Learn how to write a scientific research paper for publication as a premed, including the abstract, introduction, methods, results, discussion, authorship, journal selection, submission, and peer review.
Writing my first scientific publication was intimidating because research papers look incredibly polished by the time you find them on PubMed. You see carefully organized figures, concise scientific language, dozens of references, and conclusions that seem obvious in retrospect, but you do not see the months or years of experiments, failed approaches, data analysis, drafts, mentor comments, rejected sentences, reviewer responses, and revisions that happened before the paper reached that point.
That is something I understand much better now than I did when I originally wrote this article as an undergraduate researcher. I started in basic science research studying mercury handling and nephrotoxicity, where I eventually became a coauthor on peer-reviewed work, and my research since then has expanded into clinical outcomes, oncology, genomics, large datasets, translational research, abstracts, national presentations, and additional peer-reviewed manuscripts. As a medical student, I now regularly help take projects from the research question through data analysis, abstracts, posters, manuscripts, journal submission, and revisions, and I also mentor younger students through many of those same steps.
The biggest lesson has remained surprisingly consistent throughout all of those projects: scientific writing is a learned skill. My early drafts were not polished, I struggled to determine what conclusions I could reasonably draw from the literature, and I needed substantial input from mentors who understood the field much better than I did. That did not mean I was bad at research because learning how to turn data into a manuscript was simply another skill that needed to be developed.
If you are an undergraduate or premed who has finally generated data and somebody in your lab says, “We should write this up,” this guide is meant to show you what happens next. I will walk through how to write a research paper for publication, what belongs in every manuscript section, how authorship actually works, how to choose a journal, what happens during submission and peer review, and how I approach manuscript writing differently after working on publications at both the undergraduate and medical-school levels.
Quick Answer: How Do You Write a Research Paper for Publication?
Most original biomedical research papers follow a structure built around the Introduction, Methods, Results, and Discussion, commonly called IMRaD, although the exact format depends on the journal and article type. The abstract, title, references, figures, tables, supplemental material, acknowledgments, disclosures, and other sections are then added according to the journal’s instructions.
A useful way to think about the manuscript is that each section answers a different question. Your introduction explains why the study needed to be done, the methods explain what you did, the results explain what you found, and the discussion explains what those findings mean and how they fit into the existing literature.
| Manuscript Section | Main Question It Answers |
|---|---|
| Title | What is this study about? |
| Abstract | What did we study, how did we study it, what did we find, and why does it matter? |
| Introduction | What is already known, what is missing, and what question did we ask? |
| Methods | Exactly how was the study performed? |
| Results | What did the analyses or experiments show? |
| Discussion | What do the findings mean in the context of prior research? |
| Limitations | What should readers be cautious about when interpreting the findings? |
| Conclusion | What is the main takeaway? |
| References | What prior evidence supports the manuscript? |
| Supplemental Material | What additional methods, analyses, tables, or figures help support the work? |
I would not assume that every journal wants these sections in exactly the same order. Some journals combine the Results and Discussion, some do not use a separate conclusion, some require structured abstracts, and different study designs may require completely different reporting elements, so the journal’s instructions for authors should always take priority over a generic article like this one.
What Is a Scientific Publication?
A scientific publication is a scholarly research article that communicates research findings or other scientific work to the broader academic community. Original research articles are probably what most premeds imagine when they hear the word publication, but journals also publish systematic reviews, meta-analyses, narrative reviews, case reports, brief reports, research letters, methods papers, perspectives, and several other article types.
My first substantial exposure to publication writing came through basic science research. I worked on projects involving mercury transport and nephrotoxicity, and one of the papers I coauthored examined how metallothionein and zinc affected mercury accumulation and toxicity in experimental models.
At the time, I was learning not only the science but also how scientific evidence gets converted into a manuscript. I had spent plenty of time reading PubMed papers, but writing one forced me to understand why the authors structured the introduction a certain way, how much methodological detail needed to be included, why figures had to stand on their own, and how carefully every conclusion needed to match the evidence actually generated.
That experience became much more useful later when I moved into medical-school research. The specific questions changed, and some projects now involve clinical cohorts, genomic datasets, survival analyses, patient outcomes, or other methods rather than laboratory experiments, but the fundamental writing problem is the same: you have evidence, and your job is to communicate exactly what that evidence does and does not show.
Publications Are Helpful for Premeds, but They Are Not Required
I want to correct something that the original version of this article probably emphasized too strongly. Publications can absolutely strengthen a medical school application, particularly when they represent sustained research involvement, but you do not need a publication to get into medical school.
Research itself also should not become a competition to accumulate the largest number of citations before AMCAS. The more important part of a research experience is understanding the question you investigated, what you personally contributed, what went wrong, how the team responded, and what you learned about the scientific process.
The current AMCAS application does have separate experience categories for Research/Lab, Presentations/Posters, and Publications, so completed scholarly work can be represented directly on the application. Still, a publication is most valuable when you can actually explain the research behind it rather than simply pointing to your name in an author list.
That matches my experience during medical school applications and interviews. Research gave me useful things to discuss because I could talk about failed experiments, troubleshooting, collaboration, scientific uncertainty, and how we adapted projects when things did not work, which was much more meaningful than simply saying that I had been published.
My First Lesson: Do Not Wait Until the End to Think About the Paper
One thing I understand much better now is that manuscript preparation ideally begins long before somebody opens a blank Word document and writes “Introduction.” If your project has a clear research question, planned outcomes, appropriate statistics, organized data, documented methodology, and an understanding of the reporting standards for the study design, writing becomes significantly easier.
This is especially important for clinical and retrospective research. If you wait until the analysis is finished to realize that an important variable was never collected, an outcome was poorly defined, or your methods are impossible to reconstruct, better writing cannot rescue the underlying design problem.
The same concept applies to laboratory work. During my undergraduate research, careful experimental records became essential when we later needed exact doses, timing, animal numbers, assays, reagents, or statistical methods for the manuscript.
Your future Methods section is being created while the study is happening. Treating documentation as part of the publication process rather than an administrative chore will save you a tremendous amount of frustration later.
