Category Archives: A Brief History of Timekeeping

A Brief History of Timekeeping: Resubmitted

It’s been exactly seven months since I last updated my progress on A Brief History of Timekeeping, with a report that I had submitted the complete manuscript last December. I have since gotten two rounds of editorial comments on it, and made corresponding revisions, and I sent my editor the (hopefully) (mostly) final versions of the figures yesterday, so it now moves off to the production team at BenBella; in a couple of weeks, I’ll get the joy of going over the copyedits…

In celebration of that, here’s the new and improved table of contents:

  • Introduction: A Clock Is a Thing That Ticks
  • Chapter 1: Sunrise
  • Chapter 2: The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars
  • Chapter 3: “Give Us Our Eleven Days!”
  • Chapter 4: The Apocalypse That Wasn’t
  • Chapter 5: Drips and Drops
  • Chapter 6: Ticks and Tocks
  • Chapter 7: Heavenly Wanderers
  • Chapter 8: Celestial Clockwork
  • Chapter 9: To the Moon . . .
  • Chapter 10: Watch This
  • Chapter 11: Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?
  • Chapter 12: The Measure of Spacetime
  • Chapter 13: Quantum Clocks
  • Chapter 14: Time and Gravity
  • Chapter 15: Time Enough for Everyone
  • Chapter 16: The Future of Time

And, up at the top, you see the US cover (there’s a UK cover as well, though I’m not sure that one’s officially released yet). It also has a release date (January 25, 2022), and can be pre-ordered at Amazon and B&N if you are the sort of wonderful person who likes to do that kind of thing (insert boilerplate here about how pre-ordering books is a tremendously good and important thing to do for your favorite authors, and greatly increases the book’s chances of success).

Finishing this one was a bit of a slog, what with the entire world deciding to go batshit crazy when I was four chapters into the first draft. I’m proud of the final product, though, and look forward to it being released to the wider world at last.

Pandemic Productivity

As noted a couple of days ago, I turned in the completed manuscript of A Brief History of Timekeeping this week, most of which was written under pandemic conditions. This was, to put it mildly, a bit of a slog, in ways that might be worth writing about a little bit.

Looking at the creation dates of the files in my book-in-progress folder, I had basically four chapters in early draft form before everything went pear-shaped back in March. Up to that point, we had a pretty solid routine established that worked well for me: I would get up at five-ish, eat breakfast and walk the dog, then wake The Pip up around 6:30 to get him started getting ready for school. Kate would get up at around that same time, and take charge of feeding the Little Dude and getting him outside to wait for the bus (which came around 7:30). At about 7am, I would decamp for the Starbucks in Niskayuna, stake out a spot at one end of the bar seating, and stay there working on the book until 9-ish.

This worked really well for a couple of reasons, the primary one being that since I work with earbuds in listening to music, Starbucks is actually a low-distraction environment for me. If I want snacks or another drink, I need to pay for it, which is a significant deterrent, and if anybody else wants something, it’s Not My Problem.

Everything closing down in March blew that right to hell, in a bunch of ways. The entirely predictable one is that having Kate and the kids home during the day adds a huge number of distractions– when the kids want something, it is my problem, and that makes it really hard to get into any kind of flow. This can be mitigated to some degree by using earbuds at my home desktop, but that brings in problems of its own, in that not being able to hear and respond to an initial request will sometimes escalate it to the status of Major Problem.

The less predictable problem is that The Pip turns out to be a Morning Person. In retrospect this is something we maybe should’ve expected, as he really only needed active waking on school days– on weekends, I could open his door and say quietly “If you want to watch cartoons, you can come downstairs now,” and he’d explode out of bed and beat me down the stairs. Once school shut down, every morning was a tv-watching morning, so he started getting up early without prompting. Nine months into this mess, if I wake up before 5, I stay in bed reading until I can’t stand it any more, because the second I get up and start moving around, The Pip is awake and raring to go.

(We had a period where we tried to enforce a 6am limit before he could come downstairs, in hopes that he would go back to sleep, but we gave that up when he was doing things like sitting at the top of the stairs waiting to hear the clock chime. Attempting to get him back to sleep just wasn’t working, and I’m up anyway, so he just comes downstairs whenever I do.)

This is, obviously, a bit of a problem from a get-work-done perspective, but we reached a sort of détente, where he gets to watch videos on his tablet with headphones on, and I provide the basics of breakfast then do my work. He’s independent enough now to go get some of the snack food he eats for himself, without needing my help for anything that isn’t on a really high shelf.

