How I wrote a Pop Science book

 Originally from Nature: https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-021-02835-6 

I have always loved the writing part of my scientific career but had never seen a path to develop it. Beyond the output of research papers in my field of immunology, there was never time to think about a larger piece of work. The cycle of grants and papers didn’t leave much room for anything else. Little did I know at the start of last year, that all this was going to change: I was about to find myself writing a book about a pandemic, during the pandemic, whilst also working as a medical researcher investigating the pandemic.

I’d not really intended to write a book on infectious diseases, but the closure of my lab in March 2020 left me in the need for something other than home-schooling and worrying about my lack of new experimental data. Luckily, I had a plan B. In November 2019 I had been in touch with a literary agent, Caroline Hardman of Hardman Swainson (https://www.hardmanswainson.com/), and tried to pitch her a book about my life in science – after all, I’d written already for online periodicals and started a blog (http://drtregoning.blogspot.com/) which seemed generally well received. Not entirely surprisingly she said ‘no’, as a book about my career would be of interest solely to me and maybe some members of my family. Caroline had the far better idea of writing a book about the science behind infectious disease and then, six months later, fate intervened in the form of the coronavirus, giving me both time to write by shutting my lab, and additional thematic motivation on the subject matter.

Getting an agent came through a number of factors; many of are the same as those required for a scientific career. Persistence, I had been trying to pitch my careers book for 12 months before I spoke to Caroline. Networking, Caroline also represents Professor Dan Davis (University of Manchester), who has written three books and served as an informal writing mentor to me. Luck, the pandemic meant the topic I was best placed to write about (infections) was of a wide interest.

As my agent, Caroline helped me develop the overall pitch for the book, getting it into a shape that would be looked at by the editors at publishing houses. Pitching a non-fiction book is not dissimilar to a grant submission. You write an abstract of the whole work, a brief outline of the plan, include some preliminary data (in the form of previous written work and a sample chapter), a short CV, a comparison to the rest of the field and something resembling an impact statement (a summary of who might actually buy this book and why). Caroline then shopped the manuscript around to various publishers. This part of the process was definitely familiar from trying (and failing) to get manuscripts into journals; the best part was I didn’t have to do it myself.

The pitch was accepted by Sam Carter, Editorial Director at OneWorld (https://oneworld-publications.com/) in May 2020, with a due date for my first draft of December the same year. OneWorld are an independent publisher with a focus on non-fiction and have also published two Booker prize winners. In their science list, I am in extremely good company, both the Nobel Prize winner Barry Marshall and the former president of the Royal Society Venki Ramakrishnan have published books with them.

But a pitch is not the same as a completed book; up to May 2020 the process hadn’t been especially demanding of my time, requiring the odd hour here and there, but didn’t really prepare me for what was next. OneWorld gave me a target of 90,000 words, which even from my experience in academia working on theses and lengthy papers seemed a lot. I did some quick calculations: I needed to write around 3,000 words a week, every week, between May and December.

Thus commenced a mad dash against the clock. In an attempt to motivate myself, I used Excel to record words written vs words required. Some weeks I’d be ahead of the curve, many weeks behind it. My mood on a Sunday evening was directly linked to how many words I’d got down on paper the week before. For the six months May-December, Saturday and Sunday mornings would find me in front of the laptop. One of the unexpected side effects was that I found myself unable to read any other books, I just had too many words in my head already. But curiously having that structure and a forced deadline was in some ways beneficial; there was no time to get bored.

I owe a great debt to my wife who on top of her own job took on an extra burden of the childcare on these weekend mornings. Finally, late one night in December, it was done -- or at least the first draft was. There were still multiple edits, re-edits, comma splices to unsplice, proofs and print drafts to be read over the next 9 months.

The book itself is an overview of all aspects of Infectious disease. It starts with the underpinning ‘ologies  - epidemiology, microbiology, immunology that help us understand infectious diseases and then moves to the drugs and vaccines we use to prevent and cure infections. It draws a lot on the subject matter I have been teaching for the last 10 years and I have filled it with as many facts, anecdotes and curiosities as I could find. With the help of my teenaged son as proof-reader, I have tried to aim it at an audience aged 13 years and upwards.

So, what have I learnt?

1. It takes a lot of time. If you want to write a book, be sure you have the time, the space and the support to do it. It took me the best part of 12 hours a week for 30 weeks, the equivalent of 12 working weeks. This was on top of the day job and the unbridled joy of home-schooling. Some might say this was quite quick; but it certainly required a lot of extra effort.
   
   
2. Build a portfolio. None of this happened from a standing start. Building a portfolio of writing was vital. Evidence that I could string a sentence together that others were prepared to read was critical in getting the process moving. It doesn’t have to all happen at once; I started writing when I was 19. If it is a path you are interested in set up your own blog and speak to editors about writing for them. It is equally important to develop a voice – this comes from time and experience.
   
   
3. Writing a book is really hard. There is a persistent myth that everyone has one book in them. In the same way that nearly everyone has an appendix. Getting either out is not a simple matter. The process of writing took a lot of time and drained a lot of creative energy for other activities.
   
   
4. Learn the craft. Whilst reading widely is important, there are also technical aspects to writing. My shelves are weighed down with books about writing. From the creative side of the process (Stephen King’s On writing) to the technical (Roy Peter Clark’s On Writing). Writing well pays off in other areas: papers and grants are often best presented as stories, for example.

 

5. Read widely. Read whatever you can, magazines, journals, high-brow literature, tweeny dystopia. All have value in terms of pacing, words, structures that you can draw upon. They also give you a wellspring of facts to draw upon.
   
   
6. Word dump. ‘Pantsing’, where you just throw the words on the page in a rough order and worry about shaping them later, can be an immensely helpful way to start writing. Hemingway described this process as ‘write drunk, edit sober’. The way the creative bit of my brain works is different to the critical part and they don’t work well together- this is common for most people. It applies to all writing – theses, papers, applications. Get the words out there and then worry if they make sense later.
   
   
7. Persist. The book I wanted to write about my fabulous life in science was rejected multiple times (as was my children’s book about an octopus who only laughs after he gets ten-tickles #spoiler) before the preliminary conversation that lead to an entirely different book. As with all things in science, persisting does eventually pay off, but you need to develop a thick skin.

As the book finally reaches physical publication on October 14^th 2021, I ask myself: was it worth it? I have no idea how it will affect my ‘career’. In terms of the route one grants/papers academic track it may not change that much. However, it will open opportunities for science communication through festivals and talks which may then open up other unanticipated opportunities. It also gave much needed structure to my pandemic year and writing a book is one of the things I have always wanted to do, and I really enjoyed it. So on balance, yes it has been worth it, but ultimately judge for yourself – INFECTIOUS is out now.