Reflections On Writing Blog: Thoughts, Tips, and Suggestions

Good Writing and the Sense of Purpose

What makes someone a “good writer”?

Do you know any writers who just want to impress people, right? Who don’t think they have anything important to say? (image: author)

What makes a writer a good writer?

Part of the answer to that question is that a good writer produces manuscripts that are well written. But that leads to another question: what makes a manuscript well written? What makes a manuscript “good writing”?

One way to assess “good writing” is to ask whether it serves the purpose for which it was created. In this story I want to pursue that idea a little in the direction of “what kinds of purposes do writers have?” This isn’t the only way to evaluate writing, but it is an evaluation that is often ignored.

What’s the problem?

In an article titled “Why Academics Stink at Writing,” Steven Pinker closes by arguing, “In writing badly, we are wasting each other’s time, sowing confusion and error, and turning our profession into a laughingstock.”

But none of those problems strike me as particularly compelling.

Are there academics wasting time on confusing writing? Yes, but how much of that confusion is due to the difficulty of the underlying questions and how much is due to poor writing?

Are there papers that sow confusion and error? Yes, but that’s as much a product of bad reasoning as it is of bad writing: we can sow confusion and error by writing poorly or by reasoning poorly. For example, I would argue that Pinker’s article sows error by suggesting that poor style is the big problem in academic writing, when the real problem behind bad academic writing is poor reasoning. (Sure, bad prose can confuse good reasoning, but good prose can never salvage poor reasoning. People who have reasoned clearly are more likely to write clearly as a result of the clear reasoning.)

Is poor writing responsible for academia being turned into a laughingstock? No. Poor writing may contribute to efforts to make academia a laughingstock, but as Pinker himself describes in his book Enlightenment Now!, there are anti-intellectual political, social forces outside academia that benefit if they can turn academia into a laughingstock. Even if all academics were great writers, there would still be people in the world doing their best to turn academia into a mockery. The quality of the prose used in highly specialized academic journals has little to do with that. Fox News doesn’t need poorly written journal articles to get people to reject academics; all they need is a soundbite.

The real problem

There is important knowledge that is being lost due to bad writing, but it’s a very different kind of bad writing than Pinker is talking about. And it’s a kind of “bad writing” that is not limited to academia.

The real problem of “bad writing” is all that is lost because so many people struggle to write.

The struggle to write is a huge problem in academia, where nearly half of people who become doctoral candidates fail to become doctors because of the difficulty of writing. And where aspiring professors fail to get jobs or promotions because they don’t write enough.

But the struggle to write is also a larger human problem: people struggle to express themselves and develop themselves. They want to share their ideas and stories, but writing is a barrier.

Difficulties that arise due to bad perspectives on writing, rob the world of human insight in academia, entertainment, and the arts.

Writing is hard

No one becomes a good writer without working at it. I believe in the necessity of practice. I also believe in the positive benefits of practice, even when the writing itself doesn’t go well.

But writing becomes a lot harder when you’re going about it wrong. 
If you’re putting your efforts into the wrong thing, then it’s much harder to benefit from the efforts you put in.

If your writing practice isn’t producing enough benefits, it’s hard to keep it going. And if you don’t keep it going, then your personal brilliance is lost.

What’s your purpose in writing?

There are lots of reasons to write, and most writers have several. We write to share our stories, to educate, to entertain, to advance in our careers, and, if we’re lucky, to gain fame and fortune. Immortality, of sorts, if that’s what you’re looking for.

This story grew out of my response to the idea that some writers are writing to impress others. Pinker and other academics complain (quite reasonably) about academic writers who choose difficulty language to impress others with their brilliance. But that’s a small slice of writers, I think. And even for the writers who are trying to impress, that’s a small slice of motivation.

Writers who want to impress others also want jobs and recognition; they don’t just want to impress, they want to impress so they’ll get something.

And, flipping that around, people who write because they want something — someone who writes to educate and help others, for example — also want to impress people, at least to the extent that people feel that it’s worth their time to read the piece, and maybe apply the ideas.

When I write to help other writers, my ultimate goal isn’t to impress, but I would like to impress you enough that you believe it’s worth trying what I suggest.

The most difficult part of writing

The hardest part of writing is having something worth saying. If you don’t have that, it’s hard to do any good writing. This is where the sense of purpose comes in. The clearer your sense of purpose, or your sense of your many overlapping purposes, the easier it is to find words to say.

It’s not hard to write to your friend to say “Let’s get together this weekend.” That’s a clear sense of purpose. And it’s also done in a context where the writer isn’t worried about criticism.

When the message gets more complex, and more doubtful, however, it’s hard to figure out what we want to say. Put that into a context where you’re worried about “good style,” and the work of writing becomes much harder.

