Tell me: how do you structure your PhD workday?

Are you following a general 9-5 schedule, assuming you’ll finish your work during those hours (and if not, you’ll squeeze in a little or a lot of extra time in the evenings or on the weekends)?

How do you know you are making progress? Do you use word count or other metrics to keep track?

I have come to realise that academic productivity is — and always will be — non-linear. In the face of this inconvenient truth, we adopt all sorts of systems and conventions in an attempt to keep a sense of control over how our work is going.

– Time-based systems such as an 8-hour workday.
– Output-based systems such as word count.
– Peer-based systems as in: “what is everyone else doing??”
– Effort-based systems when our hours or word count, or whatever our system is, fails to reassure us – at which point we start moving on to thinking we should be doing more, especially when it looks like nothing much is happening on the page.

Maybe if we just keep at it until we absolutely can’t do any more, we will have done enough. But will it be enough?? Feels like it is never enough.

One idea changed the way I think about how to best manage PhD work (and the question of ‘doing enough’): manage your energy, not your time.

It is about understanding your own rhythms, your own creativity — and letting those guide your work. Being aware of your energy levels is essential in making this work.

In practical language: most of us have a few hours each day when we are mentally sharp and we have most mental energy.

Use these hours for your most challenging academic tasks, like writing, every day.
Prioritise this work above all else.

That’s it. That’s the idea.

The rest of the day can be filled with meetings and other tasks, but your most important work gets done. Every single workday.

Now, there is a lot more to this as in life tends to be complicated, but simply reflecting on how this approach compares to how you manage your time and energy now is a good place to start.

Maybe you’ll notice a pattern of working lots of hours without feeling you are getting much done at all.

Or perhaps there are so many distractions you feel you never quite get round to uninterrupted work for a few hours.

Perhaps both.

What do you notice? And does the idea of managing your energy — rather than your time — appeal?

If you’d like support, I am available for mentoring and I would be delighted to work with you. Or, check out my online course — it guides you through designing and implementing what a highly effective work routine, which can help you finish your PhD in just 2-3 hours a day. 

I was invited by my friend and Cape Town host Gen. After a fantastic visit in 2023 I am trying to make my trips to Cape Town a regular feature, and this year I succeeded and I was back in town. A place had opened up in this workshop she was attending for work: would I be interested in going? Well yes, I would!

Now to be honest I wasn’t expecting much from the strengths assessment test. I thought it would be something like the Myers-Briggs assessment, or any of the many tools for personal development out there. I was there more because it was a unique invitation, and I wasn’t going to let that opportunity to taste a bit of SA life slip. But when I dutifully filled out the test to my surprise a profile popped up that described me pretty well!

(So much so in fact that I have ended up in some of the promotional material of the lady who organised the event, as they were recording when I was telling her how well!)

What I naturally bring: agile mind, excellent thinker, enjoys musing, brings new and fresh perspectives, finds life intriguing, understands and appreciates the uniqueness in all individuals. Check, check, check and check!

But equally interesting was what they call the ‘basement’ of each of these strengths, and this is where I will get into the PhD bit.

Four out of five of my top five strengths according to this system are in strategic thinking. These strengths are mostly conceptual. I am very good at thinking, as probably you are too!

However, the negative side of these strengths read something like: slow to act, wastes time thinking too much, lacks focus on results, learns a lot, produces little! (I am only a little offended here.)

Now obviously, compared to any other profession, academics need to err on the side of thinking too much, rather than thinking too little! But I realised looking at these results that ‘thinking too much’ was one of the main habits I changed to successfully finish my PhD in the very few hours a day I had available.

At the time I realised I had to get out of my own way. I had to trust myself and just get it done, rather than spend more time thinking. Or worse: spend time worrying about how it was going! You can even start worrying that you’re worrying too much etc. There are endless meta levels here!

The muscle I had to train was that of being disciplined in consistently doing the next task, write that next paragraph etc. which would allow me to keep the PhD moving towards completion. I had to decide to become unapologetically forward-moving!

Interestingly, as a result the whole process started to flow and just work better.

