Alright, let me tell you about the time I nearly melted down trying to finish my college history paper at 2 AM. Picture this: Dunkin’ Donuts cold brew sweating on my desk, laptop glowing like a campfire, and me staring at the screen thinking, “How do I end this thing without sounding like a broken record?” (Spoiler: My first attempt? A cringe-worthy copy-paste of the intro paragraph with a “So in conclusion…” slapped on top. My professor’s red pen still haunts me.)
Here’s what I’ve learned after 4 years of writing everything from PTA newsletters to tech blog posts:
A great conclusion isn’t a summary — it’s the mic drop. Remember that time your buddy told a campfire story that ended with, “And that’s why I never trust a squirrel”? You want that same lingering “Ohhh” feeling. For my Civil Rights Movement essay, instead of rehashing dates, I tied Rosa Parks’ bus protest to modern-day movements like #BlackLivesMatter. My professor wrote “Powerful connection!” in the margins. (Cue the Rocky music.)
Try this trick I stole from my kid’s middle school teacher:
Start your last paragraph with “If there’s one thing to take away…” — forces you to pinpoint the BIG idea. When I wrote about climate change for our town council, I ditched the doom-and-gloom stats and ended with: “Next time you see a kid selling lemonade on a 90-degree day, ask yourself: What’s cheaper — fixing our AC addiction now, or buying her a lifeboat later?” Suddenly, people actually showed up to the town hall meeting.
Watch out for these face-palm moments I survived so you don’t have to:
- The “Surprise Plot Twist” — Never introduce new facts. (Yes, I once tried sneaking in a statistic about alpaca farming in a paper about WWII. Don’t be me.)
- The “Dictionary Definition” — Your reader didn’t forget what “justice” means in 5 pages.
- The “So Anyway…” — If your conclusion starts feeling like a TikTok scroll session, you’ve lost the thread.
My go-to template when I’m stuck (shh, don’t tell my English major friends):
- Echo the hook: That cool opening line about TikTok trends? Revisit it, but darker.
- Connect the dots: Show how your grandma’s quilting hobby explains NASA’s engineering failures. Seriously — metaphors stick.
- End with a “But wait…” Pose a question even you can’t fully answer. My best grade ever came from ending a psychology paper with: “We’ll keep studying sibling rivalry… but maybe the real question is why my sister still owes me $20 from 2007.”
Funny thing? The more conclusions I write, the less I stress. These days, I treat them like saying goodbye at a backyard BBQ — you want folks remembering the homemade pie, not the burnt burgers. Grab your metaphorical pie server and try this: Reread your first paragraph, then write the conclusion like you’re explaining your paper to a curious neighbor over the fence. Works better than any AI tool I’ve tried.
Oh, and if all else fails? Do what I did with that history paper: Delete the last line. Sometimes “mic drop” just means stopping while you’re ahead. (P.S. Got a B+. Not bad for a sleep-deprived squirrel moment.)
Your turn: Open that doc, scroll past the intro, and pretend you’re texting your most opinionated friend why this topic matters. Hit send. Then delete the emojis. You’ve got this.