Style interferes with Content

Content is hard. And it is the top priority. Many writers, however, start worrying about style before they even know what they want to say. That’s a huge barrier.

If you’re trying to figure out what your academic argument is, or your fictional plot and characterization, or your poetic expression, worrying that your language isn’t stylish enough is a distraction.

Does style ever distract you from the story that you really want to be telling? (image: author)

None of this is to say that style is unimportant. Style is important. But the ideas are more important. And the sharing of ideas is more important, even if the style is rough. Better a well-reasoned, poorly written argument than a beautifully written but poorly reasoned one.

Knowing what you want to say is an important form of self-knowledge

Diversity offers all sorts of new and exciting ideas. Diversity, however, does not grow out of people sitting passively listening to others; diversity grows from people trying to understand and express themselves.

Good writing is writing that helps you understand and achieve your purposes.

There’s a lot more to say about “good writing,” and what it can mean. But it starts with you, the writer, expressing yourself and what you care about.

Good writing has a purpose and fulfills that purpose.

This essay was originally published on Medium. Check out my work there!

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Self-Knowledge is a Practice, Not an End

We never go down to the same stream twice (Heraclitus).
We never go down to the same stream twice. (Helen Wilkinson / Stream / CC BY-SA 2.0 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Stream_-_geograph.org.uk_-_501130.jpg)

About 25 centuries ago, the motto “Know Thyself” (Greek: Γνῶθι σεαυτόν, gnōthi seauton) was inscribed at the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in Greece. It is advice that has retained its value. Indeed, in a world in which we are bombarded by different media voices telling us that we should want this or that, the ability to know the self becomes more difficult.

Working on understanding myself

I continue to work on understanding myself. In service of that aim, I explore my own perspective on development of self-knowledge through writing, which I share with you here.

Focusing inward; temporarily ignoring external voices

Others have explored the idea of self-knowledge before me, but I want to look inside myself for my answers. I don’t want to be swayed by other voices, even though I have been shaped by them, and their ideas will likely come to mind, even if I mistake them for my own.

Although self-knowledge can grow by listening to others (indeed, the ideas of others are invaluable), until we look for answers inside ourselves, we have only the competing voices of others, each claiming a truth that we may or may not understand.

We want to find our own truth, even though our own truth is likely to change over time.

Self-knowledge is valuable

Self-knowledge supports good decisions. Self-knowledge protects you from the manipulations of others. Self-knowledge, though sometimes challenging, also supports mental health. At least, that is the view of existential psychology like that expressed by Viktor Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning.

But the Delphic Oracle’s recommendation already implies the value of self-knowledge, so I don’t want to expend my effort arguing for it. I’m more interested in the process.

Self-knowledge is complex

We are all complex. We have many traits and many desires. We live in complex contexts, creating a variety of different identities: the person we are with our mother is not the person we are with our boss, our school friend, our casual acquaintance, or our pet.

This complexity cannot be encompassed in any single moment. Even in a single role, we are complex: in trying to explain ourselves to our mother, we see a variety of traits and attitudes. In conversations with our mother, we might explore our self-confidence, our ethical and moral values, and our desires. None of those are simple.

And in different roles, we see bigger changes. The intelligence and confidence we feel, and which is “true” to us, when speaking with our mother may be replaced by self-criticism when speaking with a supervisor (or vice versa).

We always change

If we change, then our self-knowledge changes, too. Heraclitus famously said “No one ever steps into the same river twice,” implying not only the constant change in the river, but the constant change in the person who steps into the river.

People change constantly. We learn. We experience. We feel. And our experience changes how we respond to things. We learn to like things that seemed unpleasant (coffee, for example); we get bored with things that were once exciting; we learn to appreciate that which we disdained, and vice versa. As a writer, my work constantly challenges my understanding of the world: every new sentence offers new perspectives.

The practice

Because there is no final destination in the search for self-knowledge, we cannot complete the process of knowing ourselves. What we can do is keep working at it; we can practice self-knowledge.

Many practices involve self-knowledge. Yoga and meditation may not be centered on self-knowledge, but they demand it. Regular prayer is often a practice in understanding hopes and fears, things for which we are grateful and things that upset us. Athletic practices require understanding of one’s body and abilities. To excel in any area, self-knowledge is necessary to identify strengths, weaknesses, and opportunities for and means of improvement.

Gentle practice

Because there is no final destination, there is no need to rush. We don’t need a difficult or punitive practice; we need a practice that we continue to practice. As long as we continue, we continue to grow and learn, and our ability increases.

With a gentle practice, it’s easier to develop a positive relationship with the practice. Instead of pushing yourself to the point of pain or frustration, you go in looking for the enjoyment and keep on only as long as it feels good.