It was an epiphany, honestly. Not overthinking my thinking. And making sure I didn’t get stuck there, but rather to keep it moving.

What about you? Are you overthinking your PhD?

If you’d like to know exactly how I stopped the pattern of overthinking consider getting my course, as I walk you through the process step by step.

As a start: observe and start recognising when you’re in this pattern, and choose to finish something tangible in your next work session. It could be just a paragraph. But make it real – get it from your head onto the page.

You can do this!

This is a slightly shortened version of my newsletter. Sign up for the newsletter on the right by signing up for my free resources. You will be the first to receive my PhD tips & stories!

Our contribution is part of a forum on “Dead-Ends, Disasters, Delays? Reflecting on Research Failure in International Studies and Ways to Avoid It” in ‘International Studies Perspectives’ and you can find it here.

In the article, we reflect on our own academic journeys and the pivotal role that failure and derailment have played in getting us to where we are today. For Andrew, he at some point made the difficult decision to move countries, and leave the UK for France despite his permanent position there, and for me, well most of you know my story of how long-term illness forced me to pause my PhD for a very long time.

You can read our reflections in the journal, but I thought I’d summarise the article in a shorter advice format here. Here are 8 key lessons we learnt from navigating failure in academia:

1. Academia is not the meritocracy it claims to be. Don’t buy into the ‘myth of failure’ and internalise the belief that derailment or failure reflects on your capability or worth.
2. Research failure is normal and par for the course — don’t take it personally. (Easier said than done!!)
3. Academia tends not to be great at supporting its people. Incentive structures are often at odds with your wellbeing. Take care of yourself! It can be rough out there.
4. Understand the academic landscape. Questions to ask: what is valued, what isn’t, and how do I allocate my energy wisely? What do I need to say no to?
5. Academic networks are vital. Invest in building connections in your field.
6. Mentorship is crucial, especially early on. Sadly, mentorship is currently often not sufficiently supported and valued. Again, it’s not personal, but it has real consequences.
7. Failure and success are distributed unequally: intersectionality matters and survivorship bias is real.
8. And finally: you will need to draw on your creativity to navigate success and failure. (You can do this! I believe in you!)

To our credit we also managed to include a reference to the 1990s cult classic: Sliding Doors. We’re 90s kids what can I say?

If you’re struggling with any of the above know you’re not alone. If you need some support in all of this, I am available for 1:1 coaching and I would be delighted to work with you.

Pick the right supervisor.

It is THE power relationship that matters when you are writing a PhD, and its impact not only on your work and career, but also on your wellbeing should not be underestimated. If you are looking for a PhD position, don’t just start with the university, the reputation of the department or the field. People matter, and academia is built on personal networks. Being part of the right ecosystem so to speak, is everything.

I’ll tell you a story to illustrate.

I thought I had all this supervision business covered when I applied for my PhD position. I researched the person who would likely become (and in fact did become) my first supervisor ahead of time. He had worked very closely with a professor I knew well at my home university, a professor who had been a mentor figure for me and who I trusted. I had read the papers they had co-authored and they seemed interesting enough. My thought process was as follows: well, they seem to like each other, so he is probably a decent person, and they have written some interesting stuff together, so all will be good.

Not so.

Turns out he was a bully.

During our first ever group supervision meeting, he decided to put me down in front of my peers by saying: “I doubt you’re capable of producing one single coherent and rationally sound argument,” when I stumbled trying to answer one of his questions, after he had already made clear my PhD proposal did not fit into his idea of what political science was about.

Rather ironically, these group supervision meetings were an initiative to try to create a more supportive, collective supervision culture.

It worked in a way, I suppose: later that week at the bar (and after a couple of drinks) one of my colleagues remarked: “he is a pig to everyone, you know.”

I switched supervisors soon after and this man left no mark on my self-worth or the rest of my PhD trajectory. In a way him being so extreme made it easier to see the problem was entirely him. But I don’t even want to think about what it might have been like to have to complete a PhD under his ‘guidance’. As some of my colleagues would have to suffer through.

So, how to prevent supervision mishaps and disasters?

