It's a tough time to be a scientist: universities are shuttering science departments, federal funding agencies are facing flat budgets, and many newspapers have dropped their science sections altogether. But according to Marc Kuchner, this antiscience climate doesn't have to equal a career death knell-it just means scientists have to be savvier about promoting their work and themselves. In Marketing for Scientists, he provides clear, detailed advice about how to land a good job, win funding, and shape the public debate.

As an astrophysicist at NASA, Kuchner knows that "marketing" can seem like a superficial distraction, whether your daily work is searching for new planets or seeking a cure for cancer. In fact, he argues, it's a critical component of the modern scientific endeavor, not only advancing personal careers but also society's knowledge.

Kuchner approaches marketing as a science in itself. He translates theories about human interaction and sense of self into methods for building relationships-one of the most critical skills in any profession. And he explains how to brand yourself effectively-how to get articles published, give compelling presentations, use social media like Facebook and Twitter, and impress potential employers and funders.

Like any good scientist, Kuchner bases his conclusions on years of study and experimentation. In Marketing for Scientists, he distills the strategies needed to keep pace in a Web 2.0 world.

The rules are simple enough: “Here’s the deal: Whoever keeps his hands longest on one of the dealer’s brand new pickup trucks owns it and gets to drive it away.” An actual contest hosted by an auto dealership in Texas is the prompt for this fictional exploration, which seeks to probe the depths and shallows of the American soul.

To the players vying for this shiny new prize, competition revs up as the hours wear on, positions harden, sightlines narrow, and sleep-deprivation intensifies. At the center is the reporter Trew Reade, struggling to make sense of the event and his own role in it. Early on, he muses that “surface and substance were rarely the same; transparency could be the most cunning of masks.” So, too, is the author’s transparent prose. Reviewers have sometimes found Mojtabai’s vision akin to that of Marilynne Robinson and Flannery O’Connor, but the characterization from Books & Culture—“not like anyone else”—is perhaps best, inviting readers to discover this provocative writer for themselves.