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The competition for artist grants is stiff. The statistics can be sobering, if not depressing. For example, Creative Capital receives two thousand to three thousand applications for forty-five grants. But before you decide that grants aren’t worth your time, dig into the numbers. Although an exact figure is impossible to calculate, several grant officers told me that some applications are disqualified before they are even read. The applicant either didn’t follow directions or wasn’t an appropriate match for the grant—something the grant writer should have figured out before submitting the application. So, you’re really not competing with everyone who drops an application into a mailbox. You’re only in competition with the other A-plus efforts—which is a much smaller pool.

​Using Creative Capital as an example, out of the more than two thousand submissions they receive, six hundred are asked to submit a more detailed application. So the numbers look much better after the first cut. From those six hundred applications, two hundred and fifty are reviewed by a panel that chooses forty-five grant awardees. Yes, the competition is extremely stiff at these last stages. But it’s not as if you’re in competition with the three thousand who applied in the beginning.

At the local level, the numbers are a little more heartening. For its 2011 fellowships, the South Carolina Arts Commission received 119 applications for four artist awards. In 2010, the commission launched a new grant to support “artist-driven, arts-based business ventures that will provide career satisfaction and sustainability for South Carolina artists.” About forty artists considered applying, fourteen submitted “intents to apply,” seven were invited to submit applications, six submitted applications, and two artists were funded.

So even if the numbers appear daunting, if you and your project are a good match for the grant, apply anyway. To ensure that your application rises to the top of the heap and doesn’t get cut in the first or second pass, evaluate your proposal from the funder’s viewpoint.

​See Through Their Eyes

In my grant-writing workshops, we play a game where I give participants an imaginary $5,000 to bequeath to an artist. I then invite an artist to describe a project she wants to get funded. After the participants listen to her presentation, I ask, “Are you ready to write a check? If not, what more do you need to know about this project to convince you to support this artist?”

Moments ago, these artists walked into the workshop thinking they knew nothing about grant writing. Then, by posing as donors, they transformed into ruthless philanthropists full of questions. Even their body language changed; slouchers sat up straight and leaned in. Hands shot up. Questions ensued: How will the money be spent? How will the project be carried out? Who is on your team? What is the timeline? Where is the venue? How is this project meeting a need? Why are you the best person for the job? and so on. These unsure artists become shrewd patrons, just by shifting their perspective.

Play this game as you edit your grant application. Step into the funder’s shoes. By now in your process, you should know what matters to them. If you don’t, continue your research. Talk to others who’ve been funded by them. See what other projects they’ve funded. This game forces you to scrutinize your project from every angle. How could it better fit the mission of the granting organization? What is still unresolved? Would you fund this project? Why or why not? You may even identify some strengths of your proposal that you hadn’t noticed.

This game helps you ask the toughest questions. Don’t be afraid of such a rigorous process—it’s the process the funder will use. And it lets you know if your project is ready. Funders want clarity, specifics, and accountability. If your application doesn’t pass your own scrutiny, take the time to flesh it out or propose a different project that’s more fully realized.

Another way to stand in the funder’s shoes is to think about how you’re a philanthropist right now. How do you decide which causes to support? When a solicitation letter arrives in the mail, what prompts you to give sometimes and not others? What makes you give your own money away?

​I donate to the Humane Society and to causes that help women in developing countries start their own businesses. I support Oregon Public Broadcasting, and I’ve written checks to local theater groups, environmental causes, and political campaigns. What ties all these things together? I believe in these organizations and care about their missions; I want to help. I’m excited about dogs finding good homes, impoverished women earning money through entrepreneurship, and the local theater company staging another year of performance.

If you think about the causes you donate to, you’ll see that they reflect your values and show what you believe in, and care about. Your grant application must persuade another person to believe in and care about your project. Make your enthusiasm contagious. Show that what you do is exciting. That’s what it takes to convince somebody to write you a check. It’s what happens to you when you donate, and it’s what needs to happen to your potential donors.

Skeptics might say, “It’s easier to get people to care about homeless dogs and public radio. Those projects are necessary.” So, ask yourself: How is your project necessary? How is it needed? How will it expand someone else’s experience of the world? How will it start a revolution?

One of the best ways to practice seeing through the grantor’s eyes is to serve on a panel that awards funding. If you’re invited, jump at the chance, and if not, call a local arts organization and volunteer. The job is unpaid and requires long hours, but it’s the quickest route to learning how to write winning proposals.

“Reviewing applications on a grant panel changed my entire understanding of the granting process,” said Jeffrey Selin, writer and cofounder of the Writers’ Dojo in Portland, Oregon. He noticed that most unsuccessful applicants “breezed by key points and assumed that we knew ​what they were thinking,” he said after serving on a panel to award literary grants. Successful applicants “had the white-hot desire that ‘this project needs to happen,’ Those were the applications that impressed us, but it wasn’t expressed in an egoistic or pompous way,” he added. They explained their projects with detail and enthusiasm, and showed the panel what made their projects both relevant and exciting.