My advice would be to get in touch with a prospective supervisor’s current or past supervisees for a coffee and an informal chat and see what they have to say. Don’t be afraid to ask: this information is key! If you hear multiple negative stories, it’s an easy decision: don’t do it. Just don’t. There will be other, better opportunities for you, trust me here.

I may have a skewed perspective because I hear all the stories where things have not gone well, but my conclusion is that if you have ambitions in academia a supportive supervision relationship is one of the most important pieces to get right. (Support may mean different things to different people, but that’s a post all to its own.)

What are your thoughts on supervision? Any stories to share?

Cassandra’s PhD Tips:

1. Attention is My Prime Resource

   Attention is the PhD candidate’s prime resource. Attention is the power to get things done. Through attention, the student learns, researches, conceptualizes, writes, and finishes a dissertation. Yet, this same resource is the target of social media, news networks, politicians and political organizations, businesses, and nonprofit groups. The most crucial strategy for completing a PhD is to recognize attention as a precious, prime resource and treat it accordingly, by nurturing, protecting, and using it wisely.

   I nurture and strengthen my attention with three habits. First, I start each work session with a 2–5-minute meditation in which I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and relax. Second, I tighten my focus by committing to a single, 30-minute task: this unit of time always feels achievable to me, but it’s fine to exceed it (as I often do). Third, I prevent distractions automatically with the Freedom app on my computer and a Focus app on my phone, but with an extra twist. These apps are scheduled to start when I wake up, so my attention is not divided before my work even starts!

2. Uncomfortable Feelings Express my Core Values

   Fear and anxiety reveal that I’m concerned about compromising or losing something I value. Anger shows that something I value is threatened. Grief also expresses my core values. I grieve because I care, because something I value might be lost, has been lost, or has ended. This course has highlighted the importance of connecting our work to our values. And PhD work must sometimes be done in the midst of uncomfortable feelings. I’ve discovered that the uncomfortable feelings themselves are useful for revealing my core values if I lean in and listen to them.

   Three years ago, I lost my supervisor and my dissertation topic. I considered leaving my PhD. But then I realized that my intense grief and disappointment showed that I care deeply. If I care that much about my work, then it must arise from my core values. My work is worth cherishing and defending. I should fight for it! I took walks and wrote in a journal every day for three months while I found a new supervisor and a new topic. I acknowledged my feelings and honored them as part of my human experience, and I also honored their significance.

3. Five Elements of Smart Breaks

   All breaks are not created equal! My most effective breaks include one or more of these five elements: (1) My brain swings from focused mode to diffuse mode and relaxes, so that I can synthesize and make fresh connections; (2) I reward myself  just for working and re-establish a healthy work-reward balance; (3) I move my body, instead of continuing to sit; (4) I do sensory-rich activities, to counteract the chronic sensory deprivation of dissertation work; (5) I enjoy a taste of regular life, apart from my dissertation, to keep my sense of self distinct from my work and prevent academic tunnel vision!

   One easy way to push myself into a smart break is to stand up and look outside. I watch birds or clouds out a window, step out onto a balcony, or walk around the block. What can I notice? What do I see? What can I hear? How does the wind feel and smell? Suddenly, I feel more alive!

4. Use a Writer’s Day Book to Warm-up to Writing

   For the last several months, I have started most days by writing spontaneously in a Day Book, preferably over my first cup of coffee. I got the idea from The Essential Don Murray: Lessons from America’s Greatest Writing Teacher (Don Murray, 2009). My free-writing session lasts for 15-30 minutes. My one rule is that I write. This simple practice flips on a virtual switch in my brain. As I write whatever comes to mind, I let the emerging words lead and surprise me. Later, when it’s time to write for my dissertation, my brain is warmed up, humming, and more likely to generate ideas. It has been crucial for me to identify and use my own writing method, which is quite different from the writing methods of my supervisor and secondary readers.

   I prompt my Day Book entry with morning rituals. I make coffee, get a simple breakfast, check the sunrise, and play some classical music. With my first cup of coffee, I open my laptop to a Google Drive document or open a small journal, and I write whatever comes to mind. I just show up on the page and let the words happen. I practice the inductive writing method.

