Co-Author and Friend

Dr. John C. Brandt (No, I dont know why he looks so surprised in this picture. Ask him sometime... )
Dr. John C. Brandt (No, I don't know why he looks so surprised in this picture. Ask him sometime... )

In the previous entry for December 4, I talked some about my latest book, Visions of the Cosmos, but actually it’s not just MY book. It’s a project that my co-author, Jack Brandt, and I undertook starting about two or three years ago. I get the question a lot about how I ended up partnering with Jack Brandt on books. It’s a long story, but here’s the executive summary. Way back when I decided to go back to school to study astronomy and suchlike stuff, I needed to find a job that was a bit less demanding than lecturing at the planetarium. So I applied for a job with a group called the International Halley Watch, involving measuring plasma tail characteristics captured in images of Comet Halley. The head of the group at CU was a guy named John Brandt, whom I’d never heard of, but I was told he was a good fellow.

The day of the interview we talked for a few minutes about the work and then another hour about mutual acquaintances and experiences. A couple of days later, he wrote me an email inviting me to join his team. Little did I know at the time that I’d just lucked into a major friendship and partnership that continues to this day. Jack is pretty amazing — he’s one of those people who has been there and done that and has amusing stories to tell about all of it. Among his varied academic and work experiences, he studied under Subramanian Chandrasekhar at the University of Chicago, was a grad student along with Carl Sagan, spent some time teaching at Berkeley, Columbia University, and the University of Maryland, was a lab chief at Goddard, led the Hubble Space Telescope’s Goddard High Resolution Spectrograph team, and many other career moves that I found out about as I worked for him from 1988 through the end of 1996. It was a rewarding eight years and a period of my life that I enjoyed very much (and that I found challenging and stimulating).

In the early 1990s, just as I began my graduate work at CU (with much encouragement from Jack), I started working on Hubble Vision. At first Jack was my science advisor and fact-checker, but as time went by I realized he was offering much more than an advisor would do, so I asked him to be my co-author. He agreed so quickly I knew it was the right move. Ultimately, we went through two editions of that book and ended up authoring and editing several other papers and a conference proceedings together, too. While we wrote Hubble Vision during our tenure at the University of Colorado, our latest partnership, on Visions of the Cosmos, required us to communicate through email and telephone between Massachusetts (where I moved in 1997) and New Mexico (where he retired a couple of years later) — rather than by the almost daily contact we had during the time I worked for him at CU. Now, after several years of this strange long-distance partnership, we’ve managed to crank out another book (see my previous entry), we’re still talking to each other, and I’d like to think we’ve turned out a good book together. Or at least, that great minds think alike!

Jack taught me a great many things, not always in the classroom or during our bouts of research. For instance, before I met him I had never drunk Watney’s Cream Stout. I didn’t know much about red wine. I hadn’t been to too many baseball games. And, before he had me working for him, I doubt Jack had been too cognizant of such things as planetarium shows, space music, and good Mexican food. Of such things are friendships made — and they continue. Jack and his lovely wife Dorothy have hosted us in their New Mexico home several times (and before that in their Colorado home), and they’ve come to visit us in Massachusetts a few times. This past October, Mark and I met up with them in Miami for a Jazz Cruise through the Caribbean. It was a wonderful way to celebrate the completion of our latest book project, Dorothy’s birthday, and the occasion of Mark and my 25th wedding anniversary.

So, the next question is, will Jack and I do another book together soon? Anything could happen… 😉 We’ll keep everybody posted!

Visions of the Cosmos (see Spacewriters Gift Shop)
Visions of the Cosmos (see Spacewriter's Gift Shop)

My latest book has arrived! After more than two years of work, Visions of the Cosmos is finally a reality. My advance copy arrived a couple of days ago and I’ve been paging through it to see how everything turned out. Mind you, I’d seen the whole thing in layout when the publisher sent me PDF copies for final approval a couple of months ago, but holding the real thing in my hand seems like the culmination of a long birth process. Now, I just hope it sells! It’s starting to trickle into the bookstores here in the U.S., although it’s been on the shelves in the UK for a few weeks now. Amazon has it listed as arriving after Dec. 24, but they constantly update their stock, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it showed up as “available now” any time. And, it appears likely the book will spread worldwide. The publisher (Cambridge University Press) wrote this morning to tell me that there’s a good possibility that it will go into six translations very soon.

So, we started out wanting to write about the cosmos — and we did. But, after that part’s done, the mundane, down-to-earth tasks were left. Those were the work of a cast of dozens of people, starting with Jack and me, to the editors, layout artists, graphics people, printer folk, bindery people, shipping and warehousing personnel, the Post Office, the bookstore buyers and sellers. Now is the fun part for the reader — sitting back and exploring the universe — assimilating the ideas we wrote about in the book.

So, how does a book get published in the digital age? The whole thing was pretty much done digitally. All of the images were sent as TIF or EPS files (a few had to be scanned into TIF format) and the text went as WORD2000 files. Proofs were done digitally as PDFs, except for the final image proofs, which I still insisted be sent to me in hard copy. The strangest things happen when you move from digital back to print — some of which are out of the author’s control and are left to the printer gods to handle. When I got the cromalin proofs (sort of like very fine, heavy-paper photographic prints) one of the images I sent came back with what looked like a screen-door crosshatch pattern on it. I figure it was due to the screening process, but obviously that would have been unacceptable in a print book. So, I drew it to the publisher’s attention and it was fixed in the final version. Multiply that sort of problem by a hundred or a thousand-fold in terms of error-correction, fact-checking, layout correction, and queries about why the typesetter did a page a certain way, and you begin to understand that the act of writing a book doesn’t end when the writer types the final words in the last chapter. Detail, detail, detail. It’s a lesson the writer has to learn, and in reality, I’ve found that I have to be a very proactive partner with the publisher to make sure the book turns out the way I (and my co-author) envisioned it.

Would I do it all again? Sure. This is the sixth time I’ve been through the book publishing process. It’s the most involved I’ve been in production of my own work, although when I worked at Sky Publishing I edited two books and was very involved in those as well. No matter whose work is being published, it’s never routine — each project has its similarities, and each one has had its glitches and obnoxious points. But in the end, all that mattered was that the reader got a quality product.

Exploring Science and the Cosmos

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