Have you ever gotten lost in an academic article or textbook, caught up in the information almost the same way you would in a juicy thriller or harrowing tale of adventure?
I hope you’re lucky enough to have had this experience, but I must admit it’s not a common one across academic writing. That’s because the main purpose of academic writing is to inform and discuss—not captivate. That said, there’s absolutely no reason academic writers can’t draw on some of the same principles that the authors of those juicy thrillers use to keep readers hooked on the evolving story. And one of the main and most powerful such principles is flow.
Simply put, flow is the feeling of forgetting that you’re even reading something. The information is presented so clearly, and so compellingly, that you feel like you’re effortlessly following an easy path through the writer’s thought process. Nothing jumps out and startles you, nothing leaves you confused or searching for answers that aren’t there, and nothing catches you unprepared.
The ability to craft this specific experience of flow for the reader comes naturally to some people (including me, which is why I became an editor; building this transformative quality into my clients’ documents is literally my favorite part of my job). For others, it’s a struggle to even see it, let alone replicate it. The good news is that you can learn to create flow, and it’s as easy as focusing on links.
Links make flow, and flow is essentially links. When skillfully used, links are gentle, ongoing hints that tell your reader how to interpret new information in light of what came before it. Without them, academic writing can be like a barrage of disconnected statements—data point after data point that the reader is supposed to piece together themselves into a cohesive narrative. This makes for exhausting work; it’s why some papers read like trudging through molasses. But when we insert links and do the “piecing together” work for our reader, it reduces their cognitive load, leaving them with more capacity to engage with our actual content and its significance.
There are big links (I like to think of these as “planting the seeds” of ideas, which get carried and developed across whole sections or documents until they flourish into something new) and little links (I think of these as loops in a chain that the reader can hold onto as they step from sentence to sentence through the foggy terrain of novel information). We’ll save the discussion of big links for another time; mastering those takes more time and understanding. Little links, however, are incredibly quick and easy to insert into your writing—with outsized impacts.
Consider this sample passage on strategy:
Strategy is important to organizations. Smith contends that strategy is the most important aspect of any business. Phares notes that strategy is still undervalued. The reason is that too much is as harmful as too little. “Strategic” positions are often those associated with high salaries and nebulous performance outcomes.
The passage isn’t “wrong” in any official way. Yet you’d be hard-pressed to get a whole paper of this type of writing published in a top journal. In contrast, consider the following version, spruced up with a few handy little links:
Strategy is vital to organizations. Indeed, Smith contends that it is the most important aspect of any business. Yet, as Phares notes, strategy is still undervalued. The reason for this underemphasis on strategy is that too much is as harmful as too little: “strategic” positions are often associated with high salaries and nebulous performance outcomes.
As you can see, little links can add up to big results! Aside from swapping the lukewarm (and repeated) “important” for the stronger “vital,” we’ve only added six words (and one punctuation mark) to the second version—and about a gallon of increased readability and flow. The reader now knows exactly why we’re mentioning Smith’s point (to support and emphasize our opening argument that strategy is vital), exactly why we’re mentioning Phares’ point too (to contrast the assertion that strategy is vital and move into a discussion of how it’s undervalued), exactly what we mean by “the reason” (i.e., the reason for the undervaluing), and exactly how to interpret that final statement (it expands on what we mean by “too much is as bad as too little”)... all with just six extra words.
The key to inserting a helpful link is to think about how the focal sentence relates to what you just said. Does it stand in stark contrast to that previous sentence/point? Try starting it with “In contrast,” “Conversely,” “Despite this finding,” or similar links. Is the focal sentence a continuation of the same thought? Try “Similarly,” “Likewise,” or “In the same vein.”
Links don’t always have to start the sentence—they can also occur within it (e.g., “Smith examines this same issue” is a link back to an issue that the previous sentence must have mentioned). And don’t feel the need to start every sentence with a link. Repeated words and sentence-level patterns can get very monotonous, so you’ll want to vary the words and patterns that you use as needed. The easiest way to catch monotonous writing? Read aloud! Your ears are much better than your eyes at detecting soporific passages in your own work.
Finally, don’t expect generative AI to help you with flow; this is one of the many aspects of great writing that it can’t grasp at all. As a result, masterful flow now stands out more than ever before as the sea of AI-generated information grows. Don’t let your important research get lost in the flood!
Note: This blog post is adapted from my popular FREE guide on how to create flow in your writing. You can download the full guide here (scroll down below the testimonials and complete the form using your name and email address); it includes a “cheat sheet” of linking words to create instant flow. Many academics tell me it’s been an immense help not only for their own writing, but also in helping them better support and improve their students’ writing!
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