    

   

I could hear the debate in my mind, which wasn’t really about my own PhD, but about hers, which she too was trying to finish in difficult circumstances:

It may not be worth it, was a thought I had. When you’re facing something big (she was facing something big) you realise that the PhD isn’t that important. It doesn’t really matter whether you finish the project or not; the title mostly only matters within the narrow confines of academia. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter!

It may not be worth it, was a thought I had. More than two thirds of PhDs go on to find employment outside of academia anyway, and you may not need the title. And of the third that stay, most everyone seems to be stretched to the max, running around trying to get published and tick all the boxes. Although many academics love (parts of) their work, and many can’t see themselves doing anything else, so many are at maximum capacity, which is not necessarily a place you want to be.

It may not be worth it, I might have said. Quitting your PhD may be a wise decision, a courageous decision, and a decision that may work out in your favour in many ways.

But in the end my answer, the personal answer she asked for is unambiguous: it has been more than worth it to finish my PhD, and I can say that to be true even if it wouldn’t have helped me in doing the work I am doing with academics now (which it rather obviously does!).

It has been worth it for me, because it gave me a sense of achievement during a difficult time. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to finish, but I did it, and now it’s done! Finishing the thesis reminded me that I was capable and also that my work over the years had been valuable – even if only to me.

It has been worth it to celebrate the achievement, to not only start but to finish the project and to do so publicly. I could even argue it was worth it just to strut down the aisle at the Covento di San Domenico wearing a robe and hat and kitten heels, with a massive smile on my face, and drink prosecco with my pals afterwards to celebrate the occasion! Maybe that day alone made it worth it.

Fundamentally it was worth it for the simple reason that deep down I had a genuine desire to finish it. I wanted to see the project completed, that’s what it comes down to. I wanted to complete the thoughts I had started thinking and had mulled over for years; to complete the sentences, the arguments, the chapters. There is power in completion, and in this case, completion was for me. It was stimulating, it was exhausting, it was worth it.

When you look at the figures, they suggest that finishing a PhD is definitely worth it: one study shows that 85% of PhDs said that obtaining a PhD had had a positive influence on their career. People with PhDs tend to have the highest rates of employment of any of the professional categories. They earn more than others too. Now, although this is useful information in the sense that it is always good to know that finishing your PhD won’t harm and may enhance your career prospects, these figures say little beyond that blanket statement.

You are the only one who knows what is right for you, and if you would ask me for advice this is what I’d say:

You are capable of finishing your PhD if you desire to do so.

You do not have to finish: quitting your PhD can be a powerful move.

Do not take on academia’s perspective on ‘failure’: it is (they are) misguided.

Finishing your PhD can be an exhilarating experience (especially once it is done!)

What do you think: Is it worth it to finish your PhD?

I didn’t develop self-discipline necessarily. I opted for the easier way: to fight the bots with a bot so to say. I used an app called Freedom, which would block the Internet entirely, or certain sites that were difficult to resist. And difficult to resist they can be. There were three ways in particular being shielded from the online world helped.

1. A Morning Routine

   It helped me get going in the morning. Every morning I started writing/ work at 10:00, and making sure my computer would automatically go offline at that time helped tremendously in making that routine a habit. I remember the almost withdrawal-like effects when I first installed the app, the world becomes very quiet without our trusted online distractions. Suddenly you’re there with the blank page. And then you realise: this is exactly where I need to be. I need to be right here, right now with the black page. That’s the whole point of it! Over time my mind and mental habits adjusted and my brain’s inner alarm clock just knew it was time to start work, and time to focus. It becomes second nature. And not to make an ad of this blog post, but it feels like Freedom.