If you develop your practice gently, you will likely find that you come to enjoy the challenges. “No pain, no gain,” is vastly different in gentle practice because the motivations and experiences are positive, so some discomfort and frustration are welcomed for the benefit that accompanies them.

We are neurophysiological beings

Practice alters our neurophysiology. When we repeat things, they become easier, more familiar, more comfortable. Repetition builds neurophysiological circuits. The more we think about any subject, including ourselves, the more neurophysiology we have to support thinking, in general, and specifically. If you have an insight about yourself and you explore that insight, neural circuits develop.

Writing exercises

As a writer and writing coach, I like written exercises, especially easy ones that can be fun or calming. This story, like many that I write, was itself an exercise in self-knowledge.

Practices like a gratitude journal, to-do lists, or lists of hopes/desires can all be done easily: we just jot down a few words. I write all the time, and all writing offers a chance at self-exploration, so I don’t use these different exercises all the time. But whenever I don’t have a writing goal in mind, I do one of these. My gratitude journal is just a list of “I’m thankful for [something]. To-do lists and lists of goals are even simpler: just bullet points, often single words.

All of these practices can help me calm myself: rather than my thoughts racing and building anxiety, the focus on a list, especially a list of good things or potential good things, settles me, and allows me to take care of small steps that move me towards my larger goals.

Do you have any practices that build self-knowledge? What small steps can you take to build self-knowledge through practice?

Sailing into the Wind, or Writing against Resistance

The Fastest Route Forward is not Necessarily the Most Direct

The boat in the foreground is tacking into the wind. The boat in the background left is sailing downwind using a spinnaker. (image: Johann-Nikolaus Andreae [https://www.flickr.com/photos/jnandreae/] from https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:420er_003.jpg)

Sailboats can’t sail directly into the wind. To sail upwind, they tack — they sail at angles to the wind, zigzagging back and forth, moving far off the direct course they wish to set, so that they can make progress in the face of the wind’s resistance. It’s not the shortest route in terms of distance traveled, but it will get you there. Sailing directly into the wind won’t.

image: author

What’s the quickest route to a complete draft? Will you complete a draft more quickly by writing only the draft? Or can you speed completion of the draft by doing writing exercises that aren’t included in the draft?

Last Thursday, while talking with a writer who spoke of hitting a variety of points of resistance. In response, I suggested a handful of different exercises, and recommended approaching the exercises as standing outside the book they’re writing: “Don’t worry about fitting it into your manuscript,” I said. “Just explore and understand the concern that’s interrupting your flow.” This suggestion worried them: “I’m trying to write a book; these exercises don’t advance my manuscript” (paraphrase).
But the fastest route to a complete first draft manuscript may not be through an unrelenting focus on the manuscript.

Complete first drafts are good

If you want to write something, it’s great to hammer out a first draft that gives you a sense of the overall scope of the work, even if that first draft is low quality.. If you are making good progress towards such a draft, then keep at it. But what if you’re getting stuck on that first draft?

Measuring the distance to a first draft

When we’re writing a draft, there are basically to ways to measure how long it takes: the amount of time it takes, and the number of words we write to get the complete draft done. Most people are consciously more concerned with the first: “Of course I want to get it done as soon as possible.” But the second measure often comes into play unconsciously: “Writing more words takes longer; writing an exercise delays progress on the draft.”

But writing more words doesn’t necessarily take longer. It depends on the relative pace of writing.

What’s your writing speed?

At the small scale — in the course of a single writing session — most of us write at a variable pace: sometimes, things flow quickly; other times, we struggle over a single word.

Whether you’re the kind of person who writes a page each day or ten pages, you will have moments when the words are flowing smoothly and others when you’re sticking.

When you’re getting stuck, an exercise that gets your words flowing more quickly can be worth the time it takes. If you write 1,000 words on a good day, and you’re currently getting bogged down on individual sentences, then n exercise that lets you write more quickly might be worth the effort.

Exercises to get around points of resistance

If you’re making great progress on your manuscript, maybe there’s no need for you to do any exercises.

But if you’re feeling stuck for some reason, a writing exercise to explore that feelings and ideas where resistance arises.

Exercises increase in value as the emotional weight of the resistance increases. If you’re sinking into despair looking at your manuscript, an exercise is an opportunity to step away from the larger project and explore possibilities for a single sentence or passage.

Lexical Resistance

One concern expressed by this writer was uncertainty about use of certain terms: “I’m using words X, Y, and Z because they’re common in the literature in my field, but I have some reservations about their use.”

I differentiate this from resistance to jargon: resistance to jargon is a stylistic consideration (“This term will be hard to read for many”), while the lexical resistance to which I refer here is a theoretical concern (“This term has connotations that are problematic”).

