​LESSON 6

WRITING (PROPOSALS) WITH STYLE: 12 BASIC RULES

OPENING REMARKS

A friend of mine, an experienced and successful proposal writer, told me (with some embarrassment) that every time she starts to write a grant proposal, she cuts and pastes words, phrases, paragraphs, and pages from old proposals she has written, even when they have no relation to the current proposal and make absolutely no sense.

“Why?” I asked, surprised that such an expert would resort to this.

“Because I panic—and freeze—when I’m confronted with the blank page,” she admitted.—EK

LEADING QUESTIONS

Shouldn’t It Be Pretty Easy Just to Tell a Reader About My Great Program in My Own Words?

If you believe that, we have a swell bridge to sell you. Many important elements separate winning grant proposals from those that are turned down. One element that often is neglected is the actual writing style. Some proposal writers don’t think enough about stylish writing because they are too busy trying to make sense of the ​application and attempting to flesh out the program… with an immovable deadline that is just around the corner. They cross their fingers, hoping that their responses to all the questions the grantmaker asks will glide—error-free and in appropriate language—onto the blank computer screen (in 12-point type, with adequate margins, and in the required number of words and pages).

No such luck. Although grantmakers don’t usually comment about the quality of the writing unless it’s so bad that they can’t make heads or tails of the proposal, they notice it, so you’ve got some work ahead.

DISCUSSION

There has been a lot of hand-wringing about the sorry state of writing lately, with people lamenting that “no one can write a decent sentence anymore” (and those who write grant proposals aren’t immune from this charge). Teachers, employers, grantmakers, and just plain folks like us attribute this to all that screen time—Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, text messaging, computer game playing, movie streaming—that not only keeps people from reading books but gives them too much practice writing in the kind of casual shorthand that just doesn’t fly in grant proposals (LOL, IMHO).

News flash: Those who write grant proposals must be effective writers no matter how sound their programs are or how highly regarded their organizations happen to be. It’s just common sense. If a proposal is a mess, grantmakers will tend to think the organization may be equally sloppy.

THE BASICS