2. Staying with the Work When It’s Hard

   The first challenge is to actually sit down and think and write. The next challenge is to keep going when it feels difficult. And there are so many ways writing can feel difficult. Blessed are the days and weeks you have a clear idea of what you’re doing, and the writing trickles onto the page uninterrupted. It is more likely that you may think you have some relevant thoughts, but once you start putting them to paper they aren’t as coherent and brilliant as they seemed in your head. Thoughts are almost like dreams in that way: in the mind everything is possible but then try squeezing it into logically coherent sentences, in a logically coherent whole. Almost impossible! Right, do you have an impulse to check out yet?? Writing is emotionally difficult. We know writing and developing our concepts takes time, in fact it makes sense. But it is uncomfortable! Academic work is so slow. Could it be any slower?? So we need to help ourselves stay with the work, and the difficult feeling, instead of going off and checking Insta.

3. Develop Your Voice

   Finally, we need some help staying with our work. I always say: the ocean is vast. By that I mean: the ocean of the literature is vast and deep and at times perilous! Perilous in the sense that it can take us off course – you can sail absolutely everywhere, but it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily where you need or want to go! In fact it can take you entirely off track. Working offline for me meant that I didn’t go sailing off in any direction searching for new literature or references etc., drifting off along the way. Instead I worked with what I already knew in the mornings (I would have a few papers downloaded for reference), and if I was unsure of anything or I thought my sentence needed a reference, or I was sure someone or many people had written about this before, I would make a note, jot it down, and keep going! Keep going with my thoughts, my argument, immersed in what my paragraph or chapter was trying to do. Blocking out the internet helped me stay away from wasting hours on research that may not have been that useful. Of course, I would still need to do some of that research, but it would have to be done intentionally, once I had more of an overview, not when I bumped into a challenge or interesting thought or reference at sentence level. You need to prioritise, otherwise the ocean will swallow you whole!

Voilà, three reasons why it makes sense to block the internet: it will help you get started, keep going, and write something worthwile. Switch off for a couple of hours a day. Go old-school…

If this way of working appeals, consider joining the Stress-Free PhD Programme. Over the course of the programme you’ll develop new work habits that will allow you to finish any research project in far fewer hours a day. Definitely worth it.

As always, if you liked this post, share it? I appreciate it!

The party was organized by a professor friend with two teenage daughters who had pleaded with their dad: it would have to be a dancing party, not a sitting-down party (Dutchies, you will be familiar with ‘zitfeestjes’). Because they had already endured too many of their dad’s sitting-down parties this year and sitting-down parties are boring. Especially sitting-down parties with friends of their dad’s! (Insert eye-rolls here.) I didn’t attend these sitting-down parties, so I can’t say how bad they really were (though I tend to agree with the girls about ‘zitfeestjes’) but I was invited to this one where their houseboat’s living room had been cleared to make space for dancing.

After pouring the wine I was already almost toppling over. I concluded it wasn’t me, or the wine: this houseboat was definitely floating at an angle. Not quite Titanic-like, as we weren’t exactly going anywhere, nor were we sinking, hopefully, but there was a hint of drama in it, if you were willing to detect it.

I spotted an Italian friend, who introduced me to a former colleague of hers. He asked as you do at parties: how did we know each other? After a few seconds (‘How did we meet? It seems like a lifetime ago!) she shared that she had taken my online course and that we had kept in touch ever since. “Those writing tips I shared with you,” she said to him, “I learnt them from Amber’s course.” He nodded his head. When they worked at the same university, they had had many a conversation about staying the course with academic writing. “Those were really great tips!” he said.

The best one? Shorten your workday and work in small chunks!

Set boundaries around your writing time. Make it shorter than you think you need. Keep it sharp and snappy. Do not attempt to write for an entire day, or even an entire morning. Instead, use chunks of time: a couple of hours at a time max, interspersed with short breaks.

The colleague mentioned that the idea of shortening, instead of lengthening your day (always doing ‘more’) kind of revolutionized the way he writes. What an idea!

The second idea: match your work sessions to your focus and energy levels. Important and creative work first, always. Move that idea, those words, that paper ahead. Lots of energy today? Try slightly longer sessions. Running a bit low? Keep it tight. Make it doable: keep it fresh, do not let your energy drain.

Approaching your academic writing in this way will help you keep the momentum going.