Before You Start Writing, Identify Your Study Type
Before drafting, determine what kind of study you actually conducted because different study designs have different expectations for transparent reporting. A randomized clinical trial, observational cohort, systematic review, diagnostic accuracy study, animal experiment, qualitative study, and case report should not all be written using an identical checklist.
For health and medical research, I recommend checking the EQUATOR Network reporting guidelines before writing. Depending on your study design, you may encounter guidelines such as CONSORT for randomized trials, STROBE for observational research, PRISMA for systematic reviews, CARE for case reports, or other specialized reporting standards.
I wish I had understood reporting guidelines earlier because they are useful for much more than satisfying a journal requirement immediately before submission. They can help you recognize information that readers will eventually need in order to understand how the study was performed and judge whether the conclusions are trustworthy.
If your journal requires a particular reporting checklist, use it while writing rather than waiting until submission day. It is much easier to build the necessary information into the manuscript than to discover fifteen missing reporting items after everyone believes the draft is finished.
Decide on Authorship Early
Authorship conversations can become uncomfortable, which is exactly why I think they should happen early rather than after the manuscript is complete. If several students, residents, faculty members, statisticians, or collaborators contributed to a project, expectations about authorship and approximate order should be discussed before everyone develops a different idea of what their contribution will earn.
The International Committee of Medical Journal Editors authorship recommendations are a particularly useful reference in biomedical research. ICMJE uses four authorship criteria centered around substantial contribution to the work, participating in drafting or critical revision, approving the final manuscript, and accepting accountability for the work.
That means simply helping collect a few data points does not automatically guarantee authorship under every journal’s policies, and neither does being the person who obtained funding or generally supervised a laboratory. At the same time, someone who contributes substantially to the project should be given an appropriate opportunity to participate in drafting, revision, and approval rather than being excluded from authorship by never being allowed to meet those later criteria.
Research teams vary in how they handle order, so talk about it. Having an awkward five-minute conversation near the beginning of a project is much better than having a genuinely angry conversation after two people both thought they were going to be first author.
First Author Does Not Simply Mean “The Person Who Wrote the Introduction”
In the original version of this article, I described first authorship too simply. First author commonly represents a major or leading contribution in many biomedical fields, but exactly what that means depends on the project, discipline, research team, and journal.
A first author may have helped develop the research question, collect or curate data, conduct analyses, prepare figures, interpret results, write major portions of the manuscript, coordinate revisions, or lead several of those areas. Increasingly, journals also use detailed contributor statements to show exactly who performed which roles rather than expecting author order to communicate every contribution.
The CRediT Contributor Role Taxonomy is useful here because it identifies roles such as conceptualization, methodology, formal analysis, data curation, visualization, writing the original draft, and writing through review and editing. I like this approach because research is collaborative, and a single position in an author list cannot fully explain what every person contributed.
If you are an undergraduate hoping for first authorship, I would focus less on negotiating the title immediately and more on becoming someone capable of leading substantial portions of the project. Learn the literature, understand the dataset or experiments, volunteer to create figures, participate in analysis, write drafts, respond to feedback, and gradually take ownership.
The Last Author Is Not Automatically the Corresponding Author
This is another correction I would make to the original article. In many biomedical research groups, the senior principal investigator appears last, which is why students often learn that the last author is the mentor, but this is a convention rather than a universal rule.
The corresponding author is the person responsible for communication with the journal during submission, peer review, and often after publication. That person can be the senior author, first author, or another author depending on the project and journal.
I have now worked on enough multi-author projects to appreciate why these distinctions matter. Some projects have several faculty collaborators, shared senior authorship, co-first authors, multiple institutions, or contributors whose roles cannot be inferred simply by counting where their names appear.
When you are evaluating your own authorship, understand your contribution and discuss it openly with the team instead of assuming every research field uses identical author-order rules.
Should You Pick the Journal Before Writing?
Whenever possible, I like having at least a general target journal or journal tier in mind before the manuscript is finalized. The scientific content should drive the project, but journals can differ substantially in allowable word count, abstract structure, figure limits, reference limits, article categories, supplemental material, and formatting expectations.
You do not necessarily need to choose the final journal before writing sentence one. In many of my projects, the exact target becomes clearer once we see the strength of the final dataset, how complete the story is, and which journals have recently published similar work.
What I would avoid is finishing a 5,000-word manuscript with eight figures and then discovering that the journal you wanted accepts 3,000 words and four figures. Understanding the general requirements early can prevent a major restructuring later.
Your mentor can be extremely valuable during journal selection because experienced investigators know the journals in their field, understand what types of studies those journals publish, and often have firsthand experience with their editorial processes.
What Order Should You Write the Manuscript In?
You do not have to write a paper from the first word of the introduction through the last word of the conclusion. In fact, I often find that the manuscript becomes easier when the research question, analysis, tables, and figures are settled first because those components determine the story the paper can legitimately tell.
For many original research projects, I would begin by getting the Methods and Results into a reasonably complete form. Those sections are anchored closely to what you actually did and what the data actually showed, which gives the rest of the manuscript something concrete to build around.
The introduction and discussion can then be written with a much clearer understanding of the final study. I would usually finish or heavily revise the abstract after the manuscript is substantially complete because the abstract needs to reflect the final version rather than an earlier version of what you thought the paper would become.
This is not a universal law, and different researchers have different workflows. The important part is realizing that you do not need to stare at the opening sentence of the introduction for three hours before you are allowed to work on anything else.
How to Write the Title
A scientific title should tell the reader what the study actually investigated without trying to sound clever. Depending on the journal, useful elements can include the main exposure or intervention, outcome, patient population or model, and study design.
I have become much more literal with research titles over time. A title should help a researcher searching PubMed recognize that your paper addresses the question they are trying to answer, which means clarity is usually more useful than creativity.
Avoid claiming more than the study demonstrated. If you performed a retrospective observational study, a title implying that one variable caused another can misrepresent the design before the reader even reaches the abstract.
