In the past, I didn’t take writing as seriously as I should have. I thought my job as a researcher was to design good studies, collect good data, and do good analysis. I even thought the most important part of research was the analysis. Writing, I assumed, was just the final step — something you do to share your findings and get them published.

I had read articles about academic writing before, but none of them truly changed how I viewed it.

That is, until I came across How to Be a Researcher by Jonathan St. B.T. Evans about a year ago.

This book reshaped how I think about writing. Evans doesn’t just offer research strategies, he shares his philosophy of doing research. I admired the way he approached research and thought to myself: “This is the kind of researcher I want to become.”

He emphasized one idea that stuck with me:

If you can master one essential task as a researcher, make it writing.

Since then, I’ve started taking writing seriously.

That one shift has opened many doors.

What Is Writing For ?

Before improving writing, I asked a simple question

What is writing really for?

To me, writing serves two main purposes:

1. To communicate with others — its social function.
2. To communicate with yourself — its thinking function.

The first is obvious: writing books, papers, or articles to share with others. But not all writing is meant to be read by others. Some of the most important writing we do is for ourselves. We write to clarify our thoughts.

For researchers, this second function is vital. Clear writing reflects clear thinking. Writing is thinking.

Even in the age of Generative AI, we can’t outsource all writing. Because we can’t outsource all thinking. If we want to grow as researchers, we must grow our thinking.

Writing Begins Before You Write

I also realized that: Writing is not just writing.

Putting words on paper (or screen) is only the final step. Writing begins long before that. Writing starts with:

• Reading
• Thinking and,
• Understanding

I call this the pre-writing stage.

This insight I learned from How to Take Smart Notes by Sönke Ahrens (I wrote a short book review about this book in the blog.)

If I want to write better, I must read better, think better, and understand better.

So I began to improve each part of this process.

How I’m Improving Each Stage

Whenever I want to improve a skill, I follow a simple strategy:

1. Learn how to do it right
2. Build a routine to practice until it becomes part of me

1. Reading

To read better, first, I need to learn to do it right. So, how to read well?

I found my answer in the classic How to Read a Book by Mortimer Adler and Charles Van Doren. It breaks reading into four levels (elementary reading, inspectional reading, analytical reading, and syntopical reading) and teaches techniques for each. The most powerful idea I took from it:

The first step in reading is not reading. It’s questioning.

Now, before reading any book or research paper, I make a note with two questions:

1. What questions do I hope this book will answer?
2. After reading, did it answer them? What are the key takeaways?

I return to this note after finishing the book to reflect and review. 
This questioning helps me read with purpose.

To make reading a habit, I’ve built a daily reading routine:

• 30–60 minutes in the morning before work
• 30–60 minutes at night
• And anytime I find small gaps throughout the day

Reading has become the foundation of my writing.

2. Thinking

Next, how do you think better?

That’s a tough one.

To search for the answer to this question, I began exploring “mental models” in thinking. I discovered this concept through my husband, who introduced me to The Great Mental Models vol.1 by Shane Parrish.

Since then, I’ve also read The Great Mental Models vol. 2, Clear Thinking (also by Shane Parrish), and re-read Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniele Kahneman. I‘ve learned tools to reason more clearly, avoid common thinking traps, and make better decisions. That’s what I’ve learn. But thinking is not a one-time lesson. It’s a lifelong learning and practice. I remind myself: It’s not a destination — it’s a journey. Just keep reading, keep learning, keep thinking. That, in itself, is a joy.

And what’s my routine for thinking?

Writing.

It might sound like a loop — because it is.

Writing improves thinking. And thinking improves writing.

Writing journals, notes, and blog posts daily helps me organize my thoughts, test my reasoning, and spot weak logic.

3. Understanding

How do you know you really understood something?

From Adler and Doren’s How to Read a Book, I learned two tests of understanding:

1. You can explain the idea in your own words
2. You can give a new example — ideally one that’s relevant to your life or work

And from Richard Feynman, a reminder:

“The first principle is that you must not fool yourself — and you are the easiest person to fool.”

True understanding takes honesty and effort. Be honest to yourself whether you understand or not.

4. Writing

To improve my writing itself, I turned to On Writing Well by William Zinsser. It’s a timeless guide on how to write clearly, simply, and with style.

But the best way to improve writing is writing. You need to write. Routinely.

That’s why I write posts like this one.

As Scott Adams says in the book Tools of Titans by Tim Ferriss, writing is a system. The more you do it, the better you become.

The more I write, the more I understand how powerful writing is — not just in research, but in life.

Final Thoughts

Writing is more than a skill. It’s a tool for learning. A tool for thinking. A tool for growing.

The more I learn writing, the more it shapes how I read, how I think, and how I understand the world.

And with each routine I build, I grow.