deadlines and at the same time, being in the middle of that professional tug-of-war, I’m feeling just a bit battered and bruised. But perhaps I’ll save those battles for another post …

The Future of Publishing - the future of writers?

On Saturday, I went to a Society of Authors' Educational Writers' Group seminar in London. I've been a member of the society for a few years and go to their meetings and events on and off. They often throw up new ideas, new contacts or just things to think about and Saturday's event was no exception. There were three speakers from publishers who each gave a presentation on the topic of "the future of publishing", followed by a Q&A. There was, unsurprisingly, quite a bit of talk about new media; its pros and cons, in which areas and markets it had potential (and where it didn't), when to embrace and when to reject it.

What I found more interesting though was the thorny issue of how we can actually make money from 'more than just books'. I've raised questions before about all the extra components that seem to go to make up many ELT materials nowadays, many of them e-components - CD-ROMs, e-workbooks, online resources, blogs etc. In my post about the Global launch, I pondered whether all the different parts we'd put so much effort into producing would actually get used. So it was very interesting to hear Sue Jones, Managing Editor of ELT Publishing at Macmillan (who publish Global) admitting that they know that much of this extra material isn't really used and certainly doesn't make any money, but because it's come to be expected, publishers have to produce it just to keep up with the competition. And of course, all this extra material has to be written by someone. And if it isn't making the publishers any extra money, then how can they afford to pay us writers to produce it? Sue explained that they've had to give up on the idea of royalties for many products because it's too difficult to tease out who contributed what when you've got such a team of people working together on different components and also because, apart from the actual student's book, much of it is bundled or given away free. Fair enough, I suppose, but it was her next comment that she's often happy to agree a double fee rather than get caught up in royalties that caused a rather sharp intake of breath from many in the audience!

From my experience, and talking to other writers at the meeting, theirs too, fee-based writing tends to be incredibly mixed in terms of rewards, especially when it comes to 'new' media. I started writing material for CD-ROMs almost 15 years ago for a little software outfit in Prague. Back then, it was all very new and we were very much feeling our way. We didn't know quite what we could do, how much work it would involve or how much money the final product might go on to make. Inevitably, it turned out to involve a huge amount of work for relatively little reward - although I can't really complain because my modest fee for the work went towards the fees for the first part of my MA and kick-started my move from teaching to publishing! What surprises me though is that publishers still haven't worked out how much work is involved in many of these products and so what an appropriate fee might be. This combines with the fact that most work in publishing happens in such a rush and a panic that there's rarely time to get fees or contracts established before you actually get started on a piece of work. Thus the rates of pay - when you come to divide up your fee by the hours you ended up working - can vary wildly. Very occasionally an editor overestimates and it works out quite well, but more often than not, an everchanging brief drags the work out and the hours pile on and you see your hourly rate drop and drop. So that on one recent major project (that I won't name!) I found by the end that I'd earned all of £10 an hour for all my efforts!

And what's the effect of all this? Well, for me, it means I'm more cautious about taking on this type of writing work that's interesting, but potentially not economically viable (and always involves more work than you originally agree to!). I'm erring towards jobs that offer a clear hourly rate rather than a fee - which leads me back to lexicography, corpus research and editing rather than writing. And if other writers follow suit, who will take on these jobs - new and inexperienced writers, who are lured by the glamour but then equally move on when they discover they can't afford to keep giving their time away so cheaply? Increased turnover of writers may mean fresh ideas, but what about consistency, quality or continuity on big projects?