During my postdoctoral training in the U.S., I learned a tough but critical truth about what it took to succeed in academia<\/strong>: $$ funding $$. As a graduate student and even far into my postdoc, I used to think that having brilliant ideas alone would be enough. If I only express my groundbreaking thoughts, surely others would see their brilliance, and the grants would naturally flow my way, right? <\/p>\n\n\n\n Except I didn\u2019t consider myself all that brilliant and so I thought, not getting grants meant that the ideas were not good enough. Then this made me wonder: Am I good enough? <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n But the reality turned out to be different, as I saw first-hand while working as a postdoc with a well-funded research team and a PI who was quite successful at securing grants\u2013until he wasn\u2019t\u2026 <\/p>\n\n\n\n Eventually, we faced the harsh struggle of grant rejections, despite generating preliminary data non-stop, so that we could submit the next proposal. After a year or so, this got old because producing preliminary data is not the same as doing systematic, rigorous, impactful science. It\u2019s a bit like developing a new cookie recipe by making different doughs, lots of different doughs, without ever baking cookies. And not only do you not get to eat cookies, you also don\u2019t advance your career. No cookies aka completed datasets, no publications, no next position. This spin in the endless <\/strong>prelim data \u2013 grant submission \u2013 grant not funded \u2013 more prelim data<\/em><\/strong> game made me question my path and whether I was even cut out for this journey.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s talk about the essential lessons I learned, the obstacles I faced, and how I turned my approach to grant writing from instinctual and a triaged NIH K99 to systematic. This led me to secure $6M of funding during my first two years on the tenure track. In total, I submitted large US federal grants (only?) 7 times since I started my lab in 2016. I got my first R01 and R21 funded after the first round of submission and I hit single digit percentiles (making it very likely that the grant is funded) two times, once after the first submission and for my second R01 after I revised and resubmitted. These successes have little to do with luck or with brilliant ideas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Which is why I tell folks: Don\u2019t dismiss free webinars! You never know which breakthrough the next one will lead you to. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The webinar wasn’t about how to find more brilliant ideas but about using a systematic approach to present those ideas. I learned that the skill of grant writing was like learning to compose a piece of music\u2014there are rules, methods, and a structure that guide you toward the result. This was very different from the “just figure it out” approach I had experienced before, and it felt empowering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Thrilled by my new insights and the outlook of learning these rules, methods, and structure of grants that are fundable, I signed up for a 12-weeks course. It was a pivotal moment in my career. I am not sure I would still be in science without it. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I won’t lie and say that this course led to instant success. It didn\u2019t. But that decision put me on a path that changed my life\u2014incrementally, over the course of years, much like my scientific work itself. I discovered that, before I could fully leverage the new skills I was learning, I had to confront my fears and lean into my strengths, even during the most difficult aspects of the writing process.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I began the course, I was determined. I listened to every training session and diligently completed every exercise. Writing about my science was never easy for me, but I pushed through, spending my weekends crafting my K99 grant proposal. I had convinced myself that getting this K99 funded was absolutely necessary to get a faculty position. When I finally submitted my specific aims page for review, I was convinced that I\u2019d done an excellent job, and I fully expected praise from the program leader.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Instead, the page came back covered in red comments and edits. I was disappointed and scared. <\/strong>What if I couldn’t get this grant? Would that mean I wouldn’t get a faculty position? Was I not good enough\u2014a bad scientist, or a poor writer, or perhaps both?<\/p>\n\n\n\n It took me a long time to understand these fears and bring them to the surface. At that time, I wasn’t ready to face them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2014not from writing entirely, but from engaging with my work at the level needed to truly succeed. As a result, that grant didn\u2019t get funded. And yet, I did secure a faculty position. I found myself right back on the treadmill, needing funding to advance my career and support my work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Determined to succeed, I signed up for another grant writing program\u2014this time, an intensive one that required weekly meetings and writing presentations. I had a complicated relationship with these sessions. I loved the training itself, but I dreaded the feedback.<\/strong> Each week, I believed I had finally nailed it, and each week, I learned I hadn\u2019t. I felt defensive, certain that the writing coaches simply didn\u2019t understand my science.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At a writing retreat in the middle of nowhere, I pitched yet another grant idea. The group didn\u2019t respond well. I was defensive, and I was close to tears. Finally, the retreat leader asked, “What is really going on?