Loose ends 1: Limiting manuscript revision by optimal presentation of the core story.

Abstract

Andrew Moore Editor-in-Chief One of the biggest complaints of authors is that some reviewers want to put them to inordinate lengths in the revision process of their paper. From whichever perspective (author, editor, reviewer) we've all seen this: repetition of experiment X, modification of experiment Y, and – possibly even more daunting, though possibly also exciting – suggestion of completely-new-experiment Z! Of course, it's up to the paper's authors whether they agree to do all of this, and how, but they probably feel some pressure: after all, a peer in their field has made those suggestions. Furthermore, that peer will doubtless be one of the readers of the paper, and may very well be representative of opinions of part of the readership in general. Though review papers tend to experience this phenomenon less than research papers, an integrative, synthetic review that presents novel insights can certainly lead to some “unreasonable” reviewer requests. Of course, these won't send the author(s) back to the laboratory bench to do more experiments, but the sentiment and principle are the same. For part 1 of this series, let's go back to the beginning. As an editor, I see that in many cases the seeds of loose ends are planted at the point of conception of a paper, and here's why: details, inconclusive results, and qualifications are mixed in with the major conclusions in a sub-optimally organized creative process. This leads to a classic “type” of paper: one that starts every section with details, and mixes important principles with qualifications within single sentences. Even in the hands of the best reviewer, such a paper tends to distract its reader from core messages. How to nip the loose ends in the bud? Start writing the paper the right way: identify core findings – and connect them to produce larger insights: those connexions might – depending on the exact nature of the research – be chronological or logical, but the main point here is that at this initial level of conceptual organization you aim for very high-level insights without detail or qualification. Clearly, in many research projects – and particularly in the life sciences – results are not black or white, and qualification of findings, or an acknowledgement of their uncertainty, is absolutely necessary. As an author, imagine this as the thin atmosphere surrounding the solid planet of your main thesis: this thin layer sustains the growth of the central ideas (life would be the planetary analogy) because it makes clear that they are an unfinished story. But first of all, the solid planet itself has to be built. The phases mustn't mix, so the core story must be a rocky planet, not a gas giant! Once you've encapsulated your “planet” (core story) with sufficient qualifying atmosphere in the planning stage, stop there: that is the end of your story for that particular paper. Don't start speculating in the main part of the discussion on the origins of the three moons orbiting your planet. You can do that in one or two sentences right at the end without “baiting” reviewers. At the point of writing, the planetary analogy has to be reversed, sorry! In sections and sub-sections you need to express the concepts first and last (the second time in way of reminder), and place details and qualifications in the middle, hence encapsulating detail and qualification with the main findings put in simple fashion: main finding; details/qualifications; reminder of main finding. This might seem a bit artificial, or even crass, but remember this: you know what you've done in your research, and what the main story is, but the reviewer doesn't unless you tell her/him! Keeping messages simple and incorporating structured repetition, whilst separately introducing necessary detail and qualification, helps the reviewer understand your paper. From what I've seen of papers over the years, the reviewers are not entirely to blame for requesting “unreasonable” things during revision: many become genuinely interested by the potential of a paper, or part of a paper, because it's been overemphasized by the author(s). So here's a thought to end on: the vast majority of suitable reviewers are not 100% in the same area as the author(s) of a paper. Stray too far outside your main story, and you may well stray too far into their main story! Andrew Moore Editor-in-Chief