Stress Versus Time Management

In academia, time management is often touted as the key to productivity, but what happens when time isn't the real issue? What if you’re organised, have planned your day, and still feel overwhelmed? The problem might not be your time; it could be your exposure to stress.

In today’s post, we’ll explore how stress and workload management intersect and why expanding your mental capacity can actually do more for your productivity than simply managing your time. Let’s look at the key factors affecting your ability to focus and write, and how to maximise your mental bandwidth for deep work.

Time Management AS THE SOLE SOLUTION

When we discuss academic workload management, we often think about the systems universities put in place to allocate time for tasks. Most universities, particularly in the UK, have workload allocation systems that attempt to compute how much time should be spent on specific tasks. However, these systems rarely reflect the reality of academic work, for example, you might be allocated just one hour to prepare a lecture. We all know that preparing a lecture properly takes much longer and longer still if you never studied or taught that topic before. These systems are (on purpose) unrealistic, and while they may serve as management tools, they don’t reflect how much time is genuinely required to perform tasks effectively.

Time Versus Capacity: Why Stress Affects Your Writing

Even if you have all your time organised and planned, you might still struggle to make progress with your writing. If that’s the case, time isn’t your problem, it’s your capacity. I often discuss capacity in my coaching because it’s critical for deep work. Capacity is your ability to bring your physical, emotional, and intellectual self to the task at hand. When stress levels rise, capacity shrinks.

If you’re stressed, you simply won’t be able to focus deeply on your work. Whether it’s anxiety about deadlines, uncertainty in your role, or conflict with colleagues, these stressors can prevent you from engaging fully with the task. No amount of time management will solve this problem unless you address the stress that’s diminishing your mental real estate.

Identifying Your Stress Triggers

Not all stress is the same, and each person reacts differently to work pressures. To understand what’s draining your capacity, you need to perform a stress audit. Take some time to reflect on what causes you the most stress at work.

Cal Newport, in his podcast, categorises four main types of stress at work:

1. Time Stress: Having more tasks than time to complete them.

2. Expectation Stress: Feeling the pressure to deliver high-quality outcomes, whether real or perceived.

3. Uncertainty and Risk: Stress from not knowing the next steps or worrying about potential negative outcomes.

4. Conflict: Stress arising from toxic work environments, toxic colleagues, or conflicting expectations.

In addition, I’d add a fifth stress factor:

1. Control: Stress caused by a lack of agency in how you execute your tasks. Not having control over how things are done can cause significant stress, particularly in a highly structured environment like academia.

The Myth of "Task Overload"

One common misconception is that if you simply had fewer tasks to do, your stress would subside, and writing would become easier. But in my experience, this is rarely the case. Often, when someone claims they’re overwhelmed with tasks, it’s not the number of tasks that’s the problem, but rather how those tasks are structured or perceived. For example, I’ve worked with academics who were given a heavy workload, but they were only truly stressed because they lacked control over their work or had conflicting expectations placed on them. Reducing the number of tasks didn’t address the root causes of their stress.

If you’re experiencing burnout or stress, it’s not always about how many tasks you’re doing—it’s about what is stressing you out and how those stressors impact your capacity to work.

Understanding Your Stressors: A Personal Reflection

Take a moment to reflect on what truly stresses you out in the workplace. Is it the sheer volume of tasks, or is it the lack of control over your work, or what you think of as unfair or insensible decisions being taken around you? Is it uncertainty about your role, or is it the expectation stress of needing to deliver outputs to a very high standard? Identifying your specific stress triggers is the first step in managing them.

I know that my stressor isn’t conflict. I don’t mind difficult conversations. What really reduces my capacity is lack of control over my work. If I’m working with someone who is chaotic and disorganised, like a colleague who frequently changes plans last minute, I find it incredibly draining. It’s not the workload itself but the chaos that I have to deal with, which undermines my ability to focus on writing.

Managing Stress, Not Just Tasks

In the case of chaotic colleagues or unclear roles, consider how you can bargain or set boundaries to avoid these stressors. Take control where you can, and protect your mental space to allow for deep work. If you’re overwhelmed with an ill-defined role or unclear tasks, it’s crucial to seek clarity or get out of these kinds of roles. Addressing these uncertainties can significantly reduce the mental load, freeing up your capacity for more focused writing and academic work.

High Capacity, High Productivity

The goal here is to increase your mental capacity. Once you’ve removed the capacity-draining elements from your life, whether it’s chaotic work environments, unrealistic expectations, or lack of control, you’ll find that you can accomplish more in less time. Writing becomes easier when your mind is clear, your focus is sharp, and your stress is managed.

Conclusion: Manage Stress, Not Just Time

Time awareness is essential, but it’s not the only factor that determines your productivity. Managing your personal stress triggers and protecting your capacity to work deeply are equally important.

Take some time to reflect on your stressors today. What’s draining your capacity, and how can you create space to focus on your writing without distractions?

How To Improve Writing Through Deliberate Practice

Improving your academic writing is not about simply waiting for inspiration to strike. It’s about engaging in deliberate practice—a focused, structured approach to honing your skills over time. In today’s blog, we’ll discuss how you can apply the principles of deliberate practice to your writing, drawing inspiration from Dr. Angela Duckworth’s book Grit. The key to improving your writing isn’t talent; it’s about putting in the effort, consistently and purposefully, day after day.

What Is Deliberate Practice?

Deliberate practice is a concept that comes from the field of psychology, and it revolves around improving skills through focused, targeted effort. Dr. Duckworth, in Grit, outlines several core elements of deliberate practice that can be directly applied to writing. These include setting clear goals, concentrating fully on the task, seeking feedback, engaging in repetitive practice, and putting in sustained effort over time.

1. Set Clear Goals for Each Writing Session

One of the first steps in deliberate practice is to ensure that you have a specific, defined goal for each writing session. This is more than just sitting down to "work on your article"—it’s about defining exactly what you aim to achieve during that time.

For example, are you refining your argument? What does this mean in concrete terms? Is it time to edit a specific section of your paper? Then define exactly what editing technique you will be applying to what section of the paper. Or maybe you need to work on your data analysis? Exactly what does this entail? Without a clear target, you risk wasting time on vague, unfocused tasks that don’t contribute to progress.

When you set a clear goal for each session, you’ll have a sense of accomplishment when you finish, making it easier to track your progress and build momentum, adn invite the dopamine feedback loop that makes doing difficult things easier to tolerate.

2. Bring Your Full Focus to the Task

Deliberate practice demands focus. That means no multitasking, no email checking, and no distractions. If you’re serious about improving your writing, you need to give it your full attention. This is especially important for academic writing, where deep thinking and concentration are required. Aim for shorter, focused bursts of work—perhaps 40 to 45 minutes of concentration, followed by a short break. This will help you sustain your mental energy while avoiding burnout. It’s far more effective than trying to write for hours on end while distracted and then feeling exhausted, without progress, because this then becomes what you think writing is and how it feels.

3. Seek Feedback on Your Work

Feedback is one of the most important elements of deliberate practice. But it’s not just about receiving feedback from others—it’s also about evaluating your own work. At the end of each writing session, take a few minutes to assess what you accomplished. Did you meet your goal? Was the quality of your work up to standard? This helps you refine your process and set more realistic goals for the future.

Of course, you also need external feedback from colleagues, mentors, or writing coaches. Getting feedback on your work as you go along allows you to catch issues early, refine your ideas, and improve the clarity of your idea, argument and exposition.

4. Engage in Repetitive Practice

Just like learning a musical instrument, writing requires repetition. You can’t expect to become a great writer after just one or two sessions. Successful academic writers know that practice is key, and they engage in repetitive practice every day. This doesn’t mean writing aimlessly for hours on end. Quality, purposeful writing sessions, combined with regular reviews and feedback, will lead to improvement over time. Aim for consistency over quantity. Writing a little bit every day, rather than a huge amount in a single session, ensures that you develop a sustainable writing habit.

5. Sustained Effort Over Time

Improving your writing is a long-term commitment. It’s about gradual progress, not overnight success. As with any skill, you get better with time. The key is to stay consistent, even when progress feels slow. With deliberate practice, your writing will improve steadily, and you’ll begin to see the results of your hard work.

Conclusion: The Power of Deliberate Practice

Improving your writing through deliberate practice is not a quick fix—it’s a long-term strategy. By setting clear goals, focusing fully on the task at hand, seeking feedback, engaging in repetitive practice, and committing to sustained effort, you’ll see continuous improvement in your writing.

Remember, writing is a skill, not a gift. With enough practice and training, you can become a great writer. So next time you sit down to write, set a clear goal, focus entirely on your task, and commit to improving one small step at a time. Your future self will thank you.

The key to better writing is deliberate practice. Focus, feedback, and consistency will help you reach your writing goals, one step at a time.

What Academic Success Means To You

When we think about academic success, the first thing that often comes to mind is titles—becoming a professor, a dean, or climbing the academic administrative ladder. But is that the only way to define success? In reality, most academics do not want these positions. In fact, many of us are seeking a career that allows us to thrive intellectually in our research disciplines, to bring ideas into the world, without burnout, stress, or anxiety.

In this blog, I want to explore what academic success really means. It’s not just about titles or promotions—it’s about creating a career that supports your values, priorities, and well-being. And this all starts with defining success for yourself.

The Toxic Idea of "Working All the Time"

For many, academic success is often tied to the idea of working non-stop. When I entered academia, I was bombarded with messages that suggested I should be working 24/7. Senior academics told me that I had to work weekends, forego holidays, and always be on the clock to truly succeed. This toxic messaging was not only unrealistic, but it also made me feel as if I was failing unless I adhered to that relentless work schedule.

I quickly rejected that idea. Work is sort of important - in that it gives you money to have a life - but it is just one aspect of a much bigger picture of what brings me happiness. For me, a successful academic career is about having balance—being able to perform well in my career without it consuming my entire life. I refused to believe that academic success had to come at the expense of my personal well-being.

To achieve this, I knew I had to be efficient because higher education is a maelstrom of busyness and pseudo productivity. I needed systems and processes that allowed me to get my work done during office hours so that I could protect my evenings and weekends for rest and personal time. That was my version of success: achieving great things in my academic career while still having time to live my life.

What about money?

For many, career success in academia often comes with financial incentives. For me, this was no different. I didn’t need to reach the top academic salary level or become a professor to feel successful. What I needed was enough money to live comfortably—to pay my bills, and enjoy life outside of work. The drive for financial security was important, but the pursuit of titles didn’t hold the same weight. In academia, especially today, the financial gap between positions like senior lecturer and professor has shrunk considerably. This change means that focusing on climbing the career ladder purely for financial gain is no longer as motivating as it once was.

