One of my favorite grant gurus is Cheryl Clarke—a fundraising consultant in Mill Valley, Calif.; author of Storytelling for Grantseekers: A Guide to Creative Nonprofit Fundraising and co-author with Susan P. Fox, CFRE of Grant Proposal Makeover: Transform Your Request from No to Yes. I’ve had the opportunity to hear her speak and she inspires me to do better and be more in my own writing. Cheryl is brilliant and super savvy!
A few years ago, Cheryl wrote a wonderful article for AFP’s Advancing Philanthropy called “Tell an Effective Story in A Twitter Grant Proposal”. She wrote about the value and constraints of online grant applications (oh, that’s a whole ‘nother post). Cheryl also offered incredibly insightful ideas about how to use word/character limits to your advantage as a grant writer and how you can still let your personality shine through. Paring down your best information into limited spaces will make your proposal more thoughtful, concise and readable. These requirements can be frustrating, but also a great exercise in getting to what you really want to say.
“In a ‘sound bite” age, proposal writers are compelled to write ‘low-fat proposals’ when using electronic application forms. The key to successful writing is knowing not only what to trim, but also what to include so that the final results is a well-sculpted tale.”
~Cheryl Clarke
I spend time every day connecting with people all over the world because of Twitter and it’s remarkable that we can communicate in 140 characters or less about sophisticated (and not so sophisticated) matters. We need to cut the fluff and just leave the good stuff if we want our tweets to fit into the tiny box on the screen. Cheryl got me thinking, “why can’t we think like this when we create a proposal narrative?”
Here are few ways that I am attempting to Twitterfy my proposal narratives:
Be concise.
The best advice is “when in doubt, take it out”. I don’t live by this often enough and need to be reminded that I’m not selling the next "great manuscript" to Random House. I’m trying to win funding for an organization. Funders don’t care how many fancy words I know. They care about how I can communicate.
Don’t use $100 words when $10 words will do.
I know lots of big words, fancy words, archaic words and words that could kick serious butt in a Scrabble game. I also know that not everyone cares about that. When writing a proposal narrative, I try to look at big words, jargon and industry-speak from the outside perspective. Would your grandmother know what you mean? Would she fund the proposal? Don’t use “somatic cell nuclear transfer” when “cloning” means the same thing. Get it?
Show, do not tell (Thanks, Cheryl).
Telling the funder that what you are doing is innovative, unique (Worst. Word. Ever…in proposal narratives—avoid if at all possible) or groundbreaking—then prove it. How are you innovative? What outcomes demonstrate innovation? Anyone can say they are innovative…show me!
Proof. Proof. Proof and then get an editor to look at it again.
My tweets are not always error-free. I make mistakes when I write 140 characters in haste. However, there is no room for error in a proposal, especially one with character limits. Spell check. Proofread and give yourself time for the editing process. Don’t rush it just because it is an online application. Don’t leave anything unfinished.
Finally, have an editor or colleague give you feedback and a fresh perspective. I have a fabulous, talented and honest editor who I employ on all types of proposals. When I know that my time is limited or I have a lot on my plate (which increases the chance for error), she is an invaluable resource.
Finally, have an editor or colleague give you feedback and a fresh perspective. I have a fabulous, talented and honest editor who I employ on all types of proposals. When I know that my time is limited or I have a lot on my plate (which increases the chance for error), she is an invaluable resource.
Happy Tweeting…
~Cheers!

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