A Systematic Approach to Scientific Writing

By Matthew Brown

“Publish or perish.” It’s a phrase every researcher knows, and it captures the pressure we feel to turn experiments into papers. But writing isn’t just the last step, it’s a part of the scientific process. That was the central message of the iJOBS workshop: A Systematic Approach to Scientific Writing, which offered practical strategies for making writing less overwhelming and more purposeful. Over the course of the session, we explored why writing feels so hard, how to overcome the psychological barriers, and how to transform raw data into a compelling scientific story.

Why Writing Feels Hard and Why It Matters

Writing “well” takes time and energy, and it often feels intimidating. Many of us face the blank page with dread, wondering if we have anything worth saying. The workshop began by asking: Where do we learn scientific writing? Most of us pick it up through reading papers, getting feedback from PIs, and taking courses. Many scientists don’t see themselves as “writers,” assuming that writing is separate from the research itself. But in reality, writing is how we turn raw observations into understanding. Data never speaks for itself; we interpret, analyze, and give it meaning through words. Recognizing this, the workshop led by Ardon Schorr, PhD, and Deb Levy, PhD, reframed writing not as a final task, but as an essential part of the scientific process. While there are no fixed rules, one principle stands out: readers matter more than writers. Our job is to guide readers through our work so they understand what we intend to communicate. Readers interpret information based on where it appears in the text. Structure isn’t decoration, it’s instruction. Good writing communicates clearly, and clarity requires judgment.

The Psychology of Writing: Fear and Difficulty

Before diving into techniques, we confronted the emotional side of writing. Fear and difficulty often go hand in hand. Fear is real, but it shouldn’t paralyze us. When writing feels overwhelming, it’s often because of uncertainty, about scope, subject, social triggers, schedule, or self-doubt. We listed common thoughts: What if I have nothing to say? What if I’m wrong? These anxieties are normal, but they can derail progress.

The workshop encouraged us to identify where uncertainty shows up, in the body (restlessness, fatigue, tension) and in the mind (brain tangles, dread, feeling like facing an abyss). Then, respond systematically:

• Scope: Define your project’s boundaries by sketching the final product.
• Social triggers: Talk things through with a trusted friend.
• Schedule: Block out dedicated time for steady work.
• Self-doubt: Draft an evidence-based analysis to anchor your confidence.
• Need to research: Consult a librarian or other resources.
• Need to think: Draw a mind map or arrange post-its to clarify ideas.
• Body needs: Write after attending to self-care.

Writing isn’t just mental. It’s physical too. Hunger, fatigue, and dehydration amplify stress. Caring for your body is part of caring for your writing.

From Chaos to Clarity: Systematic vs. Stochastic Writing

Most scientists learn writing through trial and error: the “stochastic approach.” We write, get feedback, and try again. A systematic approach, by contrast, gives us principles and steps to follow. It starts with recognizing that writing is a process with distinct stages: prewriting, drafting, and revising. Each stage serves a different purpose, and separating them makes the task less overwhelming.

1. Prewriting is about planning: sketching outlines, organizing ideas, and clarifying goals.
2. Drafting is invention: getting words on the page without worrying about perfection.
3. Revision is where judgment comes in: shaping the text for clarity and coherence.

Mixing these stages creates frustration. Keeping them separate creates momentum.

Start Early, Think in Stories

One of the most practical tips was to start writing early, ideally when you start your research. Drafting figures at the beginning helps clarify your story and identify gaps. Figures aren’t just illustrations; they’re the backbone of your paper. From there, work backward: outline your narrative, identify target journals, and plan for revisions.

The workshop emphasized storytelling as a powerful tool for scientific writing. Every paper is a story: it begins with what’s known, introduces what’s unknown, and explains the obstacle your research addresses. Then comes your approach, results, and analysis, leading to what’s newly known.

Known → Unknown → Obstacle → Approach → Results → Newly known

Storytelling isn’t fluff. It’s structure. It helps readers follow your logic and see why your work matters.

What Makes an Abstract Work?

We also explored abstracts from a reader’s perspective. Readers scan abstracts to decide whether to read the full paper, so clarity and relevance are critical. A strong abstract conveys novelty, situates the work in the existing literature, and shows how it fills a gap. It’s not just a summary, it’s an invitation. The best abstracts share these common traits:

• Clear relevance
• Novelty
• Connection to other literature
• Method clarity
• Gap → fulfillment

Abstracts are small but mighty. They carry the weight of first impressions.

Core Principles of Writing Well

The workshop closed with guiding principles:

• Writing well is hard: don’t underestimate the time and energy it requires.
• Writing is doing science: data never speaks for itself.
• Readers matter more than writers: the reader is always right.
• Structure guides interpretation: give readers what they need, when they expect it.
• Writing is never good or bad in isolation: it’s always in context.
• There are no fixed rules: writing well requires judgment.

These principles remind us that writing isn’t mechanical. It’s a craft that balances clarity, context, and creativity.

My Reflections and Takeaways

As someone who often feels anxious about writing, this workshop was eye-opening. I realized that fear doesn’t mean failure. It means I care. Breaking writing into stages and starting early makes the process less intimidating. Thinking in stories turns data into meaning. And remembering that readers matter most keeps me focused on clarity.

For anyone staring at a blank page, here’s what I learned:

• Start with figures. They’re the skeleton of your story.
• Separate planning, drafting, and revising.
• Use mind maps and post-its to untangle ideas.
• Care for your body. Writing is physical.
• Embrace storytelling: goal, obstacle, approach, result, benefit.

Writing isn’t a chore. It’s a creative, iterative process that shapes how science moves forward. By starting early, embracing structure, and telling a clear story, we can turn writing from a source of anxiety into a tool for discovery.

The unofficial motto of academia may be “publish or perish,” but this workshop reminded me that publishing isn’t just survival; it’s communication. Writing well takes judgment, patience, and practice. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.

This article was edited by Junior Editor Joshua Stuckey and Senior Editor Joycelyn Radeny.