Now, if you truly want to become unstoppable, have a look at the Stress-Free PhD Programme. It goes much deeper into all these ideas. Over the course of 6 weeks I will lead you through the process of developing your own, personalized, writing habit and workday. I share my stories and my process, and you will develop your own along the way. It will be fun (and useful!), come join me.

Academia is a challenging environment to perform and feel well in, most of the time. It can be a relief to realise that it is not some character flaw on your part that is causing you to feel like you may be stuck (or whatever other not so pleasant feelings you may be feeling): the odds are stacked against you in this environment. Once you realise how some of these mechanisms work it becomes easier to shrug your shoulders: it is not about you personally anymore. And at that point it also becomes easier to find ways of addressing your particular hurdle.

I received an email from a PhD who is taking my course, who mentioned it was so helpful to see it spelled out: to see exactly why academia may be making you feel stressed, overwhelmed and why you feel you might be underperforming: “My colleagues and I often tell ourselves it is not us and that it’s ’the system’, but it was really helpful to read in detail about why the academic set-up may be having such a negative effect on people.”

Oh academia, most confusing workplace of all, what do you do to us? Why and how do you make people feeling so stressed and miserable “doing what they love”?

In the course I tell a true story of how a number of promising economists selected by an elite US university — starting out bright-eyed, eager and ambitious, and ready to do “whatever it takes” — ended up underperforming to the point of it being a real challenge getting papers written at all, let alone published. The PhD finish line became increasingly out of reach. When I first heard the story it didn’t make sense…but it is a repeating theme I have seen (and experienced myself): very smart people starting to seriously struggle.

I won’t go into too much detail, as I want to keep things relatively short and snappy here, but I will say this: the current academic set-up is not designed to help you perform well (however you want to measure it…but that’s another story) or feel well. The human factor seems to be not factored in in the academic work process (rather a shame when you think of it!). Some of these features are intrinsic to writing a PhD/ doing academic work, but the stress factor has multiplied due to increased competition and wonky incentives in the system as a whole.

I started to understand this phenomenon when I started looking at it from a chronic stress perspective. In a nut-shell (summarising a whole field of study in three sentences), people get stressed when their efforts are not met with sufficient rewards. Additionally, people get stressed when they feel they are not in control of outcomes. Also: perfectionist tendencies (prerequisite for joining the academic tribe) intensify these stress levels. Being stressed out of your mind isn’t great for anyone.

Once you start counting the ways in which the ratio of effort and reward is skewed in academia, you will laugh or cry! Think of four years or more of work to finish a PhD. Think of how papers are received: the model is criticism (not always of the constructive kind). Think of how little mentoring and support there tends to be along the way, a trend intensified by the work pressure senior academics have to deal with. Think of the individualised culture. ‘Feeling valued’ is the best way to prevent stress and help people perform well, and academia isn’t that into it. (On the whole, structurally. Of course there are many wonderful people, supervisors, colleagues and so on who do support each other… I believe choosing the right supervisor and department is the absolute best advice anyone can give you when choosing to embark on a PhD.)

There will be more laughter and/or tears when you look at the control ratio. The PhD process is long and it isn’t linear, even though it is often conceptualised as such. By its very nature you are trying to do something new. It will not work out the way you thought it would (part of the process), and you will have to adapt along the way, repeatedly. There is nothing wrong with this: your research in all its twists and turns can be exciting, but stress and excitement are close cousins. Where I feel this goes wrong is once the process becomes arbitrary, and I would say that in the current set-up it has done so. In the hyper-competitive grant/ publication/ job market you have little control over outcomes.

The wonky control dynamic may also show up in a supervision context: your supervisor may not ‘get’ what you are trying to do, and give you unhelpful feedback (even though she or he is trying her best (or not…)). Being so dependent on one person isn’t a great model, stress-wise. Same as above: choosing the right supervisor goes a long way, but isn’t always feasible.

I could go on, but you get the idea… In sum: academia is a stressful environment. And although a burst of acute stress will help you finish that paper, chronic stress which we are talking about here is detrimental to academic performance and wellbeing. That’s what’s happening, and it’s why you may be feeling down or panicked or overwhelmed. It is both good and bad news. Good, because it’s not you (there is nothing wrong with you)! Bad, because it’s not you (you cannot fix the system as if by magic).

