Dr Sarah Golding: Learning to write grants, one step at a time

To succeed in the world of research, you need to become successful at grant writing. Regardless of whether you work in a university, NGO, consultancy, or public body, your time, your colleagues’ time, and the resources you want to use, all need to be funded.

Ever since completing my PhD in 2020, this nagging sense of “must learn to write grants” has hovered over me. Yet, the whole grant writing process felt entirely opaque. I suspected it would be a steep learning curve (on top of all the other pressures of being an early career researcher) – a mountain I was not sure I wanted to climb – and I must admit that it felt so overwhelming that I mostly ignored my own internal nagging.

However, in early 2025, I decided it was time to face my fears and see if I could learn to navigate my way through this daunting world of unfamiliar terminology, hidden processes, and uncertain expectations. I knew there would be plenty to learn – and that it would take time and effort – but decided to lean into the discomfort and trust in the learning journey. Every summit attempt starts with a first step.

Overcoming inertia: get learning

My first hurdle to overcome was understanding the jargon. Grant writing is like its own little world, with its own language, norms, timeframes and systems. No one gives you the map, let alone the legend for reading the map. At the start of this journey, I was baffled by conversations filled with unfamiliar terms. Was I proposing to work with collaborators or partners? What is FEC* and why does it even matter? What is a Fellowship and how is it different from other funding opportunities? How and when should I seek a letter of support? How could I cost myself in as an ECR on a fixed-term contract? And what order should I do everything in?

To increase my understanding of these terms and develop my mental map of the grant writing process, I attended training sessions on devising research strategies and project proposals. I also had 1-1 sessions with other expert knowledge holders within my university, such as research support teams and costings officers. This helped me establish a foundation from which to build. I had reached base camp.

Next, I needed to more fully develop my research ideas and decide where I wanted to focus my efforts – I have worked on several projects as a postdoctoral researcher, across different topic areas, involving various methods and applications. What do I want to happen next? With whom do I want to collaborate? What type of researcher do I want to become? Where is my current expertise and how do I want to grow that? What do I want to become know for?

I realized the most effective way to explore these questions is through conversation with other researchers, including beyond the grant team. Early on, my ideas felt vague and underdeveloped but sharing ideas in research groups and with more senior colleagues helped me refine my thinking, better identify gaps, and begin to articulate a clearer research “story” – what I wanted to do, with whom, and why. These conversations also helped grant colleagues develop a shared understanding of our proposed projects. And over time, I began to recognize and believe what I can contribute to a team – my own research perspectives, my skills as an interdisciplinary researcher, and my passion for One Health challenges. Together we can climb this mountain.

Through these conversations, I also realized that it is ok to sometimes say no to potential grant writing collaborations. Having a research strategy – as well as a realistic workload assessment for existing commitments – can help with knowing which opportunities to pour your efforts into. Like any other early career researcher on a fixed term contract, I already had other papers and blogs and reports that needed to be written – and taking on a grant application can become yet another distraction. It is important to take risks and get involved in applications, especially if the call is highly relevant or you really want to work with certain people – but it is also important to not over-commit to ensure that other deliverables (and your own wellbeing) are not neglected.

Finally, I had to embrace the fact that the real learning comes from doing. The only way to summit, is to persevere – one step and then another, even when the mist swirls and obscures the view. Throughout 2025 I had the opportunity to collaborate on two UKRI grant applications, which gave me a much deeper understanding of how grants take shape. I was able to read previously submitted grants to see how budgets were structured, ethics statements written, and risk mitigation considered.

By co-authoring these grants with experienced senior colleagues, I gained insights into how important it is to write well – grants need to clearly articulate the problem you are seeking to address, specify tangible milestones and deliverables, and build a strong case for impact (whether academic and/or societal). This also means being pragmatic about project scope, as there is a tension between being ambitious while also being realistic about budgets and a team’s ability to deliver. Working in collaborative teams, I also gained insight into how iterative grant writing can be – aims, scope, methods could change from week to week, as ideas were expanded and discarded through ongoing discussion with grant colleagues.

Moving forward: get writing

However, no one is going to fund a discussion. Ultimately, grant applications need to be written and submitted. Like any other form of academic writing, this requires dedicated time to enable ideas to be developed and refined.

I found that scheduling regular writing time focused on a specific grant was hugely beneficial. It gave me time to read supporting documents, draft and edit sections of the grant, and comment on text from co-authors. Sometimes I arranged ‘virtual writing circles’ with co-authors, as writing can be easier when undertaken together – we would meet online for 10 minutes, then collectively work for a pre-agreed chunk of time on different sections of the grant, then meet again to discuss and refine our ideas and agree actions.

And then, in January 2026, I did it (well, my colleagues and I did it!) – we submitted what was my first grant as Researcher-CoLead. I was utterly elated. Partly because it felt hugely rewarding to have completed the application (even if the odds of success are against us) – but mostly because I was able to see how far I had come. I had summitted the mountain at last and the view was exhilarating.

Of course, I do not in any way claim to now be a grant writing expert – and I do not even know if that first application will be successful! But while the grant writing process still feels complex and somewhat time-consuming, it no longer feels so opaque to me. I have a newfound confidence, knowing I can apply my learnings from these first applications to others I am collaborating on. The mists have cleared a little. I have something of a useable map. And ahead of me is an enticing mountain range of peaks. My job now is to choose which ones I want to climb.

*Full Economic Cost