The art and science of writing for health services research
 

How has your background shaped your work?
I was always interested in how to be healthy at work, and how workplaces are designed to support this. As a child, it perplexed me that my dad, who had a longstanding corporate career, had little support from his organisation to be healthy and well. He worked for that company all his life and it seemed obvious to me that they’d want to look after their employees.

I didn’t want to go to university. After my A levels I qualified as a personal trainer (PT), but after a year, I realised I wanted to expand my mind. So I studied health promotion while running my PT business on the side.

After that, I worked for several wellbeing-related organisations, including the trade body that oversees the fitness industry (now called UKActive) and the Ramblers. I was always looking at improving wellbeing and health promotion but didn’t find quite the right thing until later on.

When did you start focusing on health research?
In 2014 I began a Master’s in organisational psychology so I could learn more about how to improve people’s health at work. In my family, education wasn’t really a ‘thing’ – it was simply a way to get a good job – but I discovered this whole other world. I love to read and learn, and I realised I could do that as a job and still make an impact through my work.

Today, my research concentrates on looking at working conditions, predominantly focusing on the NHS workforce. I work with a team of colleagues in the University of Surrey’s School of Health Sciences, working to improve the health and wellbeing of the healthcare workforce, alongside patient care.

What is the most important principle for you when developing content?
Developing your voice. For me, writing goes hand in hand with research itself – not just in disseminating findings. The writing process happens throughout the entire project, from making notes and collating information to spotting patterns.

Writing is a process of self-discovery. I think it’s important to have two writing outlets: the writing you do for yourself to learn and practise, and the writing you put out into the world. My approach is audience led, so I try to make it accessible while avoiding oversimplifying things.

One of the best things I’ve done is to invest in several different writing courses. It blew my mind to learn how using a formula can make the process so joyful! When I start a writing project now, I visualise the structure, like a funnel, which gives me a broad starting point.

Another important principle is clarity about your strategic aim. In research, we have to focus on this from the start, even to get funding. But people often confuse outputs with outcomes.

We need to measure the ultimate impact of disseminating our findings rather than the content itself. So we might track downloads or ask people to fill in a questionnaire before they download a resource and then follow up with them later to see if the content has inspired any change.

Demonstrating these outcomes is complex, though, especially when you’re looking at health. It can be hard to establish whether your work has resulted in a certain outcome when different outcomes overlap. It also takes time and a plan from the outset.

What trends are you seeing in the field?
There’s a drive now to share findings in a range of ways, including through non-traditional academic outputs. I still write traditional research papers, but equally I write blogs, editorials, long-form reports and toolkits, as well as reporting to stakeholders and running webinars. I’ve also shared interim findings on open science platforms like the OSF.

We’re also embracing formats like animations, short films, infographics and even theatre performances. They’re brilliant for mobilising knowledge, as long as you bring in expert help when it’s needed.

What are the biggest misconceptions you see in your work?
That being an academic automatically means you’re a good writer. Technical training doesn’t necessarily lead to effective storytelling.

Writing well is more than proper grammar and sentence structure – it’s about the narrative and identifying the key messages. That isn’t taught, and there’s a lot to learn from fields like journalism about how to engage readers and keep them hooked.

Practice is essential for learning how to adapt your style for different audiences. And if writing isn’t your strong suit, there’s no shame in that. You can provide the key messages and work with someone who brings the writing skillsets.

What’s on the horizon for you?
I have my first sole-authored editorials going live this month (April 2025) , both related to projects I’m leading or co-leading. ‘Mind the (expectation) gap: the double bind for women GPs’ is in the British Journal of General Practice and ‘Supporting women’s reproductive health at work’ in Case Reports in Women’s Health.

These two pieces bring together ideas from different fields, providing new ways of thinking about longstanding issues. That’s been very exciting.

In the academic world, it’s easy to fear overstating your findings, or being ‘cancelled’ because of your research. There’s a lot of shame and worry that can inhibit people from communicating. But it’s important to find your voice and let that show through your writing.

1. Flex your writing muscles. If you’re feeling restricted, try writing something totally unrelated, as a warm-up exercise.

2. Demonstrate your impact wherever you can. Track downloads of publications and gather readers’ email addresses so you can send follow-up questions.

3. If writing isn’t your thing, that’s okay. It’s good to practise and develop your writing skills, but there’s no shame in asking for experts for help.