I also recommend checking several recent papers from the journal you are considering. You will quickly notice patterns in how that particular journal titles cohort studies, laboratory work, genomic analyses, reviews, and other article types.
How to Write a Scientific Abstract
The abstract is a compressed version of the manuscript that allows a reader to understand the research question, basic methods, major results, and conclusion without reading the full article. Some journals use a single paragraph, while others require structured headings such as Background, Methods, Results, and Conclusions.
My first publication experience taught me how difficult good abstracts actually are. It sounds easier to write 250 words than 3,000, but removing everything nonessential while preserving the logic and important numerical findings can be harder than writing a longer section.
For an original research abstract, I generally want the opening sentences to establish the problem and objective quickly. The methods should identify the study design, population or experimental system, primary variables or interventions, and major analyses without becoming a miniature Methods section.
The results should contain the findings that actually answer the study question. Whenever appropriate, I prefer specific quantitative results rather than vague statements such as “Group A performed better than Group B,” because the reader needs to know how large the difference was and how it was evaluated.
The conclusion should stay proportional to those results. If your retrospective association study found that a biomarker was associated with survival, the abstract should not suddenly declare that targeting the biomarker will improve survival unless the study actually tested that question.
My Abstract Advice Changed With Experience
When I first started research, I thought of the abstract mostly as a summary that you wrote after the paper. After submitting abstracts to conferences, writing manuscripts, and mentoring students through abstract preparation, I now think of it more like a compressed scientific argument.
Every sentence has to earn its space. Background that does not help the reader understand the research question can usually disappear, methodological details that do not affect interpretation can usually be shortened, and secondary results that distract from the primary finding may belong only in the manuscript.
Abstract writing also taught me how to recognize when a project itself is not yet conceptually clear. If you cannot explain in a few sentences what question you asked, what you did, what you found, and why the finding matters, the problem may not be the word limit.
I have used abstracts repeatedly for conference submissions, grants, posters, presentations, and manuscripts, so learning this format early has been one of the highest-return research writing skills I developed.
How to Write the Introduction
The purpose of the introduction is not to teach the reader everything ever published about your topic. It needs to establish enough context for the reader to understand what is known, identify what remains uncertain, and understand why your study was necessary.
This is one of the sections I struggled with most when I first began writing papers. I would read twenty, thirty, or forty articles and then feel as though I somehow needed to become an expert on hundreds of additional studies before I was qualified to say where the field currently stood.
My mentors were essential here because they had spent years reading the literature and could recognize context that I was missing. I might read several studies and believe the evidence pointed clearly in one direction, only for a mentor to explain that another body of literature complicated the conclusion.
That experience is why I still encourage students to draft the section themselves but then discuss the framing closely with an experienced mentor. You should learn to synthesize literature, but you also need to be receptive when somebody with more experience shows you that your interpretation is incomplete.
A Simple Introduction Structure
Most introductions can be thought of as moving from broad context toward the specific research question. You establish the larger problem, summarize the portion of the literature directly relevant to your study, identify the unresolved question or gap, and then explain what your study was designed to evaluate.
You do not need forty references simply because another paper had forty. The ICMJE manuscript recommendations actually encourage authors to prioritize relevant original research rather than creating unnecessarily exhaustive reference lists.
That is another part of my original article I would revise. The goal is not reaching a predetermined citation count because the goal is supporting the scientific statements that matter with appropriate evidence.
I now care much more about whether the cited paper actually supports the sentence. Reading and citing the original study is often better than repeatedly citing another review that summarized it, particularly when the underlying details matter to your argument.
Do Not Build Your Introduction by Copying Another Paper’s Citations
When you are new to a field, finding a closely related paper can be incredibly helpful because its references give you a map of important prior studies. I used that strategy myself when I was learning how to navigate unfamiliar literature.
The important second step is opening the original papers and confirming that they actually support the point you intend to make. Citation chains can propagate errors when one article mischaracterizes another and every later author repeats the same interpretation without returning to the original work.
This has become especially important to me as I have gained more writing experience. If I write that a particular gene is associated with an outcome, I want to know whether the cited study actually demonstrated that association, whether it was statistically significant, what population was studied, and whether the paper’s conclusion was more cautious than my sentence.
Scientific writing is not improved by having more citations attached to a sentence if none of them actually prove the claim you made.
How to Write the Methods Section
The Methods section explains how the study was conducted with enough transparency for readers to evaluate the design and, where appropriate, reproduce or build upon the work. This section should be detailed, precise, and much less interested in elegant prose than the introduction or discussion.
In my undergraduate mercury research, the Methods included details about experimental animals, treatment groups, mercury exposure, tissue collection, histologic analysis, quantitative PCR, isolated proximal tubule experiments, and statistical analysis. Those details were not filler because somebody evaluating the paper needed to understand exactly what happened before deciding whether the results were convincing.
The same principle applies to the clinical research I work on now. Instead of describing animal dosing or qPCR, the Methods may need to explain the dataset, inclusion and exclusion criteria, variable definitions, endpoints, missing-data handling, statistical tests, survival analyses, software, and other decisions necessary to understand how we generated the results.
I have become increasingly careful with this section because methodological ambiguity creates problems later. If I cannot explain exactly which patients entered an analysis or how an outcome was defined, the manuscript is revealing a weakness in the research workflow rather than merely a writing problem.
What Goes Into the Methods Section?
The exact subsections depend on the research design. A laboratory study may require detailed information about organisms or cell lines, reagents, interventions, assays, equipment, sample preparation, and statistics, while a retrospective clinical study may focus more heavily on cohort construction, variables, outcomes, data sources, and analytical methods.
Ethics information also belongs here when applicable. Human-subjects research may require institutional review board information and consent details, while animal studies generally require appropriate animal-care approval and reporting.
I would also identify the statistical methods carefully enough that somebody can understand what comparisons were performed and why. Simply writing “statistical analysis was performed” tells the reader almost nothing.
The reporting guideline for your study design can help considerably with this section. If another researcher cannot understand what you did from your Methods, you probably need more detail.