Uncertainty Resistance

Another concern expressed by this writer was the desire to do more reading to strengthen their understanding of the academic discourse in which they are participating.

As a general matter, I encourage people to write on the basis of what they already know and have already read, because so many academics get stuck with the feeling that they don’t know enough, even when they have lots of knowledge already.

But it’s not good to fight through resistance too much, either: the practice of research benefits from positive emotional states. In this kind of situation, the exercise I recommend is to take a few minutes before reading to write briefly about why you want to read a specific source, what you’re looking for in it, and how that source relates to other sources that you have read or might want to read in the future. By giving yourself permission to read, you reduce emotional resistance to writing. By writing about what you want to read and why, you’re focusing your own ideas and developing your own vision of both a larger theoretical discourse and the place of a specific work in that discourse.

Stylistic resistance

I’ve worked with other writers who would get stuck on stylistic issues. “I don’t like my use of jargon here,” or “I don’t like the sentence structure,” could often become harrowing dives into the depths of frustration and despair about her ability as a writer.

Exercises like rewriting a sentence several times with different structure and different words may not feel like a direct contribution to the manuscript — “I’m going to throw away most of what I write in the exercise” — but if you find one good version of the sentence, isn’t that worth the effort that went into writing the versions you don’t use?

Exercises can interrupt the flow of big ideas

When we write, what really matters is the big picture we’re trying to create. As we write, we want to be focused on the big picture, so that each individual sentence contributes meaningfully to that big picture. 
If the big ideas are flowing, it’s good to stay with them and to try to step around resistance by just moving on to the next big point. I wouldn’t recommend breaking the flow to work on an exercise. But if resistance is keeping you out of the flow, then it’s time for exercises.

Exercises give you insight into your writing project. They don’t need to contribute directly to help you make progress. If you’re facing resistance, exercises allow you to approach the resistance at an angle, like the sailor, who makes progress zigzagging from side to side, rather than trying to advance directly into the resistance.

Interesting? Helpful? Buy me a coffee!

Originally posted at https://medium.com/@thoughtclearing/sailing-into-the-wind-or-writing-against-resistance-772a82d121df

Several More University Libraries Recommending My Book

In late 2024, I first discovered that many university libraries were recommending my book Literature Review and Research Design: A Guide to Effective Research Practice.

I recently looked to see whether that had changed. The libraries that had previously featured my book were still recommending it. And I found a few additions to the list:

It’s nice to be recognized! I worked hard on that book. I had novel perspectives that could help early career scholars, and it’s nice that other people think so, too.

The Opportunity in Gratitude Journals

Finding the good; Avoiding the bad

Gratitude Journal, April 30, 2026 (image: author)

A few days ago, I read an article about gratitude journals that brought me back to the idea that we deal with things very differently depending on whether we see an opportunity (and a choice) or we see an obligation. The article opened with the author mentioning a friend who expressed scorn for gratitude journals, which led to explicit and implicit engagement with the question of obligation and opportunity.

The author’s criticisms and recommendations suggested to me that the general frame used was one of obligation. To me, the problems identified were generally tied to obligation framing. Since the practice of gratitude journaling has been a tremendous support for me, I wanted to put in some good words for gratitude journals and explore the the way framing as obligation or opportunity impacts the use of the tool.

Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional. The discussion here is based on personal experience and a brief literature review.

Obligation Framing

The very first sentence explicitly gives us an obligation frame: “A few weeks ago, a friend mentioned she was dealing with depression and had to start journaling” (emphasis added). Later, the author wrote “pushing them at the wrong person can backfire.”

The obligation frame also seemed implicit in the comment that “Ten things is too many. The sweet spot. . . is three. Three things feels achievable even on bad days, without triggering the performance anxiety that a longer list creates.” The idea that the gratitude journal sets a target — the “right” number of responses — is essentially an obligation framework.

The author also mentions the possibility of a negative feedback loop that follows from a sense of obligation:

producing a list of everything you have to be grateful for and still feeling terrible can deepen the shame spiral rather than interrupt it. . . . the message can quietly shift from “here’s something that might help” to “your failure to feel better is a gratitude deficit.” That’s not just ineffective. For some people, it makes things worse.

In addition to the obligation issues mentioned by the author, a little literature search revealed another dimension of obligation that can arise in gratitude journals: the sense of indebtedness. (1) When gratitude shifts to indebtedness, a sense of obligation is introduced. With gratitude, there’s no need to respond; with indebtedness, there is. A no-strings-attached gift comes with no obligations; a “gift” that creates obligatory indebtedness isn’t really a gift at all; it’s a transaction, an exchange.

As the author correctly observed: pushing stuff at people (i.e., creating an obligation) can backfire. People view obligations with resentment. Getting people to resent stuff doesn’t seem like the best path towards greater mental health. So if gratitude journaling is accompanied by a strong sense of obligation, that’s a sign to skip the journal, or at least rethink your reasons for doing it.