The Importance of Control

Another critical aspect of success is having control over your schedule. Academic work can often feel like a never-ending list of tasks—emails, meetings, grading, writing, research. One of the keys to my success was recognising that I could never do everything that was asked of me. I could though manage my workload in a way that felt reasonable. Having control over my calendar allowed me to decide what I would focus on and what I would ignore or say "no" to. This ability to create boundaries and prioritise my tasks ensured that I didn’t get overwhelmed or stressed out. Success, for me, meant having the power to choose how I spent my time, even within a demanding academic environment.

Defining Your Own Success

So, how do you define success in your academic career? It’s important to ask yourself: What does success look like for me? Is it about becoming a professor, or is it about finding a balance between work and life? Is it about producing meaningful research, or about having time for personal growth and well-being?

Once you’ve defined your own version of success, it’s important to situate that ambition within the reality of your academic environment. You need to have a clear understanding of academia as it is—not as you wish it to be. It’s crucial to accept the challenges and constraints of the system, and work within those limits to create a career that meets your goals.

Three Key Characteristics of Successful Academics

Successful academics exhibit three key behaviours:

1. They write first. Successful academics prioritise writing, especially in the mornings. Writing is the most important task of their day, and they ensure it’s done before opening emails or attending meetings.

2. They have strong boundaries. Academics who succeed on their own terms know when to say no. They set clear boundaries around their time and workload, protecting their focus and energy for their most important tasks.

3. They manage their workload effectively. Successful academics don’t feel overwhelmed because they’ve developed systems that allow them to handle the demands of academia. They know how to navigate the workload without burning out, because they understand that they can’t do everything.

The Reality of Success Without a Prestigious Mentor

Some academics benefit from having prestigious mentors or networks that help grease the wheels of their career progression. While these connections can certainly make things easier, they are not a prerequisite for success. You can still build a successful academic career on your own terms, even without those connections.

In fact, many of the most successful academics I know didn’t have those advantages. They didn’t come from families with academic backgrounds, and they didn’t have high-profile mentors. But they were committed, resourceful, and strategic in how they navigated their careers. They created success based on their own values and goals, not on the expectations of others.

Conclusion: Academic Success on Your Terms

Ultimately, academic success is about defining what success means to you, and then making conscious decisions to build a career that aligns with your values. It’s about understanding that success doesn’t always look like climbing to the top of the academic ladder. Instead, it’s about thriving in your career without burnout, managing your workload, and creating space for the things that matter to you outside of academia. Remember, success is not a one-size-fits-all concept. It’s a personal journey, and it’s up to you to decide what it looks like. Once you have that clarity, you can take the necessary steps to make your version of success a reality. And don’t forget—situating your ambitions within the reality of the academic system is crucial for achieving long-term success.

If you are interested in building a career with global authority, then you might be interested in my Private Career Mentorship Programme, Elevate.

How to Write a Monograph Quickly

Writing a monograph is one of the most career-defining and yet challenging tasks an academic can undertake. While it’s an essential achievement for those in the social sciences and humanities, many scholars struggle with this genre of writing, often finding themselves stalled for years before completing their work, or struggling with the dreaded second book. The difference between successful, quick monograph completion and years of stagnation often comes down to having the right technique and mindset. Below, I’ll share six essential steps to help you write your monograph effectively, avoiding the common pitfalls that lead to "book rot" and endemic procrastination.

Step 1: Establish Your "Why"

Before you start writing, you need to clarify the reason you’re writing this book. This isn't about motivation in the usual sense—it's about understanding the deeper purpose of your monograph. Why is it important to the conversation in your field?

This "why" will help keep you focused, ensuring that your monograph is aligned with your academic and professional goals. It’s critical to understand what this book will contribute to your discipline, and how it will help establish your authority and credibility in the field. This is not about personal inspiration, but rather understanding the long-term impact your work will have on the academic community.

Step 2: Develop a Book-Writing Mindset

Writing a monograph is different from writing journal articles or reports. The length and depth of a book require a unique mindset. It’s a long-term project that requires persistence and focus and unlike shorter forms of writing, such as journal articles or reports, a monograph requires sustained effort over a long period. Having the right writing skills, tools techniques, buttressed by the right mindset means committing to the book process and understanding that this is a long haul. You will need to be disciplined and strategic in how you spend your time and energy. The challenge is not just in writing, but in maintaining momentum.

Step 3: Routine and Consistency

A successful monograph requires a solid writing routine. As any successful academic writer will tell you, process is key. Your writing habit should be well-established, and the routine you develop for your monograph needs to be robust enough to withstand competing obligations like teaching and administration, and even other publications, because you don’t want to be in the publication desert whilst creating the book manuscript.

Your routine must be adaptable to the demands of writing a large project, but it should remain non-negotiable. Set aside time every day, or at least several times a week if you are writing other things simultaneously, to work on your monograph. This consistent effort will ensure steady progress and prevent burnout.

Step 4: Ideation—Think Before You Write

A major issue with many monograph drafts is that the author starts writing too early. Often, they haven’t fully developed the idea in their mind before they begin drafting. This is where the biggest mistakes happen—starting to write before you’ve thoroughly thought through the structure and purpose of the book.

To avoid this, invest time in ideation. You should have at least 80% of your research completed before you begin writing. Once you have that research in place, you can begin ideating, ensuring that the direction of your monograph is clear. The more you can clarify your ideas before you write, the smoother the drafting process will be. Without this stage, you’ll end up rewriting and revising endlessly, and your monograph may never see completion. Empirical researchers are often guilty of this especially as they may be held up gathering data and want to get on with the writing in the meantime. If you don’t know where you are headed, you are expending alot of energy on writing that might not actually match the data.

Step 5: Master Writing Techniques

Once you’ve done the ideation and research, the next step is mastering the drafting process. Writing a monograph involves a specific technique—one that allows you to work through drafts without getting bogged down by perfectionism. The key is to accept that no chapter will be perfect on the first draft. Instead of getting stuck on a single chapter, move forward and continue writing, knowing that you must cycle through the chapters several times to make sure they connect with each other.

This technique will allow you to keep making progress on the book as a whole, rather than endlessly reworking the same single chapter. The goal is to get words on paper and improve them over time, rather than getting trapped in the cycle of perfectionism.

Step 6: Editing and Refining Your Work

After drafting, it’s time for editing. A good monograph requires more than just writing—it requires the skill of an excellent editor. Editing should be a systematic process, not just about correcting grammar or punctuation. It’s about refining the ideas, making sure that the narrative flows logically, and ensuring that each chapter aligns with the overall argument. Without solid editing skills, your monograph may feel incoherent or incomplete to readers.

The Importance of the Book Proposal

Before you start writing, I strongly recommend that you complete a book proposal. Many academics delay this step, thinking it’s only necessary for securing a publisher. However, the real value of the book proposal is that it forces you to nail down your ideas, clarify the structure of your book, and think about the audience you are writing for.

Writing the proposal gives you a clear framework for the monograph, which will help keep you on track as you write. Don’t wait until you have several chapters ready—start your book proposal early, even before you begin writing. This process will help you focus your research and define your objectives clearly.

Conclusion: Stay Committed to the Process

Writing a monograph is a significant undertaking, but it doesn’t have to take years to complete. By following these six steps—understanding your "why," developing the right mindset, creating a consistent routine, ideating before you start writing, mastering your drafting techniques, and refining through editing—you can finish your monograph in less time than you think.

If you’re struggling to get started or need support throughout the process, consider working with a coach or joining a writing programme. The key is to stay committed to the process and focus on incremental progress. With the right approach, you can complete your monograph in under 12 months and establish yourself as a leading authority in your field.

For more tips on writing your monograph, consider checking out my coaching programme, "Mastering the Monograph," where I guide you through the entire process.

4 Things Successful Academic Writers Do (Pt 4): Constant Improvement of Writing Skills

Welcome to the final part of our four-part series on the traits that define successful, sustainable academic writers. In previous episodes, we’ve covered how these writers manage their time, build a strong writer’s identity, and make writing their first priority. Today, we’ll focus on the fourth and final characteristic: the constant improvement of writing skills.

Writing is a journey, not a destination. Even the most accomplished writers continue to refine their craft, seeking new ways to improve, and this pursuit of improvement is a hallmark of great academic writers. It’s what keeps them engaged, productive, and at the top of their game throughout their careers.

Writing Is a Constant Endeavour

Successful academic writers never stop working on their craft. They recognise that no matter how skilled they are, there’s always room for growth. Writing isn’t something that’s mastered and then forgotten. It’s a practice that requires consistent attention and a willingness to improve. Even senior academics, who have published extensively and are experts in their field, continue to work on enhancing their writing skills. This constant improvement is essential to keeping their work relevant and impactful. The best writers invest time—and money—into refining their writing techniques, ensuring that every piece they write is an opportunity to grow.

Technical Skill Development

One of the main ways successful writers improve is by honing their technical writing skills. This means paying attention to the details of writing—sentence structure, turn of phrase, and how ideas are communicated. Great academic writers spend time reflecting on the execution of their writing, always asking: "How well did I communicate the ideas I had in my head?"

They may seek out writing coaches, read books on writing, or imitate the styles of writers they admire. But regardless of the method, they’re always striving to improve how they convey their ideas. Writing isn’t just about putting words on paper; it’s about conveying complex thoughts clearly and effectively. Successful academic writers never stop striving to get better at this.

Managing Your Academic Career to Create Space for Writing

To truly improve your writing, you need to ensure that your career supports it. Writing doesn’t happen in isolation; it requires an environment that fosters focus and creativity. Successful writers strategically manage their careers to create time and space for writing.

This might mean carefully choosing the projects they take on or working with mentors to help guide their career choices. For example, they may select projects that push their writing boundaries, such as writing in different genres regularly, moving from journal articles to public consultation papers, to grants, to monographs, which require different skill sets. By engaging in diverse writing genres, they continue to develop their writing technique. Each new type of writing—whether it’s a blog post, a policy document, or a book—forces them to refine their approach and deepen their skills.

Improving Thinking and Ideation

Great writing starts with great thinking. If you don’t take the time to properly ideate and plan your work, the writing process will be much more difficult. Writers who are committed to improvement spend time at the beginning of a project thinking deeply about their ideas. The clearer they are about what they want to say, the easier it will be to write effectively.

Poor ideation often leads to overcomplicated writing, where ideas are not fully formed, and sentences feel forced. On the other hand, clear thinking at the start of the writing process leads to sharper, more concise writing. When the ideas are well developed, the execution of the writing becomes much easier, and less time is spent rewriting and editing.

Collaboration and Learning from Others

Another way to improve writing skills is through collaboration. Writing doesn’t have to be a solitary activity. In fact, collaborating with others can significantly enhance your writing by exposing you to new perspectives and techniques. Collaborations give you the chance to see how others approach writing, and you can learn from their strategies, sentence structures, and the way they express ideas. The key to benefiting from collaboration is internalising the lessons learned. Successful writers don’t just rely on their collaborators for one-off projects; they take these lessons to heart and apply them to their own writing. By reflecting on the strengths of others, they continue to evolve their own style and approach.

The Power of Reading: Expanding Your Language and Technique

To become a better writer, you must be a voracious reader. Successful academic writers read widely, not only academic work but also fiction, non-fiction, and books about writing. Reading is crucial because it exposes you to a wide range of writing styles, vocabularies, and techniques. The act of reading deeply exercises your brain’s ability to concentrate and focus, which in turn makes the writing process easier. But perhaps more importantly, reading introduces new ways to express ideas, which expands your vocabulary and sharpens your writing technique. Whether you’re reading academic papers, novels, or even popular media, the exposure to language helps you develop the skills needed to write more effectively.

As you read, you’ll begin to identify patterns in writing that you want to emulate—clear structures, concise sentences, or creative ways of conveying complex ideas. By studying these techniques, you can incorporate them into your own work, improving both the quality and the clarity of your writing.

Continuously Refining Your Technique

As you progress in your academic career, your ideas will become more complex and that requires even greater writing skills to communicate them clearly. You’ll be tackling bigger ideas, working with more literature, and crossing disciplines. The ability to communicate increasingly sophisticated ideas requires a more advanced writing technique, hence the work on constant improvement. It is common that as we advance in our career we suddenly find writing ‘harder’ and that is because the ideas we are working with are also harder to deliver.

Conclusion: The Never-Ending Journey of Improvement

The key takeaway from this episode is that writing is a practice. Even the most successful academic writers understand that their craft is always evolving. They invest time and effort into improving their writing skills, whether that’s through technical up-skilling, strategic career management, collaboration, or simply reading more.

Improving your writing isn’t a one-time effort—it’s a continuous journey that will last throughout your academic career. By committing to constant improvement, you ensure that your writing remains strong, effective, and impactful. And as you develop your writing technique, you’ll find that it becomes easier to communicate complex ideas and advance your academic career.

4 Things Successful Academic Writers Do (Pt 3): Writing First

Welcome to part three of our series on the characteristics of successful, sustainable academic writers. In the previous episodes, we covered the importance of time management and developing a writer’s identity. Today, we’re tackling the third key trait: writing first.

This idea is simple yet transformative, but, as with most things in life, there are plenty of excuses and counterarguments about why it isn’t feasible. I’ve heard them all: "I’m not a morning person," "I have too many commitments," "I need to check my email first," or "I can’t write until I’ve sorted my life out." In today’s post, we’ll address these objections and discuss why writing first thing is essential for a successful academic career.

The Common Objections: Why People Avoid Writing First

When I encourage my clients to write first thing, I often hear reasons why they can't—or shouldn't—follow this advice. One common excuse is, "I have kids to look after in the morning," or "I’m a night owl, so I can't focus until late in the day." While I understand that people's schedules and preferences differ, I want to challenge the idea that writing can't be your first priority.

Writing first doesn’t mean you have to roll out of bed and immediately start typing away. It doesn’t even mean you have to write first thing after you wake up. What it does mean is that, as soon as you start your working day, writing should be the first task you tackle. If you have a family to care for or other morning responsibilities, that’s fine—just make sure that, once those are done, your first task is writing. I know that is not what you WANT to do - instead you want to open your email, and that is why you have a writing problem.

One of the most common excuses I hear is that people feel the need to "ease into work" with tasks that don’t require as much mental energy. Things like checking emails or preparing for meetings seem like low-effort tasks compared to writing. But that’s exactly why writing first is so important. Writing requires bandwidth and focus—qualities that are easiest to access before the day’s distractions creep in.

Writing is Not the ‘Difficult’ Task

There’s a famous productivity principle called "Eat the Frog," which suggests doing the most difficult task first. Some people think writing is difficult, and that’s why they delay it. But I want to challenge that assumption. Writing doesn’t have to be difficult—it just requires focus, a good writing process and really knowing what you are doing each day, coming to the table with all the tools. We think it is hard because we turn out with none of those things, and hope for the best. We push it aside in favour of other tasks that are easier to deal with in the short term.

The Real Problem: Procrastination and the "Not in the Mood" Trap

Another common objection I hear is, "I don’t feel like writing first thing in the morning." The truth is, these feelings are just procrastination in disguise. Accomplished writers don’t wait for feelings. They take action, and the feelings follow. When we say "I don’t feel like it," what we’re really saying is "I’m not willing to do the difficult work." But writing, like all aspects of academic work, is not about waiting for the perfect moment or for inspiration to strike. It’s about showing up and doing the work consistently, regardless of how we feel.

It’s important to recognise that we’re not always going to "feel like" writing. The key to overcoming this is to commit to the task and do it anyway. If you only write when you’re in the mood, you’ll never build a sustainable writing practice. But if you make writing the first task of your day, you eliminate the need for motivation. You just get started, and the words flow.

How to Create a Non-Negotiable Writing Routine

Writing first should be a non-negotiable part of your day. In the same way that you schedule your classes or meetings, you need to schedule your writing time. And just like you don’t cancel meetings or ignore your teaching obligations, you shouldn’t allow yourself to skip your writing session. If you’re someone who struggles with keeping writing time consistent, I recommend blocking out a specific time each morning for writing—say, from 9 to 11 AM. This time should be protected, meaning no meetings, no checking emails, no social media distractions. During this time, your sole focus should be on writing—whether that’s drafting, editing, note-taking, or doing research.

At first, this might feel like dragging a sack of rocks up a hill. But with consistency, it will become a habit, and writing will feel like an integral part of your routine. And remember, you don’t need to do this all on your own. Having a support system in place—whether that’s a coach, accountability partner, or structured writing sessions—can make a world of difference.

Tackling the "Meeting in the Morning" Myth

One of the most common things I hear from academics is that they teaching scheduled first thing in the morning, which they can’t avoid. I understand that there are things outside your control, and you can schedule your writing after this, giving yourself a 15-20 minute cool down period between but you must not open your email. Sit there and stare at the wall, I don’t care. Email is a productivity killer and will derail your focus.

Writing as a Professional Commitment

If you truly want to be a successful academic writer, you need to treat writing as part of your professional identity. Just as you wouldn’t schedule a meeting during your teaching hours, you shouldn’t allow writing to be sidelined by other tasks. Writing first is the behaviour of a professional academic writer—someone who shows up every day, ready to write, and gets the job done. As you start to make writing first part of your daily routine, you’ll find that it becomes easier to stick with it. That reinforces the writing identity and it all works together to create an environment where writing gets prioritised. The key is consistency. If you make the commitment to write every day, and you follow through with it, you’ll soon develop the habit of prioritising writing in your workday. This is the secret to writing success.

In the next episode, we’ll cover the fourth and final trait of successful academic writers: the commitment to improving your writing skills continuously. But for now, I challenge you to take the next two weeks and make writing your first task of the day. Protect this time and commit to it. You’ll be amazed at how much more productive and focused you become, and how much easier it is to sustain a successful writing practice.

Let me know how it goes—I’d love to hear about your experiences as you make writing first a non-negotiable part of your daily routine!

4 Things Successful Academic Writers Do Pt 2: Writer Identity

Welcome back to part two of our series, where we’re exploring the essential traits of successful and sustainable academic writers. If you missed part one, we discussed the importance of time control in academic writing, particularly through the practice of time tracking. Today, we're diving into the second characteristic that sets successful academic writers apart: developing a writer’s identity.

In today’s blog I’ll explore what it means to have a writer’s identity and how it influences not only your productivity but also your long-term success as an academic writer.

What is a Writer’s Identity?

At the core of becoming a successful academic writer is the ability to identify yourself as one. This might sound simple, but it’s more profound than you might think. The way you define your role as an academic—whether you see yourself as a researcher, a writer, or even just a teacher—has a direct impact on how much time and energy you allocate to writing.

When I work with my coaching clients, I often explore the question: how do you describe yourself, both to yourself and to others? When meeting new people or networking, do you introduce yourself as an academic, a professor, or a researcher? Or do you lean more towards titles that focus on teaching or administrative duties? How you label yourself informs your approach to writing.

For instance, if you see yourself as a researcher or intellectual, writing naturally becomes part of your identity. It’s central to your role and, therefore, something you make time for. But if you define yourself primarily as a teacher or someone more involved in the bureaucracy of the institution, writing may not feel as vital. In fact, it can feel like an afterthought—something you only do when time permits.

Why Identity Matters in Academic Writing

The importance of a writer’s identity cannot be overstated. When your identity is rooted in writing, you naturally prioritise it. But if your academic identity is detached from writing, it becomes much easier to push it aside in favour of other tasks, such as teaching or administrative duties. This is where many academic writers fall short—they may not see writing as central to their career or even as something they are paid to do. For example, someone on a teaching and research (T&R) contract might fail to see themselves as a professional writer, despite writing being a crucial part of their job description. In this case, writing becomes relegated to something they do in their spare time, rather than as a core responsibility of their academic role.

This disconnect can be exacerbated by the institutional environment. Many academic institutions appear to reward service-oriented tasks like answering emails or attending meetings, but these activities do little to support your career as an academic. It’s writing, not service work, is what gets rewarded in academia.

Building and Nurturing Your Writer’s Identity

Creating a strong writer’s identity is about integrating writing into the fabric of your career and how you think about yourself. But how do you build and nurture this identity? The first step is examining your current environment—your personal academic ecosystem. Are the things around you supporting your writer identity, or are they draining it? For example, teaching responsibilities that align with your research can feed your writing identity. Collaborations that spark new ideas and research opportunities can also support it. Likewise, mentoring or coaching can provide valuable time to reflect on writing and refine your skills.

On the other hand, an ecosystem that starves your writing identity might include excessive service roles, which tend to be meeting-heavy and consume time better spent on writing. Teaching overload, especially when it’s unrelated to your research, can also starve your writer identity. And let’s not forget the "overhead tax"—the administrative work that comes with grants and projects. If 90% of your time on a project is spent managing logistics rather than doing actual research or writing, it’s time to reassess how that project fits into your academic career.

The Professional vs. Hobbyist Writer

In my work with clients, I’ve observed a stark contrast between those who see themselves as professional writers and those who approach writing as a hobby. This distinction can be a hard pill to swallow, but it’s an important one. Professional writers view writing as a non-negotiable part of their job. They schedule time for it every week, and they approach it with purpose and intention. In contrast, hobbyist writers wait for inspiration or write only when there’s time left over. They treat writing as optional, and often the quality of their work reflects that.

Here are a few key differences between a professional and a hobbyist academic writer:

• The professional writer schedules writing as non-negotiable, while the hobbyist waits for inspiration or fits it in when time appears.

• The professional writer sees writing as central to their job, while the hobbyist sees it as optional or a side activity.

• The professional writer builds systems for accountability and structures for success, while the hobbyist works in isolation and secrecy.

It’s important to ask yourself: are you treating writing as an integral part of your career, or are you allowing it to take a backseat to other tasks? If you’re honest with yourself and find that you have more hobbyist traits, don’t worry—you’re not alone. Many academics face this challenge, and the good news is that it can be changed.

The Path Forward: Developing a Writer’s Identity

To develop a strong writer’s identity, you need to schedule your writing time and treat it as non-negotiable. Build systems and support structures to help you stay accountable. And most importantly, view writing as the central part of your academic career, not as an afterthought. You need to do deep mindset work, usually with a coach or mentor to re-wire your thinking, because it is quite difficult to change entrenched thought patterns alone.

The more you commit to your writer’s identity, the easier it will be to prioritise writing and develop a sustainable writing practice. And once writing becomes a core part of who you are, you’ll find that it’s no longer a struggle to make time for it - the habit builds itself. Eating cake is a core part of my identity, and I have zero trouble finding time to do it. Writing will become a natural and essential part of your day - just like cake.

In the next part of this series, we’ll discuss the third characteristic of successful academic writers: the importance of writing first.

4 Things Successful Academic Writers Do Pt 1: The Power of Time Control

Today I want to talk about one of the four essential traits that separate sustainable, successful writers from the rest: the ability to control their time. Over my six years of coaching academics across various disciplines and all over the globe, I've observed that the most effective writers share four common practices and I will devote 4 blogs to each of these in turn. In this blog, I'll delve into the first of these practices—time management, focusing specifically on the art of time tracking.

Why Time Tracking is So Crucial (And Why No One Wants to Do It)

Time tracking is a tool that is often overlooked by many academics, but it is the cornerstone of intentional writing. Why? Because it forces you to confront reality. Without data, we can easily fall into the trap of making excuses or rationalising distractions. "I just didn’t have the time," becomes a common refrain. But once you start tracking your time, you’re no longer able to hide behind these excuses.

This uncomfortable truth is why so many writers resist time tracking. We love the stories we tell ourselves about being "too busy" or "constantly pulled in different directions." But these stories are just that—stories. Time tracking strips away the comfort of these narratives, revealing the cold, hard facts about how we are actually spending our time.

I encourage you to try time tracking for just two weeks. It doesn’t have to be a lifelong commitment but the longer you do it the more you reap the benefits. The goal is to collect data, to see how much of your time is truly dedicated to writing. The results might be uncomfortable, but they will give you the clarity you need to make intentional changes. By seeing where your time is going, you’ll be able to make more informed decisions about where your focus should be.

The Power of Intentionality and Focus

One of the key benefits of time tracking is that it fosters intentionality. When you can see exactly how much time you’ve spent on emails, meetings, or other tasks, you’ll be forced to make tough decisions and if you don’t, you’ll be admitting you don’t want to write or prioritise writing. Do you want to continue spending hours responding to emails when your primary goal is writing? Is that why you got that PhD? Time tracking puts your actions into perspective, helping you prioritise writing and other essential tasks.

Another significant shift that time tracking brings is a renewed ability to focus. When you know what your time commitments are, you're more likely to stay on task. Time tracking helps to break the habit of constantly shifting between tasks—what I call "scattered attention." By focusing on one thing at a time, you’ll find that you complete your work more efficiently and with higher quality.

Time Tracking: The Tool for Tough Decisions

Time tracking doesn’t just help with daily planning—it forces you to make real, hard choices. You’ll start asking yourself: "Is this truly the best use of my time?" As an academic, you’re often pulled in many directions, but if your goal is to succeed as a writer, you need to take control of where you direct your energy.

For many people, it’s easy to be reactive: answering emails, attending meetings, dealing with admin. But the truly successful writers I’ve coached aren’t just reacting to the flow of the day. They are actively deciding where their time goes and what to prioritise. They don’t have less to do than you –they have the same abominable workload, but time tracking makes this process easier by providing clarity and enabling you to see what’s actually happening.

The Reality Check: Moving from "Should" to "What Is"

One of the most powerful effects of time tracking is the shift from "shoulds" to "what is." Many academics spend years working in ways that they think they "should" be working—perhaps based on habits built decades ago. But the job has changed, and your working habits need to change too. Time tracking forces you to confront the present reality of your work habits and the amount of time you’re spending on each task.

Once you have the data, you can start making adjustments. Perhaps you realise you’re giving too much time to low-priority tasks and not enough to the high-impact writing that you’re supposed to be doing. This revelation can be a game changer. You’ll find yourself more decisive, more willing to say no to distractions, and better equipped to maximise the limited time you have.

The Takeaway: Start Time Tracking Today

If you take away one thing from this blog, let it be this: time tracking is the key to unlocking your productivity as an academic writer. If i had to say the ONE thing I did that changed my entire academic writing game, it was this: time tracking. Whether you’re just starting out or are well into your academic career, tracking your time will bring immediate clarity to how you’re using your day. It forces you to confront hard truths and make the necessary decisions to work with intention, focus, and purpose.

In the next part of this series, we’ll dive into the importance of developing a writer’s identity. But for now, start by taking control of your time—track it, understand it, and watch how it transforms your approach to writing.

Are you ready to take the first step towards being a more productive and intentional academic writer? Time tracking could be just the tool you need.

Stay tuned for part two of the series, where we explore the power of having a writer’s identity and how to cultivate it.

Binge and Bust Writing

Binge and bust writing is one of the most common—and most destructive—writing habits among academics. The majority of my coaching clients come to me with this very issue, even if they don’t initially recognize it as their main problem. They procrastinate, write in frenzied bursts, and then crash after the deadline passes. If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. In fact, it's the norm for many academics. But it doesn’t have to be.

Today, we’ll explore why binge and bust writing is so common, the negative impact it has on both your work and well-being, and how to break the cycle once and for all.

Why Do So Many Academics Struggle with Binge and Bust Writing?

The binge and bust pattern often starts early in an academic career. When we’re undergraduates, we’re conditioned to write last-minute essays, scrambling at the deadline. Many students fall into this cycle, where procrastination leads to a stressful sprint to finish before the due date. This habit, although stressful, gets us through the immediate challenge.

However, when you move into graduate school or a professional academic role, the deadlines stretch out, and the lack of short-term accountability can make it even harder to stay motivated. You carry these bad habits with you into your career, continuing the cycle of procrastination and frantic bursts of writing.

As a junior academic, it might be easy to continue writing this way, but over time, this method becomes unsustainable. The intense stress during the binge phase leads to burnout, and the “bust” phase is a prolonged slump where you struggle to get back to writing.

The Dangers of Binge and Bust Writing

The binge phase is inherently stressful. You’re working under intense pressure, which means your work quality often suffers. You might meet deadlines, but you’re not producing your best work. The emotional toll of working under pressure takes its toll as well, leading to long recovery periods after each burst of writing.

Then comes the bust. After the intense sprint, you crash. There’s no energy left to continue, and the longer you stay in this phase, the harder it is to get back into a regular writing routine. This cycle wastes time, creates stress, and ultimately impacts your academic success. Worse, it builds burnout and erodes self-confidence.

The core issue with binge and bust writing is that it destroys momentum. Academic success isn’t built on working in bursts of frantic activity. Instead, it’s built on consistent progress, which requires a sustainable, daily writing habit.

Why Binge and Bust Writing Doesn’t Work

Binge and bust writing relies on stress to get you moving, but that’s not the ideal way to write. The real key to writing success is momentum—consistent, steady work that builds every day. When you write every day, you continuously improve your ideas. Your thoughts become more refined with each writing session, and the paper slowly evolves into something strong and well-constructed.

In contrast, binge and bust writing relies on pressure to push you through a short burst of productivity. But this doesn’t foster sophisticated thinking. Instead of refining your ideas gradually, you’re writing under duress, producing low-quality work and feeling stressed the whole time.

How to Break Free from the Cycle

To escape the binge and bust cycle, you need to shift your mindset and adopt a more sustainable approach to writing. It starts with creating momentum through consistency. Here’s how to do it:

1. Write Every Day: Start small, but make writing a habit. Set aside a certain amount of time every day—no excuses. This doesn’t mean writing for hours. Even 30 minutes of focused writing every day is more effective than sporadic, high-pressure writing sessions.

2. Time Tracking: One of the keys to building sustainable writing habits is tracking your time. By knowing how much time you’re spending on writing, you can manage your schedule more effectively and build momentum gradually. Time tracking also helps you see where you’re spending too much time, so you can correct inefficient habits.

3. Break Down the Writing Process: One of the hardest parts about breaking the binge and bust cycle is learning how to break a large project, like a paper, into smaller, more manageable tasks. When you can focus on small chunks of writing, you’ll stop feeling overwhelmed. Each task you complete adds to your momentum, and soon, writing becomes easier and more manageable.

4. Create a Writing Pipeline: You need a plan, and it needs to be structured. A writing pipeline helps you know when you’re going to write, what you’ll be working on, and when to expect deadlines. Having a clear pipeline helps you pace yourself, avoid procrastination, and produce higher-quality work consistently.

Why Writing with Momentum Leads to Success

By eliminating the binge and bust cycle, you not only improve the quality of your work but also set yourself up for academic success. Writing every day, tracking your time, and breaking down projects ensures that you’re always moving forward. This creates momentum, which leads to motivation and ultimately success in your academic career.

When you consistently write, your ideas evolve, and your work improves. Plus, you build self-trust. You stop relying on stress to get things done and start relying on discipline and consistency. You’ll produce better work, and the emotional toll of writing will be significantly lessened.

Ready to Stop the Cycle?

Breaking the binge and bust cycle doesn’t happen overnight, but with the right strategies in place, you can transform your writing habits. Start by embracing a daily writing habit, track your time, and break projects into smaller tasks. The path to academic success is built on momentum—not stress and pressure.

I’ve put together free resources to help you get started on this journey. You’ll find training videos and guides that outline the steps for building sustainable writing habits. These are the non-negotiables you need to set up your writing practice for success.

Take the first step towards a better academic career today by breaking free from binge and bust writing. You’ve got this!

(Writing) Career Trapdoors

In academia, the path to success isn’t always a straight line. While we’re trained to focus on research and writing, many scholars fall into the trap of administrative roles and other distractions that hinder their career progression. Today, I want to talk about the career trapdoors—those big, gaping holes—that could prevent your writing career from advancing. These are the common pitfalls that many academics fall into without realizing the long-term damage they’re causing to their academic trajectory.

1. Taking on an Admin Portfolio Too Early

One of the biggest career trapdoors in academia is taking on an administrative portfolio that is beyond your career stage. Whether it’s heading a department or managing a large academic project, these roles can be career killers for early-career scholars. You might be asked to take on one of these roles in your mid-career, but doing so before you’ve established a strong publication record can be detrimental.

The reality is that these positions consume all of your time. You’ll be trapped in endless meetings, handling paperwork, and putting out constant fires. With no time left for writing or research, you risk losing the critical habits and discipline that make you a successful academic. The people who succeed in these roles are often those who can work beyond their contracted hours, sacrificing personal time and well-being for the job. For most, that’s not sustainable.

Tip: Avoid these roles until you have tenure and have made significant strides in your academic career. Focus on publishing and building your academic reputation first.

2. Ignoring What Really Matters in Academia

In academia, it’s easy to get caught up in the daily grind of teaching, administrative work, and student feedback. These aspects of academic life are important, but they are not what truly drives career advancement. If you want to succeed in academia, you must recognize that the key to your academic progression lies in your publications.

Too many academics focus on teaching and admin, thinking it will lead to promotion. The reality is that your institution cares most about how many papers you’ve published and where they’ve been published. To climb the academic ladder, you must prioritize your research and writing, regardless of how much the daily demands might distract you.

Tip: Disconnect from the noise. Focus on your publication record, as that’s what will truly advance your academic career.

3. Becoming Dependent on Collaborations

Collaboration is essential in academic work, but it’s important to also develop the skill of writing solo. Writing alone might feel intimidating, but it’s a crucial skill. Without it, you risk losing your academic voice and identity. If you only ever collaborate, it becomes difficult for others to discern your unique contributions to your field.

Collaboration should supplement, not replace, your individual work. While co-authoring can broaden your reach and provide valuable insights, it’s important to build your personal portfolio of solo-written papers. Having a mix of collaborative and solo-authored work gives you the freedom to shape your own academic identity.

Tip: Challenge yourself to write solo at least some of the time to build your academic reputation and solidify your scholarly identity.

4. Being a One-Trick Pony

It’s important to have a niche in your academic work, but being too narrow in focus can limit your opportunities for career growth. While it’s essential to establish yourself in a specific area, you should also allow your work to evolve and broaden over time. A too-narrow focus can make it difficult to build an international reputation, as it limits your scope and relevance in the academic world.

At the same time, don’t spread yourself too thin by jumping from one topic to the next. This “scattergun” approach can make it hard for others to understand what you stand for academically. It’s about finding a balance—maintaining a strong core focus while gradually expanding into related areas as your career progresses.

Tip: Build a consistent academic narrative that evolves over time. Stay focused but allow for growth and broadening of your expertise.

5. Relying Too Much on Book Chapters

Writing book chapters can be a great way to contribute to the field, but it’s important not to make them your primary form of academic output. While book chapters can be valuable for networking and visibility, peer-reviewed journal articles remain the gold standard in academia. If you only write book chapters, you risk limiting your career prospects.

Peer-reviewed journal articles carry more weight in academic evaluations, promotions, and funding applications. They are crucial for establishing your credibility and scholarly identity. While book chapters can supplement your academic work, they shouldn’t replace high-impact journal articles.

Tip: Don’t fall into the trap of writing too many book chapters. Aim to publish in top-tier journals to boost your academic reputation.

In Conclusion

Avoiding these career trapdoors requires strategic thinking and clear decision-making. The academic landscape is filled with distractions and pressures that can derail your writing career, but with the right focus and boundaries, you can navigate them successfully. If you’re early in your career, concentrate on building a solid publication record. Don’t let the demands of admin or collaboration pull you off course. And always remember that your academic identity is built on the quality of your work, not the number of committees you chair or the amount of admin you do.

If you’re already caught in one of these traps, it’s not too late to course-correct. Recognize where you might be off track and take steps to refocus on what truly matters—your writing, your research, and your academic future.

Academic Training (or lack of it)

In today’s academic world, many of us find ourselves overwhelmed by the sheer scope of our work. Yet, despite dedicating years to training, there’s a surprising gap in the foundational skills necessary for success. Imagine you’re training for a profession—let’s say as an electrician. But instead of spending your apprenticeship wiring homes, you spend it learning plumbing. Sounds absurd, right? Yet, this is how academic training often works. You might think a PhD prepares you for an academic career, but in reality, it doesn’t.

If you’ve ever felt like the academic system didn’t prepare you properly for the demands of the job, you're not alone. So, what can you do about it? Today, we’ll explore six critical areas every academic should be trained in, but often isn’t, and how you can start mastering them today.

1. The Consistent Writing Habit

Writing is the backbone of an academic career, yet so many of us struggle with it. The "boom and bust" cycle of writing—where you binge-write in intense spurts followed by burnout—doesn’t foster long-term success. Imagine if you wrote every day as easily as you show up to class. No drama, no anxiety, just consistency. Writing shouldn’t feel like a huge emotional hurdle each time you sit down; it should be a habit, a part of your routine. If you’re not there yet, it's time to build a reliable, sustainable writing habit. This is the bedrock of your academic career. Without it, everything else will feel unmanageable.

2. Creating Your Research Pipeline

In academia, you can’t afford to just react to the projects that come your way. You need to proactively construct your research pipeline. This means making thoughtful decisions about the projects you take on, based on clear criteria. Instead of waiting for opportunities to land on your desk, take control of your academic path. A well-defined pipeline allows you to focus on the work that aligns with your goals and career aspirations, rather than just scrambling from one task to the next.

3. Workload Management

Anyone who’s worked in academia knows that managing a heavy workload is a constant challenge. You’re understaffed, overworked, and there’s always more to do than there’s time for. But this isn’t something you can wish away. Effective workload management is a skill you need to develop. Without it, you risk burnout, stress, and feeling like you're always drowning in tasks. Start by creating systems for managing your time and responsibilities. This will allow you to work smarter, not harder, and maintain your well-being throughout the academic year.

4. Ideation Training

Do you struggle with constantly shifting ideas during your research process? If your project ideas keep changing and elongating the research phase, you might need ideation training. This skill isn’t something that most PhD programs teach, but it’s essential for swift execution. Solid ideation allows you to hone in on your topic and keep moving forward. Without this clarity, you risk wasting time in endless cycles of reading and research without actually advancing your project.

5. Mastering the Drafting Process

Writing a paper isn’t just about sitting down and spewing out words. It’s about having a system in place. Too many academics fall into the trap of drafting in a way that they learned as PhD students—jumping from one idea to the next without a clear, structured process. The solution? A staged drafting process with defined stages, from rough drafts to polished pieces. By breaking the writing process into clear stages, you can work more efficiently, and your output will improve as you move from concept to completed work.

6. Elevating the Quality of Your Work

It’s not just about quantity in academia; it’s about producing high-quality work that stands out. How do you take an initial idea and turn it into something publishable in top journals? Elevating the quality of your writing and research requires continuous refinement. It’s about pushing beyond the basic draft and truly refining your ideas. To be successful, you need to ensure that your writing not only communicates your ideas clearly but also engages deeply with your academic field.

Reflect and Act: Which of These Six Areas Will Move the Needle for You?

If you’re feeling frustrated with your academic progress, reflect on these six areas. Which one do you think would make the biggest difference in your work? Perhaps it’s building a consistent writing habit, or maybe it’s learning how to better manage your workload. No matter which area you choose, these are the foundations of an academic career that doesn’t just survive but thrives.

Let me know which of these areas resonates with you most. Is it something you wish you had learned during your academic training? I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to share in the comments or reach out on social media. The journey to mastering these skills starts with identifying the right place to focus your energy—and if you want me to guide you through it, you can find this training using my S.C.R.I.B.E Framework, inside the Writer’s Collective.

What Academic Success Means to You

In academia, the path to success can feel like a maze of competing expectations and pressures. So often, we’re told what success looks like—climbing the academic ladder, publishing frequently, becoming a professor. But what if that vision of success doesn’t resonate with you? What if success, to you, looks more like having a balanced life, being fulfilled by your research, and contributing to academia without sacrificing your well-being?

Today, I want to talk about what it truly means to be a successful academic—not based on titles or positions, but on what it takes to thrive in your career without burning out or feeling overwhelmed.

1. What Does Academic Success Mean to You?

Academic success isn’t one-size-fits-all. Some may strive for prestigious titles or leadership positions like becoming a professor or vice chancellor, but the reality is that not every academic has that as their goal. Many of us enter academia because we love learning, teaching, and researching. The goal is not always to climb the ladder—sometimes it’s simply to enjoy a fulfilling, balanced career.

When you think about success in academia, don’t adopt someone else’s definition. Your vision may be different from others’., but it is important that YOU know what is right for YOU. Maybe it’s about work-life balance, meaningful research, or teaching subjects you’re passionate about. Whatever your definition is, it’s important to take ownership of it. Once you define what success looks like for you, it becomes much easier to work toward it.

2. Creating Work-Life Balance in Academia

When I started my academic career, I was handed toxic advice: “You must work all the time. No days off. No holidays. It’s the only way to succeed.” This notion that academia requires non-stop work is still prevalent in some institutions, but I firmly disagree.

For me, success means having a balance between my work and personal life. Academia is an incredible opportunity to learn for a living, but it can easily consume you if you let it. To prevent burnout, I focused on becoming efficient in my work. I developed systems and processes that allowed me to get more done in less time, so I could enjoy my weekends and take vacations without guilt.

Tip: If you’re feeling overwhelmed, assess your work habits. Are you working efficiently, or are you succumbing to the pressure to work endlessly? Creating systems can help manage your time better, allowing you to disconnect and recharge.

3. Focusing on What Matters: Publications Over Titles

While many of us get caught up in the idea of earning a title or position, the truth is that what matters most in academia is your research output. When I started my career, financial stability was a big motivator for me, and I wasn’t focused on becoming a professor. I needed enough money to live, pay my bills, and pursue my interests: make sure my work had impact. The truth is, the financial gap between the professor and other academic levels has significantly decreased over time, so titles didn’t (for me anyway) hold as much weight.

What truly drives your academic career forward are your publications. The more you focus on writing, publishing, and contributing to your field, the more you’ll build your reputation and open doors for further opportunities. Without this baseline, opportunities do not come.

Tip: Shift your focus from titles to results. If you’re aiming for promotions or new opportunities, your track record of publications is what will matter most.

4. Characteristics of Successful Academics

Now that you’ve defined success for yourself, it’s time to adopt the behaviours that will help you achieve it. Successful academics have a few key traits:

• They write first: writing is their top priority. They don’t start their day with emails, meetings, or prep work. Instead, they dedicate their best hours to writing. By doing so, they set the tone for their day and ensure they’re always progressing on their research.

• They set boundaries: successful academics know when to say no. They protect their time and energy, ensuring they don’t overcommit to tasks that don’t align with their goals.

• They manage their workload effectively: successful academics have systems and processes in place to handle their workload efficiently. They don’t feel overwhelmed because they’ve developed the discipline and systems necessary to manage their tasks without burning out.

These behaviours are foundational to building a thriving academic career on your terms. They help you stay focused, avoid burnout, and continue making progress on your research without sacrificing your well-being.

5. Overcoming the Need for External Validation

Many academics feel that without the right mentorship or institutional support, they can’t succeed. While a great mentor can definitely help, it’s not a prerequisite for success. I’ve worked with numerous clients who came from non-academic backgrounds (like me) and made successful careers for themselves by focusing on what they could control—writing, publishing, and finding their own path to success.

Tip: You don’t need a prestigious mentor or external validation to succeed in academia. Focus on building your skills, your network, and your body of work. Success will follow.

6. WORKING WHERE YOU ARE, NOT Where you want to be

Success in academia doesn’t come without its challenges, especially if you’re working within a system that doesn’t always align with your personal values. However, recognizing and accepting the realities of academia—without romanticizing it—will help you stay grounded. This isn’t about wishing for academia to be different; it’s about accepting it for what it is and finding your way to thrive within it.

Tip: Be realistic about the academic landscape, but don’t let it hold you back. Find ways to work within the system that allow you to achieve your own definition of success.

In Conclusion

Academic success is deeply personal and can look different for everyone. Whether it’s about research, work-life balance, financial stability, or the pursuit of personal interests, defining success on your own terms is crucial. Once you’ve defined it, the next step is to align your actions with your goals. Write first, set boundaries, and manage your workload. Prioritize your publications over titles, and don’t let external pressures dictate your path.

What does success look like for you in academia? Take some time to reflect on this and start taking actionable steps to create the academic career that feels fulfilling and true to your values.

Do You Write To Think?

In a recent coaching session, one of my clients brought up the idea of “writing to think.” She had come across one of my training videos where I had dismissively said, “Don’t talk to me about writing to think – this is bullshit.” It was clear that this comment triggered something in her, and she decided to bring it up during our coaching session.

This got me thinking that it might be useful to share why I often dismiss the concept of writing to think, and why I believe it’s something worth unpacking. Let’s dive into the topic.

What Do We Really Mean by “Writing to Think”?

When people talk about “writing to think,” they typically mean using writing as a way to organize and clarify their thoughts. Of course, writing is a process that involves thinking – that should go without saying. We don’t just think in one place, stop thinking, and then mechanically move on to the next task. Thinking and writing are intertwined.

But when people refer to “writing to think,” they often use it as an excuse for avoiding a structured, step-by-step writing process. These are the people who struggle with the drafting process because they try to write, edit, and create all at once. Instead of drafting and moving forward, they get stuck in one paragraph, polishing it endlessly, even though they don’t have a clear sense of where the piece is headed.

This is what I take issue with when I hear “writing to think.” If you're sitting there, staring at a single paragraph for hours on end, hoping the right words or thoughts will come to you—you're not writing to think; you're avoiding the real thinking that should be happening during your writing process.

The Right Way to “Write to Think”

Now, successful and prolific writers often use the phrase “writing to think” in a different way. What they mean is that, as they move through their drafting process—from ideation to gathering information, to creating a rough draft, and finally editing and polishing—their thoughts become more refined and sophisticated with each step.

This is how writing should work. As you work through your draft, your ideas get clearer, sharper, and more nuanced. It’s a natural part of the writing process to become more thoughtful as you refine and revise your text. But that’s not what people mean when they use “writing to think” as an excuse to endlessly tinker with a single paragraph.

So, if you hear someone you admire say, “I write to think,” understand that they’re not sitting there, obsessively working on one paragraph. They're pushing through their drafts, moving from one stage to the next, and refining their thoughts as they go.

Avoiding the Resistance to Process

One of the biggest obstacles to effective writing is the resistance to a structured process. Many people fear that having a process will limit their creativity or make their writing feel too rigid. But writing is a technical task, especially in academic settings, and the best way to communicate complex ideas is by following a clear, step-by-step method.

When we allow ourselves to get stuck on one paragraph, hoping for inspiration to strike, we’re not engaging in the real process of writing. We’re stalling. Successful writers understand that drafting and redrafting, even if the initial ideas are rough, will always lead to a sharper, more coherent final piece. It’s through this process that we truly “think” about our topic, not by endlessly tinkering with the same sentences.

The Bigger Picture: Academic Writing and Thinking

As academics, we need to focus on thinking through our ideas thoroughly and systematically. It’s easy to get caught in the trap of writing to think—believing that the act of writing is itself a form of thinking—but this often leads to procrastination, frustration, and a lack of progress. Instead, approach your writing with a clear plan: start with an outline, create drafts, and refine those drafts step by step. This is where the real thinking happens.

If you're finding yourself stuck in the “writing to think” trap, I encourage you to step back and examine your writing process. Are you stalling? Are you resisting a structured approach? Or are you genuinely moving through each stage of the drafting process, allowing your thoughts to evolve naturally as you progress?

By embracing a clear, organized process, you’ll find that your thoughts become more sophisticated and your writing will improve in ways that simply aren’t possible if you’re stuck on that one paragraph.

So, next time someone says, “I write to think,” ask yourself: are they really writing to think? Or are they avoiding the hard work of following a structured process?

5 Things I Wish I Knew As a Junior Academic

…And 5 Things That Served Me Well

When I first entered academia, I thought I was walking into a meritocracy — a world where hard work, intellectual brilliance, and dedication would naturally be rewarded. I was wrong.

Here are the five things I wish I’d known when I started my academic career and five lessons that might just make your path a little smoother.

1. Academia is a strategicocracy, not a meritocracy

When I started, I assumed the smartest people, the hardest workers, and the best teachers were the ones who got ahead. I believed that quality would be self-evident. But academia rewards strategy, not stamina. The system runs on overwork, overcommitment, and constant demands. There’s always more to do than there is time. So the people who succeed are the ones who are strategic about where they place their energy.

They focus on high-leverage work: the activities that move the needle on their careers. They understand that “doing everything” is a trap, not a virtue.

2. Work in the institution you’re actually in — not the one you wish you were in

It’s easy to fall in love with an idealised version of academia. One where everyone collaborates, workloads are fair, and good work naturally rises to the top. But every institution has its own culture, politics, and hidden hierarchies. If you want to thrive, you have to understand your university’s real operating system; how decisions are made, what’s rewarded, and what’s quietly ignored. Wishing things were different drains energy that could be used to work effectively within the system or to plan your escape from it.

3. Work allocation is not about equity

This one took me far too long to learn. I used to believe that workload was distributed fairly and that leaders had a clear overview of who was doing what. In reality, your head of department is juggling a dozen hot potatoes and they’ll hand them to whoever seems available. Not because they’re malicious, but because they need the pain to stop.

If you say yes to everything, you simply become the easiest person to offload onto. Learning to say “no”, calmly, clearly, and without apology is one of the most powerful skills you can develop in academia.

4. A PhD doesn’t train you to write as an academic

This might sound shocking, but it’s true: PhD writing habits don’t translate into the professional writing life. As a doctoral student, you have unlimited time, a single project, and someone giving you feedback. None of those conditions exist in your academic job. If you don’t develop new skills around writing process, planning, and consistency, your productivity will stall. Learning to write strategically, that is, to create, refine, and elevate your work through structured drafting is the foundation of a sustainable academic career.

5. Build your intellectual network early

The most successful academics don’t work alone. They have a network: a circle of trusted peers who share ideas, read drafts, and collaborate without judgment. This network keeps your research alive when your department feels like a desert. It offers accountability, intellectual stimulation, and protection against burnout. You need colleagues who get your work and who will tell you when it’s brilliant and more importantly, when it’s not there yet. Build those connections before you need them.

The personal traits that helped me thrive

When I look back, there are a few qualities I brought into academia that helped me stay sane and progress fast. I had strong boundaries. I didn’t open email before writing, and I protected my time fiercely. I understood that academia was a job, not my entire identity. That distinction gave me freedom. I also grasped, fairly early on, that time management isn’t about being busy, but rather, it’s about being strategic. Knowing what matters and executing it efficiently.

The takeaway

Academia can be thrilling, infuriating, and profoundly meaningful — but it isn’t fair, and it isn’t designed for your well-being.

If you can accept that and still choose to engage strategically, protect your energy, and invest in your writing and networks, you can build a career that’s not only successful, but sustainable. Because thriving in academia isn’t about doing more. Instead it’s about doing the right things with clarity, courage, and intention.

Why Your Monograph Isn’t Moving Forward—Even Though You’re Working on It

If you’ve technically started your book, but progress feels like dragging yourself through mud—this post is for you. You might have outlines, some chapters, scattered notes, maybe even 40,000 words. And yet, the project feels fragmented, elusive, and frustratingly slow.

It’s not that you’re not working. It’s that you’re not working in a way that creates momentum.

The Hidden Problem: Fragmentation

One of the most overlooked barriers to writing a monograph is fragmentation. It shows up in ways like:

• Writing disconnected sections without a coherent through-line

• Losing track of your argument across chapters

• Revising the introduction obsessively while other chapters sit untouched

• Switching between multiple projects, never really finishing one

You feel like you’re doing a lot, but when you zoom out, the book isn’t taking shape. And that’s not a productivity problem—it’s a process problem.

Academics are often managing huge workloads: admin, teaching, mentorship, and high expectations for output. That means writing gets squeezed into fragmented chunks of time.

You sit down, open a chapter, and think, Where was I again? You tweak a sentence here, a paragraph there, then run out of time. It feels productive, but it’s not progressing.

Over time, the project starts to feel unmanageable. And because no single piece seems to bring you closer to “done,” you start to dread sitting down to work on it.

What’s Really Missing: A Book-Wide Strategy

What you need isn’t more time or more effort. It’s coherence. A strategy that links your big ideas to your chapter structure to your daily writing sessions.

Ask yourself:

• Do you have a map for how your chapters interact?

• Can you summarise your book’s central argument in a sentence?

• Do your chapters each move that argument forward?

If not, it’s no wonder the writing feels scattered.

A Book Needs More Than a Collection of Chapters

Think of your monograph not as a set of essays, but as a narrative arc. Each chapter should build on the last and prepare for the next.

Most writers never get this bird’s-eye view until it’s too late—or they try to reverse-engineer it during final revisions, which causes more pain and wasted effort.

The most successful monograph writers I’ve worked with don’t wait for the book to magically cohere. They build coherence into the process.

There Is a Way Forward

You don’t need to throw away your drafts. You don’t need to start over. You need to take what you’ve already created and restructure your process around clarity, coherence, and cumulative progress.

That’s not about writing more. It’s about writing smarter—and giving yourself the structure your book has been missing.

📬 Want to Bring Your Monograph Together Without Starting Over?

My Monograph Programme is designed for exactly this stage of the process—when you’ve started, but the work isn’t moving. We build clarity, coherence, and completion into your workflow so your book finally takes shape.

When Writing is Your Hobby, Your Academic Career Dies

There’s a quiet tragedy that plays out across universities every single day. Brilliant academics who’ve spent decades training their minds treat writing as if it were a hobby. Something to get to after the real work is done. Something for the weekends. For the mythical quiet time that never comes. They teach. They sit on committees. They supervise, mark, review, advise, and administrate. And they write only in the margins; on borrowed time, stolen mornings, or those magical sabbaticals that vanish before the work has even begun.

And slowly, imperceptibly, their careers begin to starve.

The Hard Truth

If you treat writing like a hobby, your academic career will quietly hollow out. Writing is the career. Some of you will not like hearing that. It’s not an add-on, not an afterthought, not a bonus for when everything else is done. It’s the visible, lasting expression of your intellectual life. Without a consistent writing practice, your thinking stagnates. Your ideas never mature. Your expertise never quite lands in the world. And in academia, visibility matters. The system may be flawed, but it’s also brutally clear: publications, grants, and intellectual contribution are the currency that sustains your professional life.

Why So Many Smart People Fall Into This Trap

Because the system trains you to. PhD students learn to respond : to supervisors, reviewers, teaching loads, departmental needs, externally imposed deadlines. The culture - on the surface at least - rewards responsiveness, not depth. So you get good at reacting, firefighting, and delivering on other people’s timelines and objectives. You serve their projects.

Writing, on the other hand, demands sovereignty. It’s self-generated. You have to choose to sit down. You have to decide what matters. You have to withstand the discomfort of being alone with your own ideas. That’s why so many academics keep writing as a “nice-to-have.” It’s easier to stay in motion and to fill your days with visible, reactive work than to confront the quiet, demanding work of producing ideas that matter.

The Professional vs. The Hobbyist

Here’s the difference:

When you shift from hobbyist to professional, everything changes. You stop asking, “When will I find the time?” You start asking, “What will I protect to make time?” That shift alone can resurrect a stalled career.

The Feedback Loop of Neglect

When writing slips, confidence erodes. When confidence erodes, writing slips further. You feel out of touch with your field. Your projects stall. You start avoiding colleagues who ask, “How’s the book coming?” And here’s the most dangerous part: you start compensating with busywork, more committees, more students, more administrative responsibilities, because they offer an easy sense of productivity.
But that kind of work doesn’t compound. Writing does.
Every finished article, every new idea on paper, every draft moved forward; that’s how intellectual authority is built.

Reclaim Writing as Your Core Practice

If you want your career to thrive, you have to bring writing back to the centre. That means:

1. Scheduling it first.
   Build your week around writing, not writing around your week.

2. Saying no to low-value work.
   Not because you’re selfish — because you’re protecting your impact.

3. Investing in your writing process.
   Training, systems, accountability, and feedback are not indulgences. They’re infrastructure.

4. Writing even when it’s uncomfortable.
   You can’t think your way into writing. You write your way into thinking.

The Real Work

Your career doesn’t end when you stop writing, it just stops growing. The meetings will continue. The emails will multiply. Your calendar will stay full. But without writing, it all becomes motion without meaning. Writing is how you anchor your intellectual life in something enduring. It’s how you participate in the conversation that defines your field. It’s how you matter.

So this week, ask yourself:

“Am I treating my writing like the core of my career, or like a side hobby I hope to get to someday?”

Because the day you start protecting your writing like your career depends on it — is the day your career truly begins again.

The Art of Finishing: Moving Projects Over the Line

There’s a particular energy in beginnings. The rush of ideas, the novelty, the feeling that this time, this project, will be different.

But finishing — really finishing — is a different art form altogether. It demands a different energy. A different mindset. And for most academics, it’s where the whole system breaks down.

We start too many things. We overcommit. We polish forever. We stall, waiting for some elusive moment of readiness.

The truth? Finishing isn’t about waiting until it’s perfect. It’s about managing yourself through the messy middle to the finish line.

Why We Struggle to Finish

Finishing triggers fear. It brings visibility, judgement, and the possibility of failure. Once you finish, you have to show your work. If it’s done well, this work demonstrates that you stand for something, and that you had something to say.

So we hover in the safety of the almost-done. We tinker, we re-read, we “just need to add that one reference.” Perfectionism, imposter feelings, and cognitive overload all play a role. But so does something simpler: a lack of clear process for what “finishing” looks like.

The Anatomy of Finishing

To finish well, you need three things:

1. Definition – What does done actually mean for this project?

   • Is it ready for submission, for peer feedback, or for publication?

   • Be explicit — vagueness fuels avoidance.

2. Containment – Create boundaries for how much more you’ll do.

   • “I’ll do one more read for structure, one more for clarity, then I’m done.”

   • Deadlines are powerful when you decide what’s enough.

3. Momentum – Finishing requires sustained focus.

   • Schedule finishing sessions where the only goal is closure: references finalised, conclusion written, submission uploaded.

Finishing isn’t glamorous. It’s admin, persistence, and emotional regulation — the least celebrated academic skill, but arguably the most important!

I spend a lot more time than I would like trying to get people over the line with their writing, and its not the writing I am managing but the emotional regulation of letting them know it is OK. It is time to move on.

The Mindset Shift

You don’t need to feel ready to finish. You need to decide to finish. That decision creates a cascade of action:

• You stop entertaining new ideas.

• You stop rewriting the introduction.

• You stop letting fear of rejection dictate your timeline.

Finishing is an act of courage. It says, “This is what I can offer now.” And then you let the work go and move on to the next thing.

A Mini Finishing Audit

Take five minutes to do this right now:

1. List every writing project you’ve started.

2. Mark each one as: active, stalled, or abandoned.

3. Choose one that’s 80% done and commit to finishing it this month.

Then ask yourself:

“What would it take to move this over the line?”

Not in theory — in practice. What’s missing? What’s in your way? What tiny, unglamorous actions would get it done? This kind of self-audit is powerful because it shifts your focus from guilt to action.

The Takeaway

Finishing is not about speed. It’s about closure. It’s how you build a track record, a publication pipeline, and most importantly, trust in yourself. If you want to change your relationship with writing, don’t aim to start more projects — aim to finish the ones you’ve already begun.

Because every finished piece — however imperfect — builds momentum, clarity, and confidence. So this week, I’ll leave you with one question:

What’s the one thing you could finish before Friday?

The Drainers and the Drivers: A 10 Minute Writing Hack

Academics often think about productivity as a matter of willpower: “If only I had more discipline, I’d be writing more.” But in reality, writing success isn’t about being superhuman. It’s about noticing what is draining you and what is driving you—and then adjusting your environment, habits, and mindset accordingly.

This quick check-in is designed to help you run a personal audit: where are you bleeding energy and momentum, and where are you gaining it? Because once you know that, you can stop fighting yourself and start working with yourself.

Why an Audit Matters

Academic life is relentless. You’re juggling teaching, supervision, admin, service, and research. Writing is the thing most closely tied to your career advancement yet it often ends up at the bottom of the list. That’s not because you don’t care about it. It’s because you’re caught in a web of “drainers” that sap your focus and leave you spinning.

On the other side, there are “drivers”: small practices, supports, and mindsets that lift you, energise you, and make the work flow.

Without clarity, you end up defaulting to survival mode and drowning in the drainers. With clarity, you can shift your week, even your day, so you’re investing more in the drivers and cutting off the drainers at the root.

Step One: Spot the Drainers

Drainers are the habits, contexts, or patterns that quietly (or loudly) sabotage your writing. Some are obvious, others insidious. Ask yourself:

• Time Thieves – Where does your writing time actually go? Endless emails, admin tasks that feel urgent, students dropping by? If your writing slot is constantly at risk, you’ve found a drainer.

• Mental Clutter – How often do you sit down to write but can’t concentrate because you’re carrying unresolved decisions, too many to-dos, or general overwhelm? Cognitive overload is one of the biggest productivity killers.

• Toxic Comparisons – Scrolling social media or hearing a colleague announce yet another publication can drain your energy before you’ve even opened your document.

• Pseudo-Productivity – The endless tinkering with references, formatting, or outlines that makes you feel busy but doesn’t move the text forward.

• Unrealistic Expectations – Telling yourself you should be able to “write a draft in a week” or “work like you did during sabbatical” only leads to guilt and paralysis.

• Burnout Creep – Low energy, cynicism, and lack of focus are not signs that you’re lazy; they’re signs your system is running on empty.

Write these down. Which ones show up most for you right now? Even naming them takes their power down a notch.

Step Two: Identify the Drivers

Drivers are the practices and supports that help you move forward with less resistance. They don’t necessarily make writing easy, but they create conditions where writing is more possible. Think about:

• Protected Time – Even 30-60 minutes of protected, non-negotiable writing time can transform your output. The consistency matters more than the length.

• Clear Next Steps – Knowing what your very next move is (drafting, revising, adding sources) prevents decision fatigue. Writing plans make writing flow.

• Micro-Wins – Finishing a paragraph, hitting 250 words, or making a decision on structure can feel tiny but builds momentum.

• Accountability – Sharing goals with a writing buddy, coach, or group keeps you honest and supported.

• Joy in the Process – When was the last time you noticed the fun of exploring an idea? Tapping into curiosity often flips writing from a chore to a driver.

• Rest and Recovery – Counterintuitive as it sounds, taking proper breaks is one of the most powerful writing drivers. A well-rested brain writes better.

Circle which of these you already have in your week. Then ask: which ones could you experiment with adding?

Step Three: Weigh Them Up

Here’s the real power of the drainer/driver check-in: put them side by side.

• If you’ve listed six big drainers and only one or two weak drivers, no wonder writing feels hard.

• If your drainers are minor but your drivers strong, you’re probably closer to writing flow than you realise.

• The goal isn’t to eliminate every drainer (some are unavoidable), but to tip the balance so your drivers outweigh them.

A quick exercise: draw two columns. Left side: your top three drainers. Right side: your top three drivers. Now ask: what’s one drainer I can reduce this week, and what’s one driver I can double down on?

Step Four: Make Small, Concrete Adjustments

Productivity isn’t about overhauling your entire system overnight. It’s about small, sustainable shifts. For example:

• If “email first thing” is a drainer → try writing before opening your inbox, even if just for 20 minutes.

• If “unclear next steps” is a drainer → finish each session by jotting down exactly where to pick up tomorrow.

• If “burnout” is a drainer → commit to one genuine rest activity (a walk, a nap, a book for pleasure) each day.

• If “accountability” is a driver → schedule a co-writing session with a colleague or join a structured programme.

Why This Matters for Your Career

Publications don’t emerge from bursts of inspiration. They come from sustainable writing habits that accumulate into finished projects.

By doing a drainer/driver audit, you stop blaming yourself for “not being disciplined enough” and start treating writing like what it is: a professional practice that depends on context, support, and energy management.

This isn’t about working harder—it’s about working smarter. The academics who thrive are not the ones who push through at all costs, but the ones who design systems that protect their energy and momentum.

A Quick Challenge for You

Take 10 minutes today to do your drainer/driver audit. Write down:

• Three things that are draining your writing right now.

• Three things that are driving your writing right now.

Then decide: one drainer to reduce, one driver to amplify.

You’ll be surprised how much lighter and more productive you feel with just that small shift.

Expanding capacity as a tool of writing

We often think the key to writing more is time. More hours. Longer weekends. Clearer calendars.

But the truth is, time isn't the only currency that matters when it comes to writing. If you're mid-career, juggling research, admin, mentoring, and teaching (not to mention life beyond the university), then you already know: the time never magically appears. And even when it does , it doesn’t always help.

Why? Because what actually determines whether writing gets done isn’t just time, it's capacity.

What Do I Mean by Capacity?

Capacity is your cognitive, emotional, and energetic availability to engage meaningfully with your writing. It’s what allows you to think clearly, focus deeply, and make intellectual decisions on the page. It’s what lets you approach your manuscript without dread. What gives you the presence to connect ideas, find your argument, and push the work forward. It’s the difference between sitting at your desk for three hours and producing nothing, and sitting down for 45 minutes and making real progress.

Your capacity is what fuels your writing engine. Without it, time is just an empty container.

Mid-Career and the Myth of Experience

One of the trickiest parts about mid-career writing is that you’re experienced enough to know what excellent writing looks like and often too stretched to consistently produce it. At this stage, most academics are carrying a heavy load: editorial boards, external reviews, committee leadership, PhD supervision, multiple research projects. These obligations accumulate just as personal responsibilities peak too: caregiving, financial pressures, health.

This results in a frustrating paradox: your expertise is at its peak, but your capacity is thinned to its lowest ebb.

And here’s the kicker: because you can still produce under pressure, you often do… until you burn out or drop below the quality you know you’re capable of. So you push harder, but not smarter. You get stuck in what I call the “over-functioning / under-producing” cycle; always working, never quite writing.

The Cost of Shrinking Capacity

Shrinking capacity doesn’t just slow down your writing: it erodes confidence. You begin to mistrust your ability to think clearly or follow through. You stop planning ambitious pieces or pull back from risky or innovative scholarship. You choose smaller, faster projects just to stay afloat and slowly start to compromise your scholarly identity.

This is not a writing issue. It’s a capacity issue. And it’s why productivity tips alone are never enough.

So the question isn’t just “How do I find time to write?” It’s also:
How do I expand my capacity so that when I do sit down to write, I’m available to do the work that matters?

Expanding Capacity: What It Really Looks Like

Let’s be clear: expanding capacity doesn’t mean doing more. It means becoming more resourced, that is, intellectually, emotionally, practically, so writing feels possible, energising, and sustainable.

Here are four essential components:

1. Strategic Clarity

Nothing drains capacity faster than fog. Many academics waste enormous mental energy wondering: Is this the right project?, What’s the argument?, Is this publishable?

Getting crystal clear on your project’s purpose, contribution, and fit eliminates decision fatigue and frees up cognitive space. This is why the very first phase of any writing plan should be strategic thinking — not blind drafting.

2. Realistic Project Design

A project that overwhelms your current capacity is poorly designed. Period. You need to match the scope and timeline of your work to the actual time and energy you can give it . Not your fantasy version of yourself in a parallel universe with no teaching, admin, or children. Designing right-sized writing goals is an act of self-respect. And it creates momentum rather than guilt.

3. Boundaried Work Practices

If writing is always squeezed into the margins of your day, your brain starts to associate it with stress, scarcity, and failure. That’s a capacity killer. Creating small but sacred writing containers — protected, time-bound, and realistic — trains your brain to trust that writing will happen. That it’s not another broken promise. Boundaries restore capacity by reducing guilt, preserving energy, and creating psychological safety around your writing time.

4. Support Structures

You weren’t meant to do this alone. Academics are some of the most structurally unsupported knowledge workers in the world. Writing isn’t just hard, it’s isolating. Especially at mid-career, when peer support drops off and everyone assumes you’ve ‘got it handled’. Investing in structured support, whether that’s coaching, peer accountability, or a strategic writing programme , restores capacity by taking the burden of “figuring it out” off your plate.

You don't need more discipline. You need more support.

Writing from Capacity — Not Collapse

If you're only writing when you're at your limit, you’re reinforcing a pattern that makes your best work harder and harder to access. Writing should not be a survival activity. It should be a scholarly one.

Expanding your capacity isn’t a luxury — it’s the foundation of your intellectual life. It's what allows you to return to your writing with energy, not dread. Clarity, not confusion. Purpose, not panic.

Workload management in Universities: time versus stress management & burnout

I’m not talking about the University Workload Allocation Matrix or whatever fantasy football equivalent your particular institution runs. We all know what we know: they are not accurate, they are not realistic because if they were the University would need to hire 50 more people in your department.

So let’s just get over that now, move past it, this is not a discussion about that.

Time and stress management

I’m talking about how YOU manage the workload YOU have been allocated, how much mental real estate you give to various parts of that allocation, and how you manage and sometimes bargain - because, yes, people do this - so that you optimise YOUR particular workload into something that won’t lead to burnout for YOU.

As you can see, my feelings are: this is different for people.

I talk alot about time management in my training because ‘not enough time’ is a preoccupation of many academics not getting to their writing. Whilst time management is important because efficiency matters, and unpicking stories around time is central to making sustainable writing progress, what if you already have all the time management systems in place?

You are a time management ninja.

You have good systems of capture, you have a way of allocating time to task, and you know why you are writing what you are doing and have multi-scale planning down to a fine art? What then?

What if the writing problems are located not in how much you have to do (yes, we know too much) or how you manage that, but WHAT you have to do. We all have more or less tolerance for certain things in our working environment, and if you are consistently rubbing up against the thing that stresses you out in particular, your stress levels are high and then your capacity to engage in deep work - and particularly writing – is vastly diminished. So, it’s important to identify, what is it for you?

In his podcast, Cal Newport gives 4 categories of the type of stress that you might find in the work environment.

·      Time stress- overload of tasks, not enough time to do it in

• Expectation stress- that you have to deliver a very high quality outcome (real or perceived)

• Uncertainty/Risk - possible bad things will happen (eg if you set boundaries, if something isn’t done) or you don’t know the next steps

• Conflict - toxic workplaces or individuals, or systems that encourage conflict

I am going to add one here which is related to uncertainty and risk, but not the same.

• Control – control over your tasks (not allocation) – but execution

Less things to do is not always the answer

The mistake I see both individual academics and institutions make over and over again is the concentration on ‘how many tasks’ a person is allocated as for example the root cause of burnout, failure to perform or failure to produce quality outputs. A classic response to a member of staff coming back from sick leave caused by burnout is in fact to take away the number of tasks. And of course if that was the root cause, GREAT. Problem solved. Rarely though is the problem this clear cut.  Sometimes fewer tasks being allocated cannot and will not cure the problem, and that is why return to work practices can fail.

We need to think more carefully about the things that gives particular individuals huge stress, to prevent burnout yes, but also to create greater capacity for everyone so they can get their writing done.

Let’s give a concrete example. A classic way to game the WAM system when I was a wee small academic was to teach across many small modules – to avoid the core subjects at all costs - but not be in charge of anything. Essentially you taught across a breadth of subjects, but you did little else except grade the papers of those students. You had no responsibility for course leadership, exams and other assessments, meetings and so on and your WAM figures looked very impressive. This type of approach leaves you with no control, but little risk, low expectations, low conflict and fewer tasks. You deploy as a teaching robot, but otherwise your mental real estate is preserved for other stuff.

For some, this is optimally low stress and high capacity, because breadth of teaching is not the stressor. Stress for this person might look like one of the other things – high number of tasks, high expectations, high level of responsibility, perhaps conflict.

In other cases (me) I would rather have MORE work - more tasks, more responsibility, high expectations /or conflict, because lack of control is my number 1 stressor. I don’t mind allocating work (possible conflict), being the decision makers (high expectations and accountability) and I can tolerate risk well (if I get it wrong, it’s on me). Task overload is not then my stressor as I am a very organised person and have good time management skills, so ‘too many tasks’ is not what leads to burnout in me. But if I lack control over my work and my schedule, because Barbara is my course leader and she is a chaos monster, I am on my last nerve in 3 minutes flat. I can’t tolerate working with Barbara, and I will take on more tasks to avoid her. I will have more work, but less Barabra and less stress. If I were to burn out  and my back to work was you only have 1 class to teach, but you guessed it, it’s with Barbara, I am back on sick leave.

Review what stresses you out

Do an audit about what really pushes your buttons. Is it that you just cannot stand ONE MORE MINUTE working with Barbara? You would rather teach 3 more courses - take it. Bargain your way out of the stress triggers. Is it the uncertainty around the role you have been allocated (very common in academia where roles – and tasks😂 - are never defined)? Uncertainty feels like you are doomed to fail because you cannot know what you are meant to be doing, and high expectations around ill-defined tasks cause some people to allocate a lot of metal real estate to unsolvable problems.

Don’t conflate stressors: I’m not afraid of conflict with Barbara – I’ll do that all day long. My stress is Barbara is chaos and no amount of shouting will undo that. I need to avoid the chaos caused by Barbara – the uncertainty, the lack of organisation, the last minute requests, the student unhappiness caused by Barbara’s chaos that ends up in my inbox. I can’t deal with THAT, not Barbara. Of course sometimes a toxic co-worker should just be avoided because it ‘gets on us’ like radiation, and we don’t want that.

When these stressors are gone, you’ll be amazed how much capacity appears for writing when your mental real estate is spacious and untroubled. How much you realise it was not the number of things to do, but the other stuff that dragged you under.

If in fact it IS task overload – you need to get rid of some roles and keep others – remember not all roles bring the same level of task exposure, or the same type of stressors. Boundaries are your friend, negotiation is key and not everything requires 100% of your capacity. Choose wisely, and deploy your real estate judiciously.