How to Write the Results Section
The Results section tells the reader what you found without turning every result into a paragraph of interpretation. This distinction felt somewhat artificial to me when I first started writing because the natural instinct is to immediately explain why an interesting result occurred, but that explanation usually belongs in the Discussion.
I think of the Results as walking the reader through the evidence in a logical sequence. In a clinical study, you may begin with cohort characteristics before moving into the primary outcome, secondary analyses, subgroup analyses, and other findings, while a laboratory manuscript may move through experiments in the order necessary to build the biological story.
Numbers matter here. When a comparison is important, provide the relevant sample sizes, effect estimates, confidence intervals, p values, or other appropriate quantitative information instead of relying only on words such as “increased,” “decreased,” or “different.”
One thing I have learned from working with larger datasets is that statistical significance and clinical importance are not automatically the same thing. Your Results should accurately report what the analysis found, while the Discussion can address whether the magnitude is meaningful.
Do Not Repeat Every Number in the Table
A common early writing habit is creating a detailed table and then rewriting every cell from that table in paragraph form. That usually makes the Results section longer without giving the reader anything new.
Use the text to direct attention toward the findings that matter most to the research question. The table can contain the full numerical detail, while the prose emphasizes patterns, primary comparisons, and results that need the reader’s attention.
I have become much more selective about this as my projects have become more data-heavy. When a table contains dozens of demographic, clinical, genomic, or outcome variables, reproducing each number in the text makes the central finding harder rather than easier to see.
A good Results section helps the reader navigate the evidence instead of forcing them to read the same information twice.
Figures and Tables Are Part of the Scientific Argument
Do not treat the figures as decorations added after the paper is written. In many research papers, the figures and tables communicate the evidence more efficiently than several pages of prose.
I like building key tables and figures relatively early because they force me to decide what the study is actually showing. If I cannot create a clear table describing the cohort or a figure demonstrating the major result, I may need to rethink how the analysis is organized.
Every figure should have a legend that gives readers enough information to understand what they are looking at. Define abbreviations, groups, symbols, and statistical indicators appropriately so the reader does not have to search through three pages of Methods just to understand one plot.
The visual also needs to match the scientific point. A beautiful graph that obscures the sample size, exaggerates small differences, or makes the comparison difficult to interpret is not a good scientific figure simply because it looks polished.
Be Extremely Careful With Figure Labels and Sample Sizes
Small errors in figures can damage trust quickly because figures often contain the most important evidence in the manuscript. Check labels, legends, units, group names, sample sizes, axis scales, statistical annotations, and consistency between the figure and text before submission.
I am particularly sensitive to this because I have made and reviewed enough research figures to know how easy it is for an old label or outdated number to survive several manuscript drafts. If an analysis changes, every place where that number appears needs to change too.
This is also one reason manuscript writing often involves more revision than students expect. Changing one inclusion criterion can affect the Methods, cohort diagram, demographic table, Results text, figures, abstract, Discussion, supplemental material, and even the title.
Good scientific writing is partly about keeping the entire paper synchronized as the project evolves.
How to Write the Discussion Section
The Discussion is where you finally interpret the findings and explain how they fit into the larger scientific literature. This was the hardest section for me when I first started writing publications, and I still think it requires more scientific judgment than almost any other section.
I usually begin by restating the major findings without simply copying the Results section. The reader should immediately understand what the study contributed before you move into comparisons with prior research.
Then I work through what the findings mean in context. Do they agree with previous studies, conflict with them, extend them into a new population, suggest a possible mechanism, challenge an assumption, or answer a question that had not been studied directly?
This is where your literature review becomes especially important. You are no longer merely saying what other researchers found because you are explaining how your evidence relates to theirs.
My Mentors Were Essential When I Learned to Write Discussions
During my undergraduate research, this was where the experience difference between me and my mentors was most obvious. I could read twenty papers about mercury transport and develop an interpretation, but they had spent years studying renal toxicology and could immediately recognize mechanisms or prior findings I had overlooked.
That did not mean I should stop developing my own ideas. One of the most valuable parts of research was proposing explanations, being wrong sometimes, learning why I was wrong, and gradually developing better scientific intuition.
I still use the same process now in medical school. I will write what I think the result means, compare it with the literature, discuss it with mentors and collaborators, and revise the interpretation when someone identifies a better explanation or a limitation I had not considered.
Your mentor should improve your thinking, not simply repair your grammar.
A Good Discussion Does Not Pretend Every Result Is Groundbreaking
One writing habit I have become much more careful about is overclaiming. Researchers naturally want their work to matter, and there can be pressure to make every finding sound novel, clinically transformative, or mechanistically important.
The problem is that readers and reviewers notice when the evidence does not support the language. A retrospective association does not prove causation, an exploratory subgroup result is not automatically definitive, and one laboratory model does not immediately establish that the same mechanism will work in humans.
I now try to write conclusions that I would be comfortable defending if a reviewer asked me to point to the exact evidence supporting every word. That usually leads to phrases such as “was associated with,” “suggests,” “supports,” or “warrants further investigation” when stronger causal language is not justified.
Careful language does not make your study weaker. It makes your interpretation more credible.
Write the Limitations Yourself Before the Reviewer Does
Every study has limitations, and pretending otherwise does not convince reviewers that your project was flawless. It usually convinces them that you have not thought critically enough about the design.
For retrospective research, limitations may involve selection bias, confounding, missing variables, coding accuracy, sample size, generalizability, multiple comparisons, or the inability to establish causation. Laboratory research can have limitations involving experimental models, sample size, assay characteristics, biological translation, and other design-specific issues.
I have learned to be more direct about limitations because reviewer comments tend to be easier to address when the manuscript has already acknowledged the obvious concerns. Transparency also helps readers understand exactly how much confidence they should place in the findings.
The limitation section should not become an attempt to destroy your own paper either. Explain the important constraints and, when appropriate, why the study still contributes useful information despite them.
How to Write the Conclusion
Some journals use a distinct Conclusion section, while others expect the final paragraph of the Discussion to serve that role. Either way, the conclusion should leave the reader with the main finding and its appropriate significance without introducing entirely new evidence.
