One of the biggest challenges of writing an academic monograph is that writing and revising them is a process that unfolds over years. During that time, you’re also expected to publish standalone articles and, toward the end of your book project, begin work on your next major project. This means you need to keep moving the longer-term book project forward at the same time that you’re focusing on shorter-term projects like conference papers and articles. It sounds like a recipe for burnout!
I’ve found, though, that I can leverage this situation to avoid burnout. What works well for me is a system I call “parallel writing”: not just alternating between extended periods working on the book and working on other projects, but actually maintaining momentum on multiple projects simultaneously, including in the same day. In fact, this system has helped me capitalize on the different types of focus and mental bandwidth I have throughout the day. But this system requires intentional planning to work well. Here’s how I structured this practice while I was working on my first book.
I Chose Two Projects in Radically Different Stages
In my experience, the first key to successful parallel writing is choosing your projects wisely. Because you will be working on them in different time slots in the day—each of which has its own focus and bandwidth—you’ll need to pick projects in radically different stages.
I typically chose to work on: 1. A longer-term drafting project I needed to produce from scratch; 2. The project I needed to finish next (revise and resubmit, copyediting, macro or micro revising project).
Others I have worked with have had success balancing: 1. Their “main” project (whether drafting or revising); 2. Their “next up” project for which they were reading, researching, and making notes.
I Prioritized My “Drafting” Project
While it might seem counterintuitive, I always chose to prioritize my “drafting” project—the project whose time horizon was much longer—over my “revising” project, usually the one that was due next. First, I figured that producing new words would be the lynchpin in keeping my scholarly pipeline flowing. Second, I realized that producing words—or, at the very least, working on a project with a much longer time horizon—was the important but not urgent task that would naturally be the lowest priority, especially during crunch times. Finally, revising projects—or those with the closest external deadline—benefit from the sense of urgency that keeps me highly motivated to work on them. For these reasons, I considered my “drafting” project primary and prioritized it during my peak times.
I Scheduled My “Drafting” Project for my Peak Times
I found that working on my “drafting” project first thing (before teaching, prepping, grading, responding to email, etc.) for 1–2 hours almost every day during the semester allowed me to keep my drafting projects moving forward.
I Worked on My “Revising” Project Later
Most sources agree that people have an upper limit on creative focus of about four hours each day. (And I personally can rarely do more than two hours of focused work generating new text per day, especially during the semester.) It’s unrealistic and counterproductive to expect (or force!) yourself to use your creative faculties (produce new words or generate new insights) for longer than four hours.
The good news?
In my experience, “revising”—reverse outlining, restructuring, revising topic sentences, etc.—takes a very different brain space than producing new words. I found that once my creative faculties had been depleted, I could still engage in these activities.
In practice, I settled into a comfortable rhythm of devoting an additional 1-2 hours in the afternoon (once my creative faculties had been depleted) to this work. While I aspired to work on this secondary project most days, my logs reveal I was typically able to work on it every other day, usually on non-teaching days. The one exception is that in the final few weeks of the project, when I could sense the end was near, I typically worked on this secondary project more frequently and for longer because my motivation to complete it was high.
Conclusion
This practice of parallel writing allowed me to keep the works flowing through my scholarly pipeline. Instead of starting one project and working on it until completion before repeating the process with another project, which would have led to either significant gaps in publication or a sense of whiplash as I toggled between the book and articles, I toggled between projects at different stages in a way that worked with, not against, my natural variations in energy and motivation. And with some strategic choices, I succeeded in prioritizing the important but not urgent work of consistently producing new words and moving my longer-term projects forward.