Opportunity

The emotional landscape changes when we view something as an opportunity instead of an obligation. There is a vast emotional difference between being ordered to do something and choosing to do that thing. Thinking “I can do a gratitude journal if I want” is very different from thinking “I should do a gratitude journal.”

For me, writing a gratitude journal is not an obligation. I first adopted the practice because of the extensive research that suggests that gratitude contributes to better mental health, and I want to break my cycles of negative rumination. Having already benefited from cognitive behavioral work, and believing in the importance of developing new patterns of neural activation through practice, I felt that long-term, repeated work on a gratitude journal would help strengthen my positive gratitude neurology while also giving less fuel to the negative neurology.

As a writer with a good relationship with writing (I usually feel better for writing, even when the writing doesn’t go well), the gratitude journal is also accessible: I don’t struggle to write stuff and don’t have bad feelings about writing stuff. On days when I am struggling to write more significant projects, the gratitude journal is a good way to get started. I can write in my journal until some other idea comes to me.

Academic research

A quick review of academic literature shows that gratitude journals generally show modest positive effects. A 2025 meta-analysis stated: “We found that gratitude interventions led to small overall increases in well-being,” (2) and a 2020 study said “Our results suggest the effects of gratitude interventions on symptoms of depression and anxiety are relatively modest.” (3)

With results like this, we cannot expect gratitude journals to resolve our mental health issues. But then what single therapeutic modality does that?

The fact that gratitude journals have even a small impact suggests their value as one potential tool in a wider toolbox of approaches, with due caution for potential adverse impact. And it should be noted that neither of the surveys mentioned any negative impact of using gratitude interventions, including in cases where some negative emotions are present:

prior research has indicated that Asians tend to experience not only positive emotions but also negative emotions (e.g., indebtedness, guilt), when expressing gratitude toward someone rather than something…Although most types of gratitude interventions generally enhanced well-being, expressing gratitude to others (e.g., writing a gratitude letter) did not yield a statistically significant effect. [2] emphasis added

Indebtedness

A study examined the possibility that gratitude interventions triggered feeling of indebtedness (a negative psychological impact). (1) The study compared Korean and American (US) participants, with Koreans generally expressing more indebtedness. And it compared American participants expressing gratitude for people and those expressing gratitude for non-people, with those expressing gratitude for people feeling more indebtedness.

With this information, we can approach gratitude journals with greater knowledge into what will be effective. We might, for example, limit our gratitude journal to inanimate objects or events (e.g., I’m thankful for this coffee; I’m thankful the sun is shining), or we might try to separate out the emotional threads of gratitude and debt: “I’m very thankful for my mother, and I also feel indebted to her.” A separation like that might allow a person to focus on the gratitude without getting dragged down by the indebtedness. People do separate such emotional complexity all the time. It might be an experiment to try (if you’re already interested in trying a gratitude journal): does a feeling of indebtedness come along with expressing gratitude for a person? If the exercise is unpleasant, don’t force yourself into it. You don’t have to do gratitude journals.

Opportunity, not Obligation

As discussed above, when we have a choice, we feel better. Don’t do a gratitude journal because it’s being forced on you. Do it because you think it might be something small and easy that can help in the long term.

Long-term Practice

For me, gratitude journaling is a long-term practice that has been with me a long time. When I have moments of difficulty, it’s often useful to write in my gratitude journal: It’s helped me feel better in the past; it helps me calm down and look past the present “disaster” that looms in my life.

One of the surveys noted “many researchers argue that seemingly small effects can lead to significant consequences over time and at scale…. Therefore, when practiced regularly in daily life, the effects of gratitude interventions could be nontrivial.” (2)

Conclusion

If you’re interested in trying a gratitude journal, you should try it. There are reasons to believe they can help you feel better. They often help me feel better. Expecting them to resolve all your problems is too much to ask, but they’re low risk.

And, of course, don’t do them if you feel like you’re acting out of obligation. If a gratitude journal feels difficult or annoying or frustrating, that’s a sign to look for other tools.

References

(1) Oishi, S., Koo, M., Lim, N. and Suh, E.M. (2019). When Gratitude Evokes Indebtedness. Appl Psychol Health Well-Being, 11: 286–303. https://doi.org/10.1111/aphw.12155

(2) H. Choi, Y. Cha, M.E. McCullough, N.A. Coles, & S. Oishi. (2025). A meta-analysis of the effectiveness of gratitude interventions on well-being across cultures, Proc. Natl. Acad. Sci. U.S.A. 122 (28) e2425193122, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2425193122

(3) Cregg, D.R., Cheavens, J.S. Gratitude Interventions: Effective Self-help? A Meta-analysis of the Impact on Symptoms of Depression and Anxiety. J Happiness Stud 22, 413–445 (2021). https://doi.org/10.1007/s10902-020-00236-6

This story was initially posted on Medium: https://thoughtclearing.medium.com/the-opportunity-in-gratitude-journals-f1a65ed2f93c

Can Large Language Models Think?