I would keep this section relatively concise. If you need five paragraphs to explain the conclusion, the Discussion probably has not yet organized the argument clearly enough.
I also avoid grand claims about changing clinical practice unless the study truly provides evidence at that level. Most research advances knowledge incrementally, and there is nothing wrong with a conclusion explaining that your findings clarify an association, generate a hypothesis, identify a potential biomarker, or support further investigation.
The strongest conclusion is usually the one that accurately represents what the study accomplished.
How to Handle References
Your reference list supports statements about prior evidence and helps readers locate the studies that shaped your reasoning. Citation style differs among journals, so I would use a reference manager rather than manually renumbering fifty references every time a paragraph moves.
Tools such as Zotero, EndNote, Mendeley, or another reference manager can save substantial time. The particular software matters less than creating an organized system that lets you store the citation, PDF, notes, and journal formatting information without repeatedly rebuilding the bibliography.
I also strongly recommend reading the papers you cite. It sounds obvious, but citation chains can make it tempting to cite a source because another paper cited it, and that is how inaccurate statements can continue moving through the literature.
My approach now is much more evidence-focused than it was when I began. I want the citation immediately following a claim to genuinely support that claim rather than merely being a paper about roughly the same topic.
What Is Supplemental Material?
Supplemental material contains useful information that supports the paper but does not fit efficiently into the main manuscript. Depending on the journal and study, this might include additional methods, subgroup analyses, sensitivity analyses, extended tables, secondary figures, questionnaires, code, data dictionaries, or other supporting information.
I would correct another part of the original version of this article here because supplemental material is not simply a place to upload every raw Excel file generated during the project. Journals differ substantially in what supplementary files they accept, and research data may be handled through dedicated repositories or data-sharing systems instead.
Read the journal’s instructions before deciding what belongs in the supplement. The goal is to make the research more transparent and useful without turning the supplemental file into a dumping ground for anything that did not fit into the paper.
How to Choose a Journal for Your Research Paper
Journal selection should begin with fit. Ask whether the journal publishes your type of study, whether its audience would care about the question, and whether similar research has appeared there recently.
I usually look at the journal’s aims and scope, recent publications, article categories, indexing, readership, word and figure limits, open-access options, publication fees, and any special requirements that could affect the submission. Your mentor’s experience is particularly valuable because they often know which journals realistically fit the strength and scope of the study.
Searching the key terms from your manuscript in PubMed can also help. If several studies highly similar to yours repeatedly appear in one journal, that may indicate an audience already interested in the topic.
The goal is not simply finding the highest-numbered journal metric that might theoretically accept the paper. A manuscript sent to a journal whose readers have little interest in the research can be rejected quickly regardless of how strong the study itself is.
What Is a Journal Impact Factor?
The Journal Impact Factor is a journal-level citation metric produced through Clarivate’s Journal Citation Reports. In simplified terms, the standard calculation relates citations received in a given year to qualifying content published by the journal during the preceding two-year window.
I would use impact factor as one piece of information rather than a ranking of individual paper quality. Fields differ enormously in how frequently researchers publish and cite work, which means a strong specialty journal can naturally have a much lower impact factor than a broad journal serving a huge scientific audience.
This is another area where my original article was too simplistic. More citations do not automatically mean that a particular study was “better,” and a journal’s impact factor does not tell you whether your manuscript is rigorous, clinically useful, reproducible, or even relevant to the journal’s readership.
Journal fit, reputation within the specialty, indexing, readership, editorial standards, publication timeline, accessibility, and cost can all matter alongside impact factor.
Publication Fees Are More Complicated Than “Better Journal = More Expensive”
Another correction I would make from my original article is the assumption that submission or publication necessarily costs more as journal prestige increases. Journals use many different financial models, and some charge article-processing fees, some charge only for certain open-access options, some have page or color charges, and others allow publication without an author-facing publication fee.
Always check the journal’s official fee information before submitting. If an article-processing charge is substantial, ask your principal investigator or institution whether grant, departmental, library, or publishing-agreement funding is available rather than assuming you personally need to pay it.
I would be particularly cautious if a journal begins aggressively emailing you, guarantees rapid publication, appears vague about its peer-review process, or makes its fees difficult to understand. A publication only helps your scientific record when the venue itself follows legitimate scholarly standards.
How to Avoid Predatory Journals
Predatory and low-quality journals can imitate legitimate scientific publications surprisingly well. A professional-looking website and the words “international journal” do not tell you whether the journal conducts meaningful peer review or follows appropriate publication standards.
I would begin by asking your mentor whether they know the journal, checking where it is indexed, examining recent articles, reviewing the editorial board, reading the peer-review and ethics policies, and making sure the journal’s aims actually match the manuscript. The ICMJE recommendations also caution authors about predatory and pseudo-journals.
Be especially skeptical of unsolicited emails promising unusually easy or extremely fast publication. Legitimate journals can have fast editorial processes, but a guarantee that practically any manuscript will be accepted after paying a fee should concern you.
For premeds, getting something published quickly is never worth damaging your research credibility by submitting work to a journal that does not meaningfully review it.
What Happens When You Submit a Manuscript?
Submission usually involves much more than uploading one Word document. The journal may require separate files for the manuscript, title page, figures, tables, supplemental files, reporting checklists, conflict-of-interest disclosures, author contribution statements, suggested reviewers, ethical approvals, and a cover letter.
The corresponding author typically handles much of the submission process, but every author should review and approve the final manuscript. I think students should still try to participate in submission when their mentor allows it because seeing the journal portal makes the publishing process much less mysterious.
Before submission, I would do one final consistency check across the manuscript. Make sure the sample size matches everywhere, figures are cited in the proper order, references correspond to the text, abbreviations are defined, conclusions match the results, author information is correct, and the abstract reflects the final analysis rather than an older draft.
A surprising number of manuscript problems come from the project changing during revision while one old number survives somewhere nobody remembered to update.
