Randy Aaron

How to Avoid Common Academic Writing Mistakes

I’ve made all the classic academic writing mistakes. More times than I care to admit. Writing papers isn’t just about getting the words down—it’s about making sure they actually say what I think they’re saying. And sometimes, after reading my own work back, I realize I’ve done something horribly wrong.

Maybe I got too wordy. Maybe I cited a source in a way that doesn’t actually support my argument. Maybe I tried so hard to sound “academic” that my sentence structure became unreadable. Academic writing is a skill, and like any skill, it’s full of pitfalls. The key isn’t just avoiding mistakes—it’s learning how to recognize them before they make my paper weaker.

1. Overcomplicating Language for No Reason

For a long time, I thought using big words made my writing sound more intelligent. If I could swap out “use” for “utilize” or “help” for “facilitate,” then surely, my work would seem more sophisticated. Right?

Wrong.

Academic writing needs to be clear, not complicated. If I can say something in fewer words, I should. A sentence like:

"The implementation of advanced technological methodologies has significantly enhanced the efficacy of data collection procedures."

…can (and should) be rewritten as:

"New technology has improved data collection."

It says the same thing. But one of them doesn’t make my reader want to quit halfway through.

2. Not Understanding the Difference Between Formal and Stiff Writing

The opposite of overcomplication is being too casual. Academic writing is formal, but that doesn’t mean I have to write like a robot.

For example, contractions like “don’t” or “isn’t” are often discouraged, but that doesn’t mean I should write something that sounds unnatural. A paper that says:

“It is imperative that one considers the ramifications of such an assertion.”

…is trying too hard. Good formal writing feels natural—it just avoids slang, overly personal opinions, and vague phrasing.

3. Weak Thesis Statements That Fall Apart on Closer Inspection

A thesis isn’t just a sentence that announces my topic. It’s the core argument that holds everything together. I used to write thesis statements that were too broad or too vague, like:

"This paper will discuss climate change and its effects."

Okay. And? What about climate change? This says nothing about my argument.

A stronger thesis would be:

"While climate change affects global weather patterns, its most immediate impact is on coastal communities facing rising sea levels and stronger hurricanes."

That’s an argument. That’s something I can build a paper around.

4. Citing Sources Without Actually Engaging With Them

I’ve been guilty of the “throw in a quote and move on” method of citation. It’s the fastest way to make it look like I’ve done my research without actually thinking about it.

If I quote a source, I have to explain why it’s relevant. Otherwise, it’s just floating there, doing nothing for my argument. Instead of:

“As Smith (2020) states, ‘The increase in automation has changed the job market significantly.’”

I should write:

“As Smith (2020) states, ‘The increase in automation has changed the job market significantly.’ This highlights how industries reliant on human labor—particularly manufacturing—are being forced to adapt, often leading to job displacement.”

A quote should never just sit there without analysis. That’s not research; that’s just copy-pasting.

5. Using Sources That Don’t Actually Support My Argument

Sometimes, I find a study that kind of relates to my argument, but not really. And I still try to make it fit. But forcing a source into my paper just to meet a citation requirement weakens my argument.

If I’m making a claim, my sources should directly support that claim. Otherwise, I’m relying on something that doesn’t actually back up what I’m saying. And if my argument isn’t supported by real evidence? That’s a sign I need to rethink my argument, not just throw in more citations.

6. Generic Conclusions That Add Nothing New

I used to think conclusions were just a place to restate my thesis in different words. But if my conclusion doesn’t add anything to the discussion, what’s the point of it?

A strong conclusion should:

• Summarize key points without repeating them verbatim.
• Explain the significance of the argument. (Why does this matter?)
• Offer a final thought or question. (What should the reader take away from this?)

Instead of:

"In conclusion, climate change is a major issue, and we must do something about it."

I should write:

"As rising sea levels threaten coastal communities, addressing climate change is no longer just a long-term goal—it’s an immediate necessity. Without policy changes, these areas will face irreversible damage within decades."

This doesn’t just recap—it pushes the argument forward.

7. Assuming One-Size-Fits-All Writing Strategies Work for Every Student

Here’s something I’ve learned: not everyone writes the same way, and that’s okay. Some people outline every detail before writing. Others, like me, figure things out as they go.

That’s why customized essays for students are useful—not in the “buy a paper online” way, but in the sense that students should have flexible approaches to writing that work for them. If I try to force myself into a rigid structure that doesn’t fit my thinking process, my writing suffers.

The real trick is finding a process that actually helps me think—whether that’s mind maps, voice notes, or detailed outlines. There’s no single right way to write a good paper.

8. Ignoring How Personalized Learning Improves Writing

I used to think that writing skills were just something you either had or didn’t. But the more I’ve worked on my writing, the more I’ve realized how much personalized learning approaches make a difference.

Some people need feedback on structure. Others struggle with clarity. Some are great at research but need help making their writing flow. If academic writing were taught in a way that focused on individual strengths and weaknesses, more students would actually improve.

Instead of generic advice like “write a stronger thesis,” real feedback should be about how a student processes information and builds arguments. That’s the kind of learning that actually sticks.

Final Thought: Writing Is a Skill, Not a Mystery

Academic writing isn’t about sounding impressive—it’s about communicating ideas clearly and persuasively. I’ve made all of these mistakes at some point, and I’ll probably make some of them again. But the more I learn to catch them before they weaken my argument, the better my writing gets.

At the end of the day, writing isn’t just about following rules. It’s about knowing which ones actually matter.