Revisiting the Turing Test in the Age of LLMs

NASA Computer Room (ca. 1958). (https://catalog.archives.gov/id/278195)

In his famous article “Computing Machinery and Intelligence” (1), Alan Turing proposed “the imitation game” as a way to address the question “can machines think?” The basic concern of the imitation game is whether a computer can hold a conversation with a person without the person knowing whether they’re conversing with a person or a computer.
Today, with the growth and deployment of LLMs, it is clear LLMs are capable of having conversations that are accepted by humans as comparable to human conversation. There are many people who would ay that LLMs are intelligent.

But this just returns us to the earlier question: what does it mean to think? Or, alternatively, what does it mean to be intelligent?

Detecting LLMs

For many, LLM detection is important. Teachers, unsurprisingly, are concerned that their students are using LLMs to do homework rather than doing the homework themselves. On Reddit, I’ve seen academics lamenting both that articles they’re reviewing might be LLMs and that the reviews they’ve received on their submissions were generated by LLMs. Such behavior reflects a lamentable decay of academic standards (a decay, IMO, more about the general decline of support for academia than about professors acting in bad faith: professorial workloads are, as far as I can tell, absurdly high).

Many people say that they can recognize LLM output because of clues like use of em-dashes, bullet lists, and lack of minor grammatical errors. Recently, I read an article (can’t remember where) that talked about people in positions of power who are intentionally making errors in their writing so that their work is not mistaken for AI.

Personally, I don’t try to detect LLM use, and I certainly don’t assume LLM use due to types of punctuation that have been used by good writers for long years before LLMs were ever a thing. I am 100% confident that Laurence Sterne did not use an LLM to write The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (2) in the 18th century. But he sure does use a lot of em-dashes (whether they were called as “em-dashes” at the time is a historical fact I’ve not researched), and my writing is influenced by Sterne and other old writers.

Does the Source Matter if Quality is Low?

Recently, I got some unhelpful feedback on a manuscript. One of my first thoughts was that it had been generated by an LLM, and two people to whom I lamented the situation both immediately said (paraphrasing) “That was an LLM.” Although I agree, it seems to me that the real problem was that the feedback did not do anything to help me improve my manuscript. It was not intelligent feedback in the sense that it did not address the question that was asked. (I specifically asked “do the diagrams I’ve added improve my manuscript or should I remove them” and got the response “simple diagrams can be very useful in a book like this,…I would favor keeping them where they clarify process, decision points, or distinctions that are harder to grasp quickly in prose.” That’s all reasonable, but it’s not an answer focused on my specific manuscript; it’s just a general principle.)

On Reddit, I’ve seen people say “I was reviewing an article that I think was an LLM. It had the following problems… How should I respond?” My thought is always: “If the quality of the article is low, then just point out the problems; point out the ways that the reasoning is unintelligent, and leave it at that.” Why worry about who wrote the article if it’s just conventional generalizations without any new ideas? If the reasoning is bad, that’s enough reason for a negative review.

It doesn’t matter to me whether the feedback was generated by a human or an LLM: whatever the source, it’s just low-quality feedback.

Can Machines Think?

Attempts to define terms are always trouble because different people use words differently. Do LLMs think? That depends on how we define “think.” Are LLMs intelligent? That depends on how we define “intelligence.”

Can machines think? Can dogs think? Humans can, but I’m sure there are many who would say that humans don’t think nearly enough. Are machines intelligent? Are dogs intelligent? Humans are. Sometimes. This all depends on how we define the terms.

I do feel confident in saying that if LLMs think, it is a very different order of thinking than my own.

LLMs generate output by calculating probabilities based on their training corpus. To generate an answer to a question, the LLM compares the question to previously written stuff and then calculates what a likely answer would based on the training data. “The insight of large language modeling is that many practical NLP tasks can be cast as word prediction,…We can cast the task of question answering as word prediction…we ask a language model to compute the probability distribution over possible next words.” (3)

I can safely say that my responses to questions are not, except in rare cases, the result of calculating probabilities. The mechanisms of my thinking — the whole range of human experience, the natural attempts to maintain coherence, as well as to manage cognitive dissonance — are not calculations. (Indeed, is it even possible to have cognitive dissonance if you’re just calculating probabilities?)

You Are More Original than LLMs

Turing’s test is no longer relevant because LLMs can have conversations that are satisfying or convincing to many. But the underlying question remains, and becomes more important: how often will we trust computers to make decisions for us?

