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When it comes to big writing projects – from federal grants to complex foundation proposals – a simple, coherent plan can help you get the job done, done better, and done on time.

The benefits 

• It’s worth an hour at the start of a big project to create a plan and review it with the project team.
• A project plan informs all team members about each person’s role, what’s needed, and when.
• It provides an opportunity to discuss and agree on a new program model.
• The plan builds commitment and camaraderie. Both contribute to quality and a much more sane experience.
• The best plans anticipate setbacks. A strong team leader tries to avoid them while adapting to shifts when needed.

Lessons learned

• Don’t delay. As soon as you know you’re going for the grant, start planning.
• A thoughtful plan maximizes the time you have to complete a quality product.
• Well-developed plans can identify time wasters, for example by avoiding nice-to-have meetings in favor of those linked directly to grant requirements.
• The more grant reviewers you have, the more time you’ll need.
• Good writing takes time. Plan for it.

The plan can include all the steps needed to complete the grant package, or focus on certain parts of the project. The example below is the model I use. It describes a six-week turnaround for a grant narrative.

Parting thoughts
Even if adjustments are needed, a plan will help you stay on track. And by the way, this process can be used for anything from decluttering to planning your  holiday menu.

In second grade I got As in penmanship. Now, my handwriting is a mess. It’s been bothering me for a while, but there never seemed to be a reason to do anything about it.

Recently, however, as I looked at the jar on my desk crammed with pens and markers, I realized my obsession with this collection might be about more than an opportunity to write in pretty colors. It was a call to action to improve my handwriting.

I’m sure by now you’re wondering what this has to do with writing for donors. I’ve learned that in order to write neatly by hand, I have to slow down. And slowing down has benefits for writing documents for funders.

• I think more carefully about what I want to write, why I want to write it, and why it’s important.
• I take stock and have new ideas.
• I can better absorb, assess, and make use of the voluminous information needed for a complex RFP.
• I see the forest for the trees. Grants require both creativity (new ways to write about solving big problems) and precision (sentence construction, word choice). Slowing down helps.
• It also improves quality.

Last, but certainly not least, when I slow down my handwriting improves. This is a source of great satisfaction, and relief. I can write neatly after all.

Naturally, we can’t write proposals by hand. Nor do you have to handwrite anything at all to improve your writing. Slowing down, however, may be helpful.

I spend a lot of time thinking about brevity in writing. Many of my projects have word limits so keeping it short is an essential skill. More important, I like the impact of a tightly written document. 

I’ve written about brevity before. Since I think it’s important, I decided to write more. However, despite years of experience, I got stuck. Then I saw this:

“Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.” Mark Twain

In an instant, I was transformed from frustrated to inspired. 

So, here are some suggestions based on what I’ve learned about writing short documents. 

• Read. Anything. The news, a novel, poetry, magazines, and especially funding appeals. You’ll find plenty of examples of how to get and keep attention, or how to lose it. I appreciate essays by Darren Walker, president of the Ford Foundation. He says a lot in a few lines.
• Practice. There are many opportunities: Email, memos, reports, or the hastily written notes we leave for our kids on the kitchen counter.
• Edit carefully. Short doesn’t mean quick. Give yourself the time you need to make your document stand out.
• Resist (some) word limits. They can be abnormally high. If this is the case avoid the urge to use the full allowance while modeling a better approach for the funder.
• Be creative. For example, invent phrases that get attention. I used “old-meets-modern” to describe a renovation. Or, use lyrical writing as a tool for reader engagement.
• Be ruthless. Don’t hesitate to delete words you at first think are excellent but later realize aren’t necessary. You might decide to cut phrases or even whole sentences.
• Declutter. Most federal grants are tedious, and so are far too many foundation proposals. Even if the funding guidelines go on and on, you don’t have to. I believe a succinct proposal gets more attention, and it’s certainly appreciated. 
• Energize. Try short sentences, plain language, and straightforward narrative to create energy and movement.
• Use bullets. They can help simplify descriptions of complex programs, the roles of key players, or a sustainability strategy.

In summary

Your programs are too important to get lost in a sea of words. The funder will appreciate a crisp approach and likely read your proposal from start to finish, while you enjoy the satisfaction of a job well done. 

Change is not easy, but it’s necessary
I’ve been thinking about equity in writing, especially in grant writing. As seekers of funds and educators about our programs, we have an opportunity—and an obligation—to think carefully about the words we use.

