The blank page. You might think starting an article
would get easier with time or experience – but you’d be wrong. Even as a
seasoned writer and editor,
the thought of having to come up with something new awakens in me a
sudden urgent desire to do the dishes. Or clean my closets. Or organize
my files –really, anything, anything but write.
Nevertheless, in twelve years I’ve come up with a few tricks.
1. I pretend I'm talking to someone.
If someone asks you about your research, you’re not going to sit and stare at them for five silent seconds before opening up a solitaire game and seeing if you can beat your previous time, are you? No, you’re not. You’re going to just tell them what you’ve been working on. What you say might not be complete, or beautifully phrased, or it may lack that je ne sais quoi that we all hope will magically emerge when we sit down at the page – but it will be out there, outside of your head, and that’s the essential first step to writing anything.
2. Perfection is the enemy.
Just get it all down on the page. Once you’ve done that, it’s no longer a blank page, but a work-in-progress. It’s much easier to see where to fix a work-in-progress.
3. I start with the easy stuff.
Jot down a list of the materials you used and how you conducted your experiments. Write this down and viola! You’ve already got the basics of one section. Do the same for other major sections: assemble your figures and tables showing what you found. Summarize the major points: there’s the beginning of your results section. Then maybe analyze how your work compares to results other people have found, or what the significance of your results are, or caveats about your results: this is all material for the Discussion. Or write down some ideas about the context of your research. What other work has been done on this subject? What hasn’t been done? How is your paper filling in a missing piece of knowledge? That’s your introduction.
4. I assemble the puzzle.
I like to think of this stage as putting together a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. At first there's just a confusing jumble of pieces. Then you start to sort and classify: you separate the edge pieces from the rest. Maybe you build the frame – you get your abstract, your introduction, your methods, your results. Then you start to see groupings—there are a bunch of pieces with this weird purply-orange color, so you pile them together. Likewise, maybe you’re writing about a new way to process cyanide. You describe one of your results, and you think about how this result expands on that great paper by Smith et al. Of course, your process was a little different than Smith’s process – better get that in there. But maybe your process is more applicable to standard field conditions – write that down. Build your argument: why is this data important to publish now? Pretty soon, an overall picture is going to emerge.
5. I step back and focus.
Your paper at this point might be immense and sloppy – but it’s there. Now step back. Why are you doing this, again? What are you trying to say to the world? You need to get at the essence of your research: draw a one-inch box on the page. Inside this box, write a summary of your paper: what main point are you trying to get across? What’s your essential conclusion? What does the reader have to know – and what is not so important?
See? Here we are at the end, and you’re halfway to your paper.
Emily Wortman-Wunder teaches scientific communication at the University of Colorado Denver.
Nevertheless, in twelve years I’ve come up with a few tricks.
1. I pretend I'm talking to someone.
If someone asks you about your research, you’re not going to sit and stare at them for five silent seconds before opening up a solitaire game and seeing if you can beat your previous time, are you? No, you’re not. You’re going to just tell them what you’ve been working on. What you say might not be complete, or beautifully phrased, or it may lack that je ne sais quoi that we all hope will magically emerge when we sit down at the page – but it will be out there, outside of your head, and that’s the essential first step to writing anything.
2. Perfection is the enemy.
Just get it all down on the page. Once you’ve done that, it’s no longer a blank page, but a work-in-progress. It’s much easier to see where to fix a work-in-progress.
3. I start with the easy stuff.
Jot down a list of the materials you used and how you conducted your experiments. Write this down and viola! You’ve already got the basics of one section. Do the same for other major sections: assemble your figures and tables showing what you found. Summarize the major points: there’s the beginning of your results section. Then maybe analyze how your work compares to results other people have found, or what the significance of your results are, or caveats about your results: this is all material for the Discussion. Or write down some ideas about the context of your research. What other work has been done on this subject? What hasn’t been done? How is your paper filling in a missing piece of knowledge? That’s your introduction.
4. I assemble the puzzle.
I like to think of this stage as putting together a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. At first there's just a confusing jumble of pieces. Then you start to sort and classify: you separate the edge pieces from the rest. Maybe you build the frame – you get your abstract, your introduction, your methods, your results. Then you start to see groupings—there are a bunch of pieces with this weird purply-orange color, so you pile them together. Likewise, maybe you’re writing about a new way to process cyanide. You describe one of your results, and you think about how this result expands on that great paper by Smith et al. Of course, your process was a little different than Smith’s process – better get that in there. But maybe your process is more applicable to standard field conditions – write that down. Build your argument: why is this data important to publish now? Pretty soon, an overall picture is going to emerge.
5. I step back and focus.
Your paper at this point might be immense and sloppy – but it’s there. Now step back. Why are you doing this, again? What are you trying to say to the world? You need to get at the essence of your research: draw a one-inch box on the page. Inside this box, write a summary of your paper: what main point are you trying to get across? What’s your essential conclusion? What does the reader have to know – and what is not so important?
See? Here we are at the end, and you’re halfway to your paper.
Emily Wortman-Wunder teaches scientific communication at the University of Colorado Denver.
No comments:
Post a Comment