My Pre-Submission Checklist
Before I consider a manuscript ready to submit, I want the scientific story and the technical details to agree with each other. I would use a checklist like this rather than relying on the fact that everyone is tired of looking at the document.
- Confirm that the research question, primary outcomes, and conclusions match the final analysis.
- Recheck every sample size, percentage, p value, confidence interval, and other major number that appears in the abstract, text, tables, and figures.
- Verify that the Methods accurately describe what was actually done rather than what the team originally planned to do.
- Confirm that every figure and table is cited in order and that legends can be understood without excessive searching through the text.
- Review the study-specific reporting guideline and complete any checklist required by the journal.
- Check the journal’s word count, abstract format, reference limits, figure limits, supplemental-material rules, and formatting requirements.
- Confirm author names, affiliations, order, contribution statements, disclosures, funding acknowledgments, and corresponding-author information.
- Read the manuscript once specifically for overclaiming and make sure causal language is appropriate for the study design.
- Make sure every author has reviewed and approved the version being submitted.
I have learned that this type of structured review is worth the extra time. Finding an error before submission is much easier than explaining the same error after a reviewer, editor, conference attendee, or reader discovers it.
What Happens After Submission?
The first step is usually an editorial screening. The editor may decide that the manuscript does not fit the journal, does not meet its priority threshold, has a major design problem, or otherwise should not move forward to external peer review.
A rejection at this stage does not necessarily mean your research is bad. Sometimes the project simply belongs in a different journal, and experienced researchers become accustomed to adjusting the target rather than interpreting every rejection as a verdict on the entire study.
If the manuscript goes to peer review, experts in the field evaluate the work and provide comments. The eventual decision may be accept, minor revision, major revision, reject with an invitation to resubmit, or rejection, depending on the journal.
The first time you receive several pages of reviewer comments, it can feel brutal. After going through the process repeatedly, I have learned that many of the comments genuinely make the paper clearer or expose issues the authors were too close to the project to see.
How to Respond to Peer Reviewers
Responding to reviewers is a separate writing skill. I usually approach a revision by addressing every individual comment clearly, explaining exactly what changed, and identifying where the revision can be found in the manuscript.
If we disagree with a reviewer, the response should still be professional. You can explain why a requested analysis is inappropriate, impossible, outside the study scope, or unlikely to improve the manuscript, but the explanation should be based on scientific reasoning rather than frustration.
This is an area where my writing has changed significantly with experience. Early in research, criticism felt much more personal because I had spent so much time on the project, while now I try to separate my attachment to the work from the question the reviewer is raising.
Sometimes the reviewer is wrong. Sometimes we are wrong, and sometimes their comment reveals that the manuscript was written so unclearly that a reasonable reader interpreted it differently from what we intended.
All three possibilities are useful information.
Revisions Can Be More Work Than the Original Draft
Students sometimes imagine that once the manuscript is submitted, the research project is essentially finished. A major revision can create another substantial phase involving new analyses, rewritten sections, updated figures, supplemental material, additional literature review, and a detailed response letter.
I have learned to budget time for this rather than mentally moving on the moment the submission confirmation arrives. A project can remain active for months while editors and reviewers ask for changes.
That process is also where careful organization pays off. If your dataset is clean, analysis code is saved, figure-generation workflow is reproducible, and methods are documented, running an additional analysis is much easier than trying to reconstruct what somebody did six months earlier.
Publication is a process rather than a single upload.
What if Your Research Paper Gets Rejected?
Rejection is normal in research, although it certainly does not feel good when you receive the email. A manuscript can be rejected because of journal fit, priority, sample size, methodology, novelty, reviewer concerns, editorial preference, or reasons that do not necessarily mean the research has no value.
The productive response is to determine whether the reviewers identified problems that should be addressed before the next submission. Sometimes you revise heavily, while other times the manuscript itself changes very little and you simply choose a journal that is a better fit.
Research taught me early to become much more comfortable with failure because experiments failed, grants were not always funded, abstracts did not always win, and manuscripts were not always accepted immediately. That pattern has continued throughout my research career, but I have also seen how much stronger projects can become when criticism is treated as information rather than as a reason to quit.
Persistence matters in publishing, but persistence should not mean repeatedly sending an unchanged manuscript somewhere else while refusing to learn from legitimate criticism.
How Long Does It Take to Publish a Research Paper?
There is no reliable universal timeline. Writing can take weeks or months, coauthor review can add additional time, journal review can vary substantially, revisions may happen more than once, and a rejected manuscript may need to restart the process at a new journal.
This is especially important for premeds who believe joining a laboratory in January guarantees a publication before AMCAS in May. Research rarely operates on a schedule designed around your application deadline.
I would therefore join a project because you are interested in the work and can make a meaningful contribution rather than because somebody vaguely suggested that a paper might be submitted soon. Publication is an excellent outcome, but many factors affecting the timeline are outside the student’s control.
If a paper eventually comes from the project, great. You will also be much better prepared to discuss it because you were genuinely involved with the underlying research.
How Do Publications Help With Medical School Applications?
Publications can provide evidence that your research progressed far enough to communicate findings to the scientific community, and the current AMCAS Work and Activities section includes a dedicated Publications experience category. Presentations/Posters and Research/Lab are separate categories, which allows applicants to represent different parts of their scholarly work appropriately.
I would be precise about publication status. Published, accepted or in press, under review, submitted, and in preparation do not mean the same thing, and you should never make unfinished work sound more advanced than it is.
My own research experience was useful to my application because publications were part of a much larger story. I had spent years in laboratories, participated in summer research programs, written grants, presented at conferences, dealt with failed experiments, worked with mentors, and learned how scientific questions move from an idea toward something another researcher can read and evaluate.
That is the story I would want a premed to develop. The citation is an outcome of the research process rather than the only reason to participate in it.
Do You Need to Be First Author for Medical School?
No. First authorship can represent significant responsibility and is certainly worth being proud of, but medical schools do not require every research-involved applicant to have a first-author publication.
Research is collaborative, and students can make legitimate authorship-level contributions while appearing elsewhere in the author list. Your job is to understand and accurately explain your contribution.
If you helped with data collection, analysis, figures, literature review, manuscript drafting, or revisions, know those components well enough to describe what you actually did. I would much rather hear an applicant accurately explain a meaningful middle-author contribution than watch someone claim ownership over a first-author paper they barely understand.
The more involved you become in the writing process, the easier that conversation becomes.
What I Wish I Knew Before My First Publication
I wish I had understood that I was not supposed to know how to write a perfect scientific manuscript on my first attempt. I remember struggling to synthesize large amounts of literature and worrying when my interpretation did not match the way my mentor thought about the field.
That was part of learning.
I also wish I had realized earlier that writing exposes weaknesses in your understanding. If you cannot explain why an experiment was performed, why a statistical test was chosen, why one result matters, or how your work differs from an earlier study, the difficulty writing that paragraph may be telling you that you need to understand the science better.
That has become one of my favorite things about manuscript writing now. Turning a project into a paper forces me to interrogate the research much more deeply than simply looking at the final tables or graphs.
I have carried that lesson into mentoring as well. When I help younger students with research and manuscript writing now, I do not want them merely rearranging sentences because I want them to understand why the argument is organized the way it is and why every conclusion requires evidence.
Your Mentor Should Teach You, Not Write the Entire Paper for You
It is tempting to hand your draft to a faculty mentor and hope they transform it into something publishable. Your mentor will probably make substantial changes early in your research career, but you learn much more when you try to produce a complete section yourself first.
Some of the most useful feedback I received came from seeing exactly how mentors changed my writing. They would remove unsupported claims, reorganize paragraphs, identify missing literature, narrow a conclusion, or ask me a question that exposed something I had not understood.
Over time, I started anticipating those edits.
That progression is the entire point.
You are not helping write manuscripts merely because a publication looks good on a CV. You are learning how researchers communicate evidence, and the only way to become better at that is by actually writing and being corrected.
Ask for Specific Pieces of the Manuscript
If you are an undergraduate in a laboratory and want to become more involved with publications, you do not have to walk into your principal investigator’s office and demand to write the entire paper. Ask whether you can help with a section that aligns with the work you already understand.
If you performed an experiment repeatedly, you may be particularly well positioned to draft the relevant Methods subsection. If you generated a figure, ask whether you can draft the legend and corresponding Results paragraph.
As your understanding grows, volunteer for the literature review, introduction, additional Results sections, or portions of the Discussion. The more useful your drafts become, the more likely mentors are to trust you with larger pieces of future manuscripts.
That is how research responsibility often grows. You prove that you can handle one part well, and the next project gives you more ownership.
Learn to Use Track Changes Without Taking It Personally
One of the funniest things about becoming comfortable with research writing is eventually opening a document covered in edits and no longer interpreting the red text as evidence that you failed. A heavily edited draft can still be a very good draft, particularly when several experienced researchers are trying to make the same paper as precise as possible.
I now expect significant revision. I have had sections I thought were finished reorganized, language softened, figures changed, interpretations narrowed, paragraphs cut, and entire analyses reconsidered because another collaborator saw something differently.
The goal is not preserving your original sentence because you spent twenty minutes writing it. The goal is producing the strongest and most accurate final manuscript the team can create.
That mindset will make publication writing much less painful.
Keep an Organized Research Folder
Organization sounds much less exciting than authorship or publication, but it can determine whether a project becomes easy or miserable to finish. I keep research files structured so the team can distinguish current data, old analyses, figures, manuscript versions, supplemental information, references, reviewer responses, and submission documents.
Version control is particularly important when several people are editing the same paper. You do not want to discover that one collaborator revised manuscript version 12 while someone else made completely different changes to version 13.
Cloud-based collaboration and tracked changes can help, but the research team still needs a clear system. Good organization becomes even more important once you are coordinating several projects simultaneously, which is something I learned quickly as my research involvement expanded during medical school.
A manuscript is much easier to revise when you can immediately locate the exact analysis, table, or figure the reviewer is asking about.
Frequently Asked Questions About Writing and Publishing Research Papers
How do you write a research paper for publication?
Start by making sure the research question, methodology, analysis, and major tables or figures are clearly defined. Then build the manuscript around the study’s logic, with the introduction explaining why the study was needed, the methods explaining what you did, the results showing what you found, and the discussion explaining what those findings mean.
You should also identify the appropriate reporting guideline and review your target journal’s author instructions before the manuscript is finalized. Different study designs and journals have different requirements, so there is no single template that applies perfectly to every publication.
What are the main sections of a scientific research paper?
Original biomedical research commonly uses an Introduction, Methods, Results, and Discussion structure, along with a title, abstract, references, tables, figures, and any required supplemental material. Some journals also use separate conclusion, limitations, acknowledgments, funding, disclosure, and author-contribution sections.
The journal’s instructions ultimately determine the required structure. I would use the common format as your starting framework and then adapt it to the specific journal and article type.
What section of a research paper should you write first?
You do not have to begin with the introduction. For original research, I often think it is easier to establish the final Methods, Results, tables, and figures first because those sections define what the study actually did and found.
The introduction and discussion can then be written around the final scientific story, and the abstract can be finalized once the manuscript is stable. Different researchers have different workflows, so use the order that helps you write accurately and efficiently.
Should you write the abstract last?
I generally recommend finalizing it near the end, even if you create an early draft for a conference or planning purposes. Analyses, terminology, sample sizes, and conclusions can change during manuscript development, so the abstract needs one final review against the completed paper.
This is especially important because many people will read only the abstract. A result that changed in the main manuscript but remained outdated in the abstract can create a significant inconsistency.
How long should a research paper introduction be?
There is no universal length because journals and article types vary. The introduction should be long enough to establish the relevant background, identify the unresolved question, and explain the study objective without becoming a complete review of the field.
I would check several recently published papers from your target journal for a practical sense of the expected length and style. The journal’s official word limit should take priority over any generic number you find online.
How many references should a research paper have?
There is no target number that makes a paper more scientific. The appropriate number depends on the field, article type, novelty of the question, journal requirements, and how much prior literature is necessary to support the manuscript.
I used to think introductions naturally needed enormous reference lists because the papers I was reading contained many citations. I now care much more about whether each important statement is supported by the right evidence than whether the bibliography crosses an arbitrary number.
What belongs in the Results section?
The Results should present the findings generated by the methods and analyses described earlier in the manuscript. Use the text to guide the reader toward the most important findings while allowing tables and figures to carry detailed numerical information.
Avoid turning every result immediately into an explanation of why it occurred. Most interpretation and comparison with prior studies belongs in the Discussion.
What belongs in the Discussion section?
The Discussion explains what the results mean, how they compare with prior research, what potential explanations exist, what the study contributes, what limitations affect interpretation, and what future work may be appropriate. The exact structure varies, but the discussion should remain tied closely to evidence actually generated by the study.
This was the section I struggled with most early in my research experience. Working closely with mentors taught me how much scientific judgment is involved in distinguishing an interesting hypothesis from a conclusion the data truly support.
How do you become an author on a research paper?
Authorship should reflect substantial contribution to the research and manuscript along with responsibility for the published work. The ICMJE criteria are commonly used in biomedical publishing and address contribution, drafting or critical revision, final approval, and accountability.
Talk with your research mentor about authorship expectations instead of assuming that completing a particular number of hours guarantees a position. The most reliable way to increase your contribution is to take genuine ownership of research tasks, analysis, figures, interpretation, and manuscript preparation.
What does first author mean?
In many biomedical fields, the first author made a major contribution and often helped lead substantial portions of the study and manuscript. Exactly what first authorship means varies by team and discipline, particularly when projects use co-first authors or complex collaborative structures.
Do not assume that first authorship simply means writing more words than everybody else. Study design, analysis, data generation, project coordination, interpretation, visualization, and manuscript work can all contribute to the role.
Is the last author always the principal investigator?
Often, but not universally. Many biomedical fields use the final position for the senior investigator, while other fields use different conventions or projects may have shared senior authorship.
The corresponding author is also not automatically the last author. That role refers to the person responsible for communication with the journal and can be held by a different member of the research team.
Do premeds need publications for medical school?
No. Publications can strengthen a research-heavy application, but they are not a universal medical school admissions requirement.
I had significant research involvement when I applied, and publications became part of that larger story, but what helped me most was being able to explain the scientific work itself. A student who understands a meaningful project deeply can have a stronger research experience than someone whose name appears on several papers they barely understand.
Do publications count on AMCAS?
Yes. The current AMCAS Work and Activities section includes Publications as an experience type, while Research/Lab and Presentations/Posters are separate categories.
Be precise about the publication’s actual status and provide accurate citation information. A manuscript that is being drafted should not be described as published, and one that has merely been submitted should not be described as accepted.
Does a middle-author publication still help with medical school?
Yes, particularly when you made a legitimate contribution and can explain what you did. Biomedical research is collaborative, and not every student who contributes substantially to a project will be first author.
Know your role rather than trying to inflate it. If you performed experiments, analyzed data, prepared figures, drafted sections, or helped revise the paper, explain those contributions accurately.
Is first authorship much better for medical school?
First authorship can indicate substantial leadership and ownership, but it is not required for medical school admission. I would not stay in a research environment you dislike solely because you believe you need a first-author publication before applying.
If first authorship develops naturally because you lead a project, that is an excellent accomplishment. The experience will be much more compelling when you can discuss the research question, methodology, challenges, findings, and manuscript process in depth.
How long does peer review take?
There is no universal timeline because journals differ in editorial screening, reviewer availability, revision cycles, and publication workflow. A manuscript can move quickly or remain in review and revision for many months.
That unpredictability is why I would never plan a medical school application around the assumption that a manuscript will definitely be published by a particular date. Focus on producing rigorous work and report its status accurately whenever you apply.
What happens if a reviewer asks for something you disagree with?
Discuss the comment with your coauthors and determine whether the requested change would improve the manuscript or whether there is a scientific reason not to make it. When you disagree, respond respectfully and explain the reasoning clearly rather than ignoring the comment.
I have learned that reviewer disagreement does not need to become confrontational. A thoughtful explanation supported by the study design or evidence is much more persuasive than simply telling the reviewer that the authors prefer the original version.
Is getting a research paper rejected normal?
Yes. Rejection occurs throughout academic research, including for experienced investigators, and it does not automatically mean the study was worthless.
Use the decision and reviewer comments to determine what should be improved before the next submission. Sometimes the journal was simply a poor fit, while other times the criticism reveals a real weakness that should be addressed.
How do I find a journal for my research paper?
Start with journals publishing recent work similar to your study and check their aims, scope, article types, indexing, audience, requirements, and fees. Your mentor can also help you identify journals with a realistic fit based on the project’s methodology and strength.
I would not choose exclusively by impact factor. A respected specialty journal read by researchers in your field can be a much better home for a focused project than a broader journal with a larger citation metric.
Do you have to pay to publish scientific research?
Not always. Publication costs vary substantially among journals and can depend on the journal’s business model, open-access option, article type, page or figure policies, institutional agreements, and other factors.
Do not assume you personally need to pay an article-processing charge either. Research grants, departments, universities, libraries, and institutional publishing agreements may provide support depending on your project and institution.
How do you know whether a journal is predatory?
Look at the journal’s indexing, editorial board, peer-review process, ethics policies, publisher, recent articles, fees, and reputation within the field. Discuss the journal with an experienced mentor before submitting when you are uncertain.
Be particularly cautious with unsolicited messages promising guaranteed or unusually easy publication. A legitimate scientific journal should evaluate whether the research actually meets its editorial and scientific standards.
Can an undergraduate write a scientific publication?
Absolutely. My own publication experience began during undergraduate research, and learning to write sections of manuscripts was one of the ways I gradually became more independent as a researcher.
You do not need to know how to write an entire paper on day one. Start with the portion of the project you understand best, ask your mentor for feedback, study papers in your field, and gradually take on more responsibility.