For example, in an earlier draft of this article I wrote: Those of us who write grants often describe people who have less than we do.

Now, I see that I’m making assumptions about what is less and what is more. Someone may have less of one thing, say income or education, but more of another, perhaps musical talent or an aptitude for science.

I tried this: We write about people who need our help. I looked at these last three words, which are ubiquitous in our field, and cringed.

I realized I needed help, so I called on my colleague Debra Farrar-Parkman, Director of Development at East Boston Neighborhood Health Center.

Our goal for this article is to raise questions and encourage readers to be thoughtful when choosing words for proposals, reports, or other documents for donors. Here are some ideas.

Put yourself in the other person’s shoes.
For example, how might a homeless person want to be described? As a person sleeping on a park bench or one without a physical address, or no permanent home? Is homeless descriptive or derogatory? Many people have begun to use the term housing insecure, but what about trying unhoused instead?

Or, take single mothers, often described as low-income and unable to feed their children or house their families. We could flip the script. Single mothers are expert jugglers. They pay the bills, get the kids to school, and manage crises such as a car that needs repairs. We could choose to describe them as resilient, capable, and tireless.

Call it what it is.
Think about the term historically underrepresented. What does it mean, and why are people historically underrepresented? We might say: There are fewer people of color in (for example) the sciences due to the continuing impact of racism in our country.

Here are some other ideas. We could say unserved instead of at risk; underresourced instead of experiencing poverty; living on the edge, instead of living in poverty. Consider asking your clients, patients, or participants in your programs how they would prefer to be described in your proposals.

Take that extra minute.
In our business, we have to work fast to meet deadlines. Give yourself the time you need to identify words that are respectful of everyone represented in your writing. In our field, it’s at the core of what we do.

Recently I read an article by Rachel Syme in the New Yorker about deadlines, and I knew I had the topic for my next article. It’s amazing to me that I haven’t written about this topic before now. In our business, deadlines are part of daily life. Sometimes they spill over into our personal lives.

Most high-stakes projects – foundation grants, federal grants, state grants, reports, cases for support, and letters to donors – have deadlines. Some are firm (5:00 p.m. on Friday), and some are internally imposed deadlines that, frankly, can be just as hair-raising.

Symes writes that people approach deadlines differently.

Some (well-adjusted, diligent) people jump in, figuring that the anxiety of an unpaid bill or an unfinished project is far more painful than the difficulty of sticking to a sensible schedule. But others, like me, live in blissful denial – at least until the last minute, when… we bolt to the end, vowing that we’ll do it all differently next time.¹

Strategies
Whatever your style, here are some ideas about how to manage this unfortunate fact of a grant writer’s life.

• Educate the team. Not everyone is deadline-savvy. Make a plan that describes what’s involved, who’s doing what, what you need, and when. Explain why it’s important, and the risk to quality of going to the wire.
• Focus on the finish line. Remind yourself of that blissful moment when you click send and the project that’s been driving you nuts is suddenly just a distant memory.
• Plan your reward. Do this as soon as you start your project, to allow plenty of time for joyful anticipation of a day off or a trip for ice cream.
• Enjoy the perks. When we’re in the throes of a deadline, friends and colleagues may commiserate, buy us coffee, or help us get other things done. And don’t forget that a deadline is a great excuse to avoid doing the laundry.
• Make it fun. It’s possible. Expressions of appreciation for the person who’s slogging through the budget can spur energy and determination.
• Put your experience to work. Daily life is full of deadlines – getting to the dentist on time, preparing to move, and the big one – filing taxes. The next time you face a grant deadline, remember you’re a pro and this project is a piece of cake.
• Address stress. Even a short break can help. One day, realizing I had to knuckle down for a few more hours to meet a deadline, I closed my computer, relocated, and did nothing, for just a few minutes. I was astounded to find I now had the energy to finish the job.

Finally, deadlines are a fact of life so we might as well accept it. Once, when I told my son I couldn’t talk at that moment because I had a deadline, he said “You always have a deadline!” I got the message and am trying to chill out about it.

I hope these ideas are helpful. But now I’ve got to run. I’ve got a deadline!

1 Rachel Syme, “Clock’s Ticking: Can deadlines bring us to life?,” New Yorker, July 5, 2021, 26.