Intelligence, at least on one level, is an ability to add something new and interesting to an ongoing conversation. By their very nature, LLMs, aren’t going to generate new ideas, at least not in the way that humans generate new ideas.

The best that LLMs can do is re-mix old stuff, and they will do it in a way that best matches what they have already seen. That’s not a route to originality. It’s not even a route to copying the best examples of anything (which are rare compared to the bulk or examples). LLM judgements are entirely based on comparisons with what has been done in the past.

Humans, however, create new stuff all the time. A lot of the new stuff that humans create is junk. And a lot of the stuff that humans create has already been created — hence the desire to not “re-invent the wheel.”

The more you trust your own intelligence, and the more you work to develop it, the more likely you are to do something that is both original and good. So trust yourself, not an LLM, which is literally a device to re-create that which is already commonplace and conventional.

This article was originally posted on Medium. Please check out my writing over there!

References

(1) Turing, A.M. 1950. “Computing Machinery and Intelligence.” Mind, LIX(236): 433–460

(2) Sterne, Laurence. (1759–1767). The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/39270/39270-h/39270-h.htm

(3) Jurafsky, D. & Martin, J. H. (2026). Speech and Language Processing: An Introduction to Natural Language Processing, Computational Linguistics, and Speech Recognition with Language Models (3rd. edition draft). https://web.stanford.edu/~jurafsky/slp3/ed3bookaug20_2024.pdf

The Project Pipeline and Interruptions in the Writing Process

Maintaining a Regular Practice

War emergency pipeline from Longview, Texas to Norris City, Illinois. Pipeline approaching canal. Wooden plug in end of pipe will keep dirt and animals out. (https://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/fsa.8d09020/)

It’s good to focus on a single project, but most projects hit periods when it’s inefficient to work on them. At those times, it’s good to have other projects to which you can profitably turn your attention.

The pipeline

In academia, it’s pretty common to talk about the “pipeline” of projects, a set of projects in different stages of maturity: some you’re just beginning; some you’re developing as a project proposal; some you’re actively writing/creating; some you’re editing; some are in the hands of other people and you’re waiting to hear back. Maybe you don’t have all of these at once, but having multiple projects keeps the overall writing process smoother for writers, whether academic or not.

Natural interruptions

There are good reasons to put aside a project for a time. If you just completed a draft, it’s useful to set it aside for at least a few days before diving into revision. If you’re collaborating with others, hiring an editor, seeking publication, or in the publication process, then there are periods when working on your manuscript may be inefficient, for example if you decide to change something that someone else liked, or you fine-tune something that needs major revision. And sometimes we just get frustrated with a project, and would benefit from taking a break from it.

Continuity of practice

Many writers have a regular writing practice. They write every day or almost every day. Their writing time is built into their calendar. This regularity of practice is a huge benefit to the writer, not only because it keeps the writing space in your schedule occupied, but because it keeps your neurophysiology in a more consistent rhythm: you’re used to writing, which helps you turn your attention to writing and away from other distractions.

When an interruption arises, whatever the cause, if you have other projects, then you can keep working without an interruption to your writing practice.

Switching focus from one project to another has some difficulties: you may need to remind yourself of what you were doing with a project that hasn’t gotten attention for days or weeks. In such moments, distractions have an easier time grabbing your attention, and the continuity of practice helps manage the switch between projects without the practice being interrupted.

Emotional stability

Interruptions can be frustrating and emotionally challenging. Waiting to hear back about a submission can be stressful. Waiting for colleagues to respond can be frustrating. There are also times when the frustrations within a project also motivate taking a break. Whatever the cause of the interruption, your other projects offer a chance to work on something that interests and motivates you. (Hopefully you have some projects that do interest you and motivate you; if you don’t that’s a different problem.)

Since a good emotional state facilitates writing, having these other projects present will help prevent frustration. To be sure, there are times when it’s important to work through frustration, and I’m not suggesting switching projects every time you get frustrated, it’s easier to work through the specific frustrations of one project when you have a good relationship with writing and you don’t feel trapped by your project.

Projects, big and small

The bigger the project, the more likely there will be an interruption. The smaller the project, the more often you need to start a new one. Often it can be nice to have some of both in your pipeline. The big ones let you go deep; the small ones fill the cracks. A combination of big and small projects will commonly arise for professional writers and academics. There are books, articles, requests (e.g., query letters, applications for grants/fellowships), presentations, and possibly blogs and social media.

