For years, I tried to write abstracts first because they appear first in the paper. It never worked—I didn't know what to summarize before I'd actually written anything. Then a mentor gave me the best advice: write the abstract last. After the whole paper is done, you actually know what you're summarizing. I now finish my entire draft, let it sit for a day, then come back and extract the essence.
The key is being ruthless—every sentence must earn its place. I ask myself: if someone only read this abstract, would they understand why I did this research, how I did it, what I found, and why it matters? If not, I revise.
My latest abstract went through five drafts before it felt right, but each version got closer to capturing the heart of the paper. Now I actually enjoy the challenge of distilling thousands of words into a tight, powerful summary. For anyone wondering how to approach abstract writing, my advice is simple: don't rush it, write it last, and treat every word like it costs money. The result is worth the effort.
The key is being ruthless—every sentence must earn its place. I ask myself: if someone only read this abstract, would they understand why I did this research, how I did it, what I found, and why it matters? If not, I revise.
My latest abstract went through five drafts before it felt right, but each version got closer to capturing the heart of the paper. Now I actually enjoy the challenge of distilling thousands of words into a tight, powerful summary. For anyone wondering how to approach abstract writing, my advice is simple: don't rush it, write it last, and treat every word like it costs money. The result is worth the effort.