Being back feels incomparably comforting. Like putting on a generously worn sweater that has long since learned the shape of my shoulders, or seeing the amber glow of a lamp left on in the window, letting me know that someone anticipated my return.
A lot of life poured into those years. A pandemic. Identity shakeups. Unrest. Uncertainty. Not necessarily in that order. Then the long, unglamorous work of growing despite, and thanks to, all of it.
Meanwhile the industry, I’ve come to realize, has been experiencing its own hard-earned glow-up.
SLIDING DOORS. BOTH WAYS.
Because early 2021 evidently needed more plot twists, I was offered a different role within the company I worked for at the time. It was a tornado on top of a tornado. I was leaving a job I adored and thrived in for entirely uncharted waters. No map, not even a fading handwritten one.Customer Success is at my very core, so the waters, restless as they were, proved less uncharted than they looked. I still helped clients get real value – this time from end-to-end solutions for the pharmaceutical industry, spanning the full drug development cycle, from early research through clinical trials to regulatory submission and market entry. I built relationships. I supported my clients’ growth without neglecting my own.
Drug development and scholarly publishing, I discovered, share a common bloodline: evidence people can trust.
Both run on data, and on scrutiny that can’t afford to falter. Every handoff in these intricate processes is a chance to spot a problem. Or to miss one. The costliest fiascos are the quiet ones. The shortcomings nobody flagged early enough.
Selfishly, the coolest part of my role was witnessing what sits downstream of a published manuscript, and where I fit into the story. A clinical team assessing evidence that could shape patient care and that may once have passed through a submission site I’d built? Best. Feeling. Ever.
In retrospect, the decision to pivot was an ideal blend of foolishness and bravery. It was the most testing stretch of my working life, and there were days it cost me more than I like to admit. I upped my vigilance game, earned a few extra layers of skin and learned that some chapters show their full value only after they’ve closed.
So, when the door back to ScholarOne opened, I didn’t think twice. When a shiny Gateway opens for you, you walk in. (Pun more than intended.)
EYES WIDE OPEN
I like to think of my five years away from scholarly publishing (though not as far away as it once seemed) as an awakening interlude. ScholarOne, I’ve since learned, had quite the awakening of its own.When I left, research integrity had a seat at the table. Today, it is the table. Paper mills went industrial, faux reviewers multiplied, and networks of manufactured science spread across the board. Trust has never held more value, nor been more susceptible to falsification.
ScholarOne answered by building the checks into the workflow instead of around it. The Relay API brings in partners like Signals, Clear Skies and the STM Integrity Hub, ImageTwin detects image manipulation, and EditorialPilot flags concerns before peer review kicks off.
I’m not the only one who grew those extra layers of skin, and we all became a lot harder to bamboozle.
Generative AI also landed in the middle of my stint away and changed how everyone works. I came back to a role that requires a deep understanding of the AI tools before us, and the accountability to know where to draw the line. I appreciate everything it makes possible, and I value working in a space where my own voice, judgment, and authenticity still lead.
For ScholarOne, AI acts as a second pair of eyes, not the ultimate judge. It’s explored with publishers and editors in a controlled space like the AI Playground, with human accountability as a non-negotiable.
THE WAY WE WERE. AND ARE.
What hasn’t changed one smidge? The people.It took stepping into a world where calm was the exception to see it clearly: scholarly publishing is full of people who exude composure and warmth and who lead with poise and humanity, steady even when everything around them isn’t. It shouldn’t surprise me. This industry is built on some of the most enduring values our civilization has ever held.
My colleagues, many of whom I’ve known and admired for over a decade now, have shown me what boundless grace looks and feels like. What a joy it is to create and grow among them.
There’s plenty of newness, and undoubtedly more on the way. But the foundation isn’t going anywhere, and I find real solace in that.
You can go home again, turns out. Lessons, insight, baggage, and all.
Now I’m on the other side of the window, grateful that amber light was left burning for me, and ready to put every bit of what I brought back to work.