Satisfaction and a flowing pipeline

Getting projects out into the world, whether small or big, helps me feel like I’m making progress. It helps me feel like my efforts are more than spinning my wheels. I mostly write to help other writers, and when I do help others, that provides positive feedback. (I consider writing editorial feedback to an author to be one of the forms of writing on which I work. I don’t limit my view of writing to only material for publication.) You may have other motivations — to entertain, educate, express yourself, etc. — whatever the motivation, if your pipeline is producing stuff, or at least moving toward production, that feels good. And, again, a good mental state facilitates writing.

So keep your pipeline flowing. Yes, focus on one project when that project is moving. And yes, start new projects, or work on others, when you come to an interruption.

How many projects do you have in your pipeline at present?

Originally posted on Medium: https://thoughtclearing.medium.com/the-project-pipeline-and-interruptions-in-the-writing-process-40a59fcd8de7

Come visit my Medium for more writing! Follow and subscribe, please! https://thoughtclearing.medium.com

How to Become a Better Writer

Daybreak

Effective Writing Practice

Writing is an invaluable tool with a range of uses, from informal texting with friends to carefully crafted social media posts to career-shaping communications. Writing is also hard. Many struggle to write, especially as the stakes increase. Texting your best friend is probably easy. Writing a novel as a hobby is a lot harder. And writing is even harder in more formal settings like school and work.

For the past 20 years, I’ve been working as a writing coach for graduate students and professors. In the course of that work, I’ve thought, read, and written extensively about how to write more effectively. In 2007, I started my first blog on blogspot. Since then, there’s a second blog on my website, an academic book co-authored with my dissertation advisor, a self-published dissertation-writing book, and an academic guide to writing literature reviews that is (as of March 2026) featured on the UC Berkeley library website.

In this, my first article on Medium, I invite you to join me as I explore the question of how to become a better writer.

What is a Good Writer?

How would you answer this question? The most common answer, I imagine, is that a good writer is someone who produces good writing. This answer leads to the question: what is good writing? But I want to pursue a different idea of being a good writer, one that isn’t as common.

The idea I want to pursue is that a good writer is someone who gets more out of the process than they have to put in: their benefits outweigh their costs. A related description is that a good writer is someone who gets what they want from writing. That answer focuses only on the desired goal.

If that’s our view, then to answer this question, we have to know why we’re writing and what we hope to get out of writing. The better you understand what you want to do, the easier it is to achieve that goal, and therefore the easier it is for your benefits to outweigh your costs.

Know Your Purposes

Why do you write? Do you write for work? For school? For pleasure? Are you writing to entertain? To inform or educate? To heal yourself? For a good writing exercise, write out the reasons you want to write.

Human motivation is complex. Different needs and desires drive each of us. We want success; we want to shape our social position; we want to get our professor or boss off our back. The child may write a thank-you note for a birthday present because their parents told them to, or because they’re really grateful and excited to write their thanks. The scholar might write because they want a job or tenure, because they’re excited to share interesting ideas, because they want to teach and help others grow, or because they want to solve some social problem. The novelist might write because they want to express themselves, audience be damned, or because they want to entertain. These are the kinds of motivations that first come to mind when we talk about purposes.

Another set of purposes that are less often considered are in how the writing is used. All the purposes discussed in the previous paragraph are for some sort of social outcome — one centered on writing as a tool for communication. But writing is not always for communication: two valuable roles for writing are to support memory and to support development of new ideas. By recognizing these various purposes, writers can more effectively apply their efforts.

Effective Writing Practice

Every writer is different, so precise details about what makes an effective writing practice will vary. But we’re all human, so we also share a great deal, too. Especially, we all share the potential for learning and growth; indeed growth and change are inevitable. This constant change means that our purposes change too.

With this in mind, I like to focus on the question of “effective writing practice,” to highlight both the immediate moments and the long-term picture. The idea of effective research practice invites both the question of how to use the next minute effectively and how to use the next year or decade effectively.

Please come check out my Medium account (https://thoughtclearing.medium.com), where this was originally posted.

University Libraries Featuring My Book

A little over five years ago, my newest book, Literature Review and Research Design: A Guide to Effective Research Practice, was published. It didn’t get a lot of notice, and my efforts at promotion were hampered by the fact that the COVID lockdown hit just after I had sent out promotional materials while the book was still new.

Recently—over the past 18 months or so—it has started to sell more copies. We’re not talking huge numbers, by any means, but its ranking on Amazon, which spent most of its first three years languishing at 2,000,000 or 3,000,000, is now spending most of its time now at around 1,000,000 or 1,500,000.

Curious about this, I went looking on the web for reviews. I didn’t find many actual reviews (a few on Goodreads), but I did find that several universities were featuring it on webpages dedicated to giving guidance on doing literature reviews.  These libraries have chosen several books to feature from among the dozens on the subject of literature reviews, and it is quite gratifying to see mine among the few chosen.

Here’s the list of library webpages that I found: