Let me just start by saying: if writing academic essays ever feels like dragging your brain through treacle while trying to sound like a half functioning philosopher… same. Welcome to the club

As a postgrad student who’s been through many deadlines, meltdowns, and “I swear I’ll start tomorrow” moments, I thought I’d share my real process for planning and writing academic essays, without (completely) losing my mind.

Beware: caffeine is involved. So is mild panic. And yes, at least one existential crisis per essay.

Step 1: Read the Brief (Seriously. Read it.)

You’d think this one would be obvious, but let’s not pretend we haven’t all skimmed the assignment once and just… guessed the rest.

Now, older and wiser (ish), I make a point of really reading the question. I highlight keywords. I re-read the learning outcomes. Because understanding what they’re asking saves lives, and by lives, I mean hours of rewriting.

Tip for ya: Ask yourself: What kind of question is this? Am I analysing? Evaluating? Arguing? If you’re unsure, ask. Professors don’t bite. (Usually.)

Step 2: Research Mode (A Beautiful Mess)

This is where I fall down the academic rabbit hole and suddenly I’m reading a 2003 paper from a professor who probably doesn’t even remember writing it. thinking, it might be relevant.

I usually start with the university library database, then sprinkle in a bit of Google Scholar magic. I’m a fan of downloading PDFs like I’m collecting Pokémon “gotta catch ’em all”, right?

Organisation-wise, I try to save my sources in folders or use Zotero. Realistically? I end up with 37 tabs open and no memory of which article said what. But eventually, a pattern starts forming. My brain clicks. The fog lifts. Sort of.

Reminder to future me: Save the references as you go. No one wants to hunt for that quote at 1AM the night before submission.

Step 3: Outlining (My Sanity Saver)

Once I have a rough idea of what I’m arguing, I write a skeleton outline. Nothing fancy. Just headings like:

• Introduction
• Point One (with supporting studies)
• Point Two (where I get all critical and clever)
• Point Three (bringing it home)
• Conclusion. Sweet and cute

Honestly, even scribbling bullet points on a scrap of paper helps. It makes the essay feel doable, instead of one giant terrifying blob of intellectual pressure.

Fun fact: I never stick to the outline 100%, but just having one stops me from spiralling.

Step 4: Writing (The Chaos Phase)

This is where the magic (and breakdowns) happen.

I never write in order. I usually start with the body paragraphs, they feel less intimidating than the intro. Then I’ll tackle the intro once I know what the heck I’m actually saying. The conclusion? That gets written after a snack and a quick cry.

Writing happens in bursts. Sometimes I’m flying. Other times, I stare at the screen like a goldfish. When I get stuck, I walk around my living room talking to myself like a mad academic ghost.

 Survival tip: The Pomodoro technique works wonders. 25 minutes writing, 5 minutes break. Repeat until something vaguely brilliant appears.

Step 5: Editing (Where It Starts to Sound Like Me (But Smarter)

I come back to the draft with fresh eyes. I read aloud. I cut the waffle. I make sure I haven’t repeated “this essay will argue…” 14 times.

Then it’s citation time. APA? MLA? I just follow what they ask, curse my past self for not writing references as I went, and get it done.

Clean-up checklist:

• Flow? (done)
• Word count? (ish) (done)
• Referencing? (done)
• Vibe check? (done)

Step 6: Submission (Pressing “Submit” and Letting Go)

I hover over the button like I’m launching a space mission. I triple check everything. Then I submit it… and collapse into a pile of toast crumbs and relief.

And yes, I overthink it for the next two days. But also? I celebrate, even if it’s just with a solo dance party in my kitchen, or take myself to afternoon tea with a book.

 Post submission ritual: Say “never again,” immediately start the next essay two days before it’s due, repeat forever.

Final Thoughts (AKA Emotional Support for Fellow Essay Survivors)

Look, academic writing isn’t always pretty. It’s messy, frustrating, and weirdly rewarding. But it’s yours. Your thoughts. Your voice. Your effort. So if you’re reading this while procrastinating on your own essay,  go make a cup of tea, breathe, and remind yourself: you’ve done this before, and you’ll do it again.

You’ve got this.

What’s your essay writing routine? Do you write with grace or chaos (or both)?

For those who wondering: I am doing my masters in psychology at the university of Liverpool.

Okeh loads of Luv

Hannah