How To Make Your Abstracts Work For You
A beautiful abstract is a thing of beauty. It can open so many doors, from conferences and networking opportunities, to publications and jobs. They are the amuse-bouche of academic writing, the morsel that hooks us and makes us want to keep reading. But so much work goes into that delicate canape, so I wanted to share a few ways you can make your abstracts work for you.
This is not a traditional “how to”. There are so many good resources out there to walk you through the nitty gritty. Maybe one day I’ll come up with my own version, but today I want to capture the big picture because I have been writing them for the past 10 years but I have realised that not everyone integrates them into their lifestyle like I do (I am living my best life).
So how can you put your abstracts to work?
Say Yes to the Abstract
If a call for abstracts (CFA) sounds interesting to you, apply. Just do it. Don’t just limit yourself to the conferences and publications you think you “should” apply to; if something excites you, go for it. Your abstract may not be accepted, but I would argue that acceptance is the cherry on top, not the most useful part of writing and abstract. Although writing always involves work, abstracts offer the opportunity to get weird without taking up too much energy. No one has time write a 10 000-word cool-but-extraneous essay, but most of us can manage 500 words. CFAs are opportunities and they are yours for the seizing. So flex your engagement and communication muscle and just say yes to the abstract.
2. Writer’s Block Blaster
We all let the blank page get the best of us sometimes, but if abstracts can help you overcome writer’s block if you treat them as a creative writing exercise. Many academics (myself included) don’t think of themselves as creative writers, yet the producing a piece that captures conceptual complexity while being engaging and clear is a true feat of creativity. Abstracts provide tight constraints: A short word count and a specific topic. Writing to a brief can really move things around in your head and, whether you end up submitting the abstract of not (I say always submit unless it is truly shocking; what’s the worse that could happen?), I guarantee the blank page has nothing on you now.
3. Find Your Focus
Having an over-active, racing mind bursting with ideas can be as paralysing as drawing a blank. When you have to bring one point across clearly and convincingly, you are forced to prioritise and focus. I always ask myself three things when I write an informative abstract:
1) Does this present a clear point of view and the outline of an argument?
2) Does it explicitly address the theme or topic (either in the references I used or by using key words from the CFA)?
3) Have a tailored it to the audience? Using too much sub-discipline-specific jargon is not appropriate for interdisciplinary projects, nor is being too general and vague a good thing, especially when you are addressing colleagues in your field.
If you reflect on your abstract-writing, you are actively practising skills that are essential to all good writing.
4. Practice Editing
I don’t know about you, but editing does not come naturally to me. I have friends who relish in that stage of the writing process, but it was an acquired taste for me, one that I work on every day. If we are talking about training, diversity is very important; edit your long work, your short work, the work of your peers (both officially and unofficially), your teaching materials and your book chapters. Abstracts are just another opportunity to hone your refining skills. If you can fine tune short and punchy writing, chances are it will benefit the rest of your work.
5. Play Well with Others
In philosophy, as in most other humanities, multi-author publications are rarer than in the social and natural sciences. However, this should not put you off of collaborations with other academics (what is the status quo for other than to be smashed?). I personally love working with people whose scholarship I admire because it reinvigorates me and pushes me to learn, something I hope I never stop doing. That being said, co-writing is very difficult, especially if there are no firm rules about it in your discipline. Well, there’s no better test than the abstract! It allows you to play with platforms: do you function best working with tracked changes and comments or do you prefer writing separately and the reviewing each piece for the best parts? It teaches you about voice and tone; when you write with someone else, it still needs to sound like one person, which forces you to think about style like never before. Finally, it tells you a lot about your writing partner: are they reliable? Is the workload uneven? Sometimes, before committing to a long project with someone, it’s best to suss out your partnership’s compatibility. On the other hand, this experience will hopefully teach you how to be considerate and realistic about what you can contribute.
It is so easy to overlook the humble abstract. For some academics, it is another necessary chore, but for others it is not a consistent part of their writing and engagement routine. Hopefully, I have shown you that you can make your abstracts work for you on multiple levels, from challenging and refining your dynamic writing practice to seizing the opportunity to share your work with your peers, with stakeholders, and with the public. Above all, abstracts can be a sneaky creative tool in your scholarship tool belt; it is small but mighty.