A Hopeful Beginning
The foundation of this paper began not as a journal submission, but as a research proposal for a Master degree program in sustainability. When I first inquired about the program after graduating with my bachelor's degree, full funding was not an option. However, a few months later in October, the university marketing team reached out to let me know a full-scholarship track had opened up. I was eager to try.
During the university open day, I had an incredibly encouraging conversation with one of the faculty professors. I shared my background with him, explaining that I had previously published a paper as a first author in a Q3 Scopus journal and had spent 1 year working in the green building sector. He was genuinely delighted to find an applicant interested in the demanding research track of their mixed-course program. This alignment felt especially meaningful because the university maintained a strict graduation requirement for students to publish in a Q1 journal.
During conversations with other candidates at the open day, I noticed many were content with accepting standard 30% or 50% partial grants without sitting for further examinations. Realizing that a partial scholarship would not be financially viable for me, I knew my only path forward was to aim for the 100% full-funding track. I chose to take the formal scholarship test instead. I put my absolute best effort into the examination with the hope of making my future studies financially feasible. Simultaneously, I also began drafting my research proposal.
An Unexpected Pivot
Unfortunately, administrative logistics can sometimes take unexpected turns. When the initial email notification arrived, it was for a 50% partial grant. Knowing this was not a suitable path for me, I politely informed the senior marketing representative that I would not be able to proceed with enrollment. The next day, I received a follow-up email clarifying that due to a miscommunication, the offer was actually a 50% scholarship for the 1st year only, which was half of what was offered the previous day.
It was a deeply disheartening moment. It is tough to navigate a process where you feel a strong mutual connection with the faculty, only to have the practical and financial framework shift so suddenly. The abrupt change in terms after such a welcoming open day experience felt incredibly confusing. Realizing the numbers simply did not work, I made the difficult decision to walk away and withdraw my application entirely.
Testing the Work Independently
With my application withdrawn, the research proposal sat idle in my file. I still believed in the core ideas regarding sustainable energy transitions, so I decided to reshape the framework into a full manuscript. I submitted it to a Q2 Scopus-indexed journal to see if the ideas could stand on their own merit within the global scientific community.
Then came the next twist in the rollercoaster ride: the Q2 journal declined the paper.
However, the editor kindly threw me a lifeline by suggesting a journal transfer. Looking through the publisher transfer options, I noticed several high-tier Q1 journals on the list. Because the transfer included a conditional APC waiver to one of the options, I figured there was no harm in trying. I remember thinking that if it got rejected again, I would still learn a lot from the peer review feedback for my next academic application.
I chose a Q1 journal, submitted the manuscript through the transfer network, and let it go. To my complete surprise, after a rigorous round of peer review and careful revisions, the reviewers and editors accepted the paper.
Lessons Learned Along the Way
It is a strange, humbling feeling to realize that I ended up meeting the exact Q1 publication milestone required by that program, just through a completely different door.
For fellow early-career researchers who might be facing funding hurdles or sudden changes in plans, my experience taught me that an apparent roadblock is often just a redirection. If a door closes due to administrative or financial mismatches, it does not mean your ideas lack value.
Academic paths are rarely linear. By staying open to unexpected opportunities and focusing on the research itself, we can often find a community ready to welcome our work, even if it is not the one we originally anticipated.