Study the Review Criteria

Many granting organizations provide a list of the criteria they will use to judge your application. This list isn’t as exciting as the answers to a final exam, but it does explain how your application will be scored and what’s most and least important to the funder. Read these criteria many times throughout your writing process.

For example, if you apply for a Community Arts and Culture Grant from the Hillsboro Arts and Culture Council, the application packet includes one page of Review Criteria detailing how your application will be judged. You will receive up to fifty points on the overall merit of your proposal, up to thirty points on how your project will impact the community, up to fifteen points for your marketing plan, and up to five points for your evaluation plan for a total potential score of one hundred points. The criteria also explain exactly how each category will be judged.

You should use this criteria list to scrutinize your proposal throughout the writing process. It’s the most helpful cheat sheet you’ll find.

Imagine Your Reader

Author and visual artist Mira Bartók, who dispenses grant-writing advice monthly to thousands of readers on her blog, Mira’s List, has noticed that people “who might write beautiful letters sit down to write a grant and suddenly they sound overly academic and stiff.” To help loosen up, ​she suggests grant writers “Imagine the person across the table from you. Then tell him a story.”

If you write your grant to the brick wall of an institution, it’s easy to sound generic and impersonal. Instead, visualize the person reading your application as someone waiting to fall in love with a project that matters. Your voice is more likely to be authentic and passionate.

Tell a Story

Well-written proposals tell a story, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning is what you’ve done as an artist previously, the middle is where you are now, and the end is where you want to take your work next. “You want to write about how your new project is a movement forward,” said Bret Fetzer, who received funding from Washington’s Artist Trust to write six new American fairy tales. He told this story in his winning grant application:

In his application, Fetzer wrote about the work he’d been doing for twenty years (the beginning), then referenced a successful example of a new kind of fairy tale he’d just finished and that took his work in a new direction (the middle). And then, building on this recent success, he explained how he wanted to write six new stories in this new and exciting form (the end).

Convey a Confident Attitude

Although you’ll never actually write “My project will happen with or without this grant” on your application, foster this attitude as you write and edit your proposal. Nobody, least of all funders, likes a needy person who can’t do anything on his own.

Back your own project with everything you’ve got. Show the funder that you care more about your project than about their money. Your own belief in your project makes it enticing. Demonstrate how resourceful you are and how much you’re sticking your own neck out. When one avenue was blocked, how did you find an alternate route?

Reflect this attitude in the language you use throughout your proposal and in your budget. For example, as suggested in the “Good Writing Principles” section in chapter 5 (this page), avoid conditional verbs (like “could” and “would”) in favor of the present or future tense (like “is” and “will”) and see how much more determined you sound.

Play Devil’s Advocate

As you scrutinize your grant application pay attention to any nagging feelings you have about what the funder might object to. Rather than shove your feeling aside, bring your concern into the light. This is the time to be a harsh critic of your project—not to kibosh your idea but to make sure that you’ve thought through every possible objection.

I once applied for a professional development grant to attend an expensive writing workshop. As I finished the application I suddenly felt sick about one potential problem with my request: I had already studied with this teacher. Wouldn’t the funder be more interested in funding a new experience? So, I asked myself, Is there any advantage to studying with the same teacher twice? What benefit could I highlight? Should I just scrap the whole proposal right now?

​Then it hit me. One benefit of having studied with this teacher in the past was that I already knew she was a great instructor. I had learned much from her and was primed to learn even more. There wouldn’t be a breaking in period. I knew the quality of what I would receive because I’d already experienced it. Rather than try to hide the fact I’d already studied with her, I highlighted this additional benefit.

Flush out any possible weaknesses in your proposal and ask yourself, Is there any way this is a benefit? You may be surprised by what you discover. Or, you may unearth a true weakness that you can now address.

Be Realistic

Novice grant writers often make promises or set goals in their applications that they couldn’t possibly achieve. No project is going to bring world peace. The smaller, more focused your goal, the better. Funders want to see goals that are achievable and realistic. Your goal should line up with what you’ve already achieved. Is this project too big a stretch for you? If it is, then maybe you can collaborate with someone who has complementary skills so that the goal will be achievable.

For now, the only task left is for you to finesse the most important elements of your proposal: your artist statement and work sample. You’ve told the funders what you want to do; now show them what you’ve done and why you’re the only person for the job.

In one paragraph, write the story of your project. Where did you start? Where are you now? Where are you going? What happened along the way that compelled you to take this path and not another? Whom did you meet? What influenced you? Then, write a second version and exaggerate the details or tell it in a more dramatic way than it may have ​really happened. When you’re done, incorporate whichever parts of the exaggerated version still ring true into your grant proposal.