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I took a breath, turned inward, and faced the uncomfortable truth: My “brilliant idea” mindset had led me to question my own abilities. Did I really deserve the trust my university and team had placed in me? In my writing, I was still holding back, avoiding deep engagement with feedback, and making only superficial changes at the last minute. I hated the discomfort of staring at the page, uncertain how to fix it. Sitting in that room, surrounded by expectant faces, I realized I was afraid\u2014afraid that if I fully applied myself and still failed, it would prove that I wasn\u2019t good enough for this career. And if that was true, then what path forward was there for me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Saying it out loud, I felt both the weight and the absurdity of it. Of course, there would be a path forward if I gave my best effort and still failed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Once I committed fully, everything changed. I took my writing and my thinking about my research to a different level. That doesn\u2019t mean the fear vanished overnight. But it no longer controlled me. Over a year, I drafted and redrafted, sought feedback, and rewrote until my first million-dollar grant was funded on its first submission. I also led a team of five senior researchers to successfully win a multi-million-dollar foundation grant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What I learned through that process, and later as a grant-writing coach, is that many of the struggles we face are less about our writing skills and more about our fears and insecurities. These fears manifest in various ways\u2014always finding other tasks to prioritize, feeling perpetually overwhelmed, avoiding deep engagement with feedback, procrastinating, or pushing through at the last minute only to produce mediocre work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The intensive program and retreats also taught me about the collaborative nature of grant writing. I had once thought of it as a solitary endeavor, but it\u2019s far from that. The constant feedback\u2014however hard to accept at times\u2014forced me to refine my work and understand my ideas more deeply. It wasn’t just about fixing words on a page; it was about rethinking and reshaping the narrative I was telling about my research.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Getting through writer\u2019s block meant confronting the underlying fears I had. Breaking down the process into smaller, manageable pieces helped, but the most transformative step was allowing myself to be vulnerable and accepting feedback. Week after week, I faced my discomfort, listened to critiques, and adjusted. Progress wasn\u2019t linear, but it was steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ultimately, grant writing became a path of self-discovery. It taught me that success was less about immediate wins and more about persistence, honesty, and growth. My first successful million-dollar grant wasn\u2019t a stroke of genius; it was the result of committing fully to the process, of not letting fear hold me back, and of being willing to truly engage with my work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To those struggling with writing grants: it isn\u2019t about being a perfect writer or a flawless scientist. It\u2019s about having the courage to try, to face your fears, and to commit to the hard work of improving, draft after draft. The journey is rarely easy, but every effort brings you closer to success, and each setback is an opportunity to learn and grow. Your path forward isn\u2019t determined by one failure or even many\u2014it’s defined by your ability to keep going, to refine your craft, and to embrace the discomfort that leads to genuine progress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now having said all that, adjusting your mindset is only one of the puzzle pieces. There also is a craft and a skillset to learn. That is why we invited a guest speaker this month, Ana Pineda, PhD from <\/strong>I focus and write<\/strong>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Ana is a writing and productivity coach helping scientists to focus and write more mindfully. She uses an approach that has been featured in Nature, and that Ana has taught at well-known Universities, such as Cambridge and Oxford. The best? She will share her masterclass about how to leverage her writing strategies in your grant proposal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What?<\/strong> FREE Masterclass with Ana Pineda \u201cGetting funded: 4 mistakes to avoid when you write your next grant\u201d<\/strong> <\/p>\n\n\n\n When? <\/strong>Tuesday, October 15 at 1pm ET, 7pm CET. (Check your time zone here<\/a>). If you cannot attend “live”, register anyway, Ana will send a replay afterwards!<\/p>\n\n\n\nWhen the funding ran low<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
It all started with one fateful webinar\u2026<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Embarking on learning the art of grant writing<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
The fear of not being good enough held me back<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Until I had a breakthrough realization<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
The real failure was in not committing fully<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
Lessons learned about grant writing and life<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s not just about fixing words on the page<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Writer’s block is just a symptom of fear<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
Grant writing is about self-discovery<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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