Once you know all of this it becomes possible to think out how you might address working in a less-than-ideal environment. You can find resources on this blog, in my free courses and, if you want to really dive in, in my online course. You can do this! First step, always remember: It is not you!

What I (re-)learned about writing this time around (aka: writing tips to finish your paper ASAP!)

1. Routine

Sorry, boring start to the day, but this is so incredibly necessary. By all means, if you are the person who writes whenever she feels like it, and it works well for you, do it that way. But chances are slim. Why? Because academic writing and difficult emotions go together. Why? Because academic writing is hard. Having a writing habit in place will catapult you right into it, where you want and need to be. If you write regularly, at set hours, you have cleared the most difficult hurdle: getting started. Start at 9:00 every day, sharp. Earlier if you are an early bird. Or at any other time, as long as you can be consistent. (For me, finishing my PhD it was always at 10:00. Some people have already put hours of work in by that time of day, but it worked very well for me. Two – three hours of focus is a lot, if you put these hours in consistently.)

2. Inspiration

The moment you start writing you realise the actual doing is more difficult than the thinking about writing! Blinking cursor alert! Urgh. So one option is to procrastinate. The second option is to hurl yourself over the barrier that separates you from that writing flow that is in there somewhere. A neat trick to do so is to get as inspired as you possibly can. What I suggest you do is to pull out a paper or book that is incredibly well-written or that has inspired your thinking about the topic you will be writing about. Or you could even pick a novel. It doesn’t really matter, as long as it has a rhythm or substance that gets you over your resistance. (For me, I when I was finishing a particularly difficult chapter of my PhD I used a book by Peter Mair. He was my supervisor, and an old-school academic. A writer more than a technician. He could definitely write an opening sentence. And when I would read it I would realise: yes, I can do this too!)

3. Lighten up and do it fast!

Okay, this one is a bit controversial. And during some stretches it will feel absolutely impossible! And yes, I am referring to that middle stretch where part of you is sure your work is never going to come together, and another part of you knows it will as long as you just keep pushing and plodding along. Which is what you are doing. Right in the middle of this, when fear and stubbornness are at full force, what would happen if you lighten up a bit? If you could add some quicksilver energy? I got this idea from the book ‘Big Magic – creative living beyond fear’ by Elizabeth Gilbert, and it works wonders. She calls it “the martyr vs the trickster” (p. 221), aka dying for your art vs gaming the system. When every word feels like a serious, difficult, impossible affair, are there ways to lighten up, speed up, do it quickly, or ‘not right?’ It may be the exact thing you need to get your ideas down, and for the writing pace to pick up. (You can go back and fix it later, but who knows you will find out there isn’t any fixing to be done!)

4. Take a break

Okay, so intervals tend to make an appearance in pretty much every blog post of mine, reason being: working in intervals works. Just a few days ago I got an email from a PhD I had a coaching session with, remarking how much working in intervals had improved her work. And her energy levels! Thing is, to work in intervals you need to take breaks. Proper breaks. And it gets so much more difficult when you are really under stress, and there is a deadline looming. Seems that procrastination while stubbornly sitting at your computer is the easier option. What if you do take a break? And make working in intervals a habit? You will gain control over your working hours (mental boost) and more chance of a writing flow, and new, fresh insights to happen. It’s the faster way.

5. Celebrate

Our brains have a negativity bias. That is, the regular person’s brain. Personally I think an academic’s brain will be about a thousand times worse. Trained to focus on what is lacking (gaps in the literature anyone??), what is wrong, what is insufficient. And we have criticism down to an art. Not necessarily criticism of the constructive kind! It was an eye-opener to me to work on a project with people outside of academia. They were trained to make the process as effortless as possible, to promote teamwork, to uplift each other, to keep moving. What a difference! So hopefully you have some of those colleagues, who do understand the value of support, around. But regardless of your peers and colleagues: how do you treat yourself? I say: celebrate every step of the way. And you don’t have to wait until you have submitted that paper. Finishing that paragraph is reason to celebrate too!