Starting in early July, the kids went to a pandemic version of the day camp at the JCC that they’ve been going to forever, which got them out of the house. Kate’s office re-opened in a complicated manner (she goes in person Monday-Thursday every other week and works from home the other weeks and every Friday), and in September the schools reopened also in a complicated way (The Pip goes in person every day; SteelyKid is in person every other day, and doing remote school the other days). We’ve settled into a reasonably successful new routine as a result.

These days, I come downstairs around 5:30, get The Pip and Charlie the pupper fed, and take Charlie for a walk. That usually gets me home around 7am, and The Pip and I will wait outside for his bus, which comes around 7:20. After that, I run over to Starbucks to pick up my usual order (not because it’s stunningly high-quality tea, or because I think Starbucks the corporation needs my help to survive, but because I like the people who run that particular store, and want to support them), then settle in with earbuds to write. Kate takes care of getting SteelyKid up and downstairs for breakfast (this can be a MAJOR PROJECT; SteelyKid is very much not a Morning Person). If Kate’s working from home, she deals with getting SteelyKid out the door (middle school starts at 9:45) or logged into remote school; if it’s an office week for Kate, I take over once SteelyKid is downstairs.

That gets me a couple of hours of Writing Time at around the same time of day as the prior schedule, but it’s not quite as productive as my Starbucks time used to be. On days when I’m responsible for SteelyKid, that breaks things up a lot, but even when I’m the only human at home, Charlie the pupper is here. Like a lot of dogs, Charlie thinks work-from-home is the Greatest! Thing! EVER!, because he has at least one human around at all times. Which means a lot of chances to come over and alert me to the insolent squirrels in the back yard who urgently need to be chased, like, right now.

And then, of course, there’s the question of food. I do almost all of the meal prep in Chateau Steelypips, so if either of the kids is home, I’m the one in charge of making lunch. Which is not all bad– when I can get SteelyKid to come downstairs, we have some fun conversations at lunchtime– but does break things up. More than that, though, all the snacks in the house have already been paid for, so when I get hungry, it’s really hard not to just go into the kitchen and grab something to eat. And Charlie takes that as a sign that it’s time for an Insolent Squirrel sweep of the back yard, which sometimes takes a while, so everything is broken up way more than it used to be when I could go to a space that wasn’t mine.

(I could go to my office on campus, at least starting in September, but that means being around people, and while I’m not super paranoid about the virus, that doesn’t mean I want to spend long periods of time breathing shared air unless I absolutely have to.)

At the other end of the day, there’s a hard stop around 3pm; on in-person days, SteelyKid gets home around 3:15, and The Pip wants to be picked up from the after-school program at the JCC around 3:45. I usually feed the two of them dinner at about 5pm (if it’s an in-office week for Kate, adult dinner gets held until she gets home), which means starting food prep around 4:30, so that hour’s kind of useless. I’m also trying to be good and fit in an hour-ish of exercise a day (mostly biking or shooting hoops at a park when the weather was nicer) because when I don’t I get to feeling fat and sluggish and am even less able to get shit done than I would be if I tried to not carve out that time.

So, as I said, kind of a slog. Plus the general miasma of News all over everything all the time– the pandemic, the election, the pandemic’s effect on the election, the election’s effect on the pandemic, everybody’s blisteringly stupid Takes on the election and the pandemic and how they affect one another, and on and on. It’s been incredibly hard to focus these last nine months of March, 2020. Back at the beginning of the year, I thought the book was going to cruise to completion in the early fall, giving me a couple of months to do final tweaks and make figures and all that fiddly stuff; as it was, the last chapter or two were slightly stressful, and a bunch of the figures in the submitted draft are place-holders I grabbed off one website or another.

But, it’s done, on time and off to my editor. Which, alas, doesn’t mean a real vacation– I have a partial deadline for another thing in a couple of weeks, and I’ll be team-teaching a course on quantum computing starting in January, which will require some significant prep time. But after a bunch of flailing around, I’ve found something that mostly works to get stuff done in spite of, you know,… everything.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIMEKEEPING: Submitted

Today is my contractual deadline for submitting the manuscript of A Brief History of Timekeeping. I’m not sure this counts as the formal changeover from book-in-progress to book-in-process– I think that may actually be when the edits are finished and it goes off to the production team– but it’s definitely an inflection point. Here’s the table of contents as it currently exists (numbers in parentheses are word counts from Google Docs), with a brief description to unpack my cryptic chapter titles:

  • Intro: A Clock Is a Thing That Ticks (2563) Basic set-up of the book and the recurring themes
  • Chapter 1: Sunrise (5261) Motion of the Sun through the day and through the year, ancient solstice markers like Newgrange and Stonehenge
  • Chapter 2: The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars (8196) The yearly motion of the Sun against the background of stars, the phases of the Moon, and calendar systems from the Middle East and Europe
  • Chapter 3: The Maya (7077)  Everybody’s favorite Mesoamerican civilization, and [Jesse Ventura voice] the planet Venus.
  • Chapter 4: Drips and Drops (5864) The history of water clocks and sandglasses.
  • Chapter 5: Ticks and Tocks (8059) The basics of mechanical clocks and the physics of the pendulum
  • Chapter 6: Heavenly Wanderers (9355) Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler and the origins of the modern solar system.
  • Chapter 7: Longitude (6929) The method of lunar distances and mechanical clocks for shipboard use.
  • Chapter 8: Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? (4794) The introduction of time zones thanks to railroads and telegraphs
  • Chapter 9: The Measure of Spacetime (9042) The origins of Special Relativity in the physics of synchronizing clocks
  • Chapter 10: Quantum Clocks (9311) The basics of cesium atomic clocks and Coordinated Universal Time (UTC)
  • Chapter 11: Time and Gravity (4836) The origins of General Relativity and how it affects time
  • Chapter 12: The Future of Time (6187) Next-generation atomic clocks, including both trapped ions and optical lattice clocks
  • Conclusion: Time Enough for Everyone (2696) Quartz oscillators and the democratization of timekeeping.

This totals a hair over 90,000 words, which is a bit more than the contract called for. Oops. Of course, many of these will turn out to be the wrong words once my editor takes a look at it, so that’s definitely going to change…

I wish I had a cover image to put at the top of this post, but that hasn’t been decided yet (sometime in January). I do know that there are two top candidates, either of which I would be very happy with, so that’s good, and I look forward to being able to show off whichever one the sales team likes the best.

I say this about every book, but in a lot of ways this was the hardest to write so far, because it covers so many different subjects. Most of these I knew a bit about already because I’ve taught a class based on this general topic, but knowing enough to do a ten-week survey course and knowing enough to write a full book on a topic and get the details right are two very different things. I’ve got probably 100 pounds of books from Union’s library stacked in various places around the house, and a huge number of PDF papers in my references folder. There were more than a few points in this process where I found myself wishing I was more willing to run with the colorful but thinly sourced anecdotes I see in a lot of other pop-science writing, but I’m just not, which made a lot more work for me. (Thanks, also to Thony Christie and Tom Swanson for checking my work in a couple of chapters.) I’m reasonably proud of how it’s come out– when I did the full read-through these last couple of weeks, I didn’t hate it, and that’s a good sign at this stage.

And, of course, there was this whole global pandemic thing that forced me out of my happy writing place at the end of the counter in the Niskayuna Starbucks, and the sheer weight of pandemic and election news that made it super difficult to write anything at all.

At any rate, this first draft is officially complete, and the folder with all the chapter files is being shared with my editor today. Sadly, I don’t get much time to celebrate, as I’ve got a couple of day-job meetings today and a deadline for a different side hustle (no, it’s not a podcast) in two weeks. The fun just never ends in Chateau Steelypips.

The important thing is: the first draft of the book is complete: calloo, callay, and all that.

Announcing “A Brief History of Timekeeping”

The contract for my next book, working title “A Brief History of Timekeeping”

I mentioned some time back that it was feeling weird to not have an official Next Project to be working on. That, of course, led to coming up with some options for a Next Project, and starting those on their slow way through the system. Which has led to today: This morning, I officially signed the contract to write a new book.

The working title is A Brief History of Timekeeping, which long-time readers of my stuff might recognize as the title of a course I’ve offered a few times at Union, on the science and technology of keeping track of time passing. This is a really rich subject, and spans several millennia: the proposal has the subtitle “The Science of Marking Time, from Stonehenge to Atomic Clocks.” I was a little surprised, back when I started working on the class, to find that nobody had written a book on this topic. Particularly with that semi-joking title just sitting there. Anyway, I made a mental note of this as a thing to pursue down the road, and, well, here we are…

The focus of the book will be on the technology of keeping time, not the more abstract physics of time-as-a-component-of-spacetime. This will be mostly physics, because that’s my home field, but there are also some fascinating sidelines into history and culture thanks to all the different schemes people have devised through human history for marking time.

The contract is with BenBella Books, publishers of Breakfast with Einstein. They were very good to work with on that book, and both sides are pleased with how it’s done since it came out in December. So, I’m looking forward to working with them again, and as always at the start of a new book project, I have high hopes for it.

Due date for the manuscript is December 2020, publication roughly a year later. And you can expect a lot of odd tweets and blog posts about stuff relating to time and timekeeping over the next year-and-a-bit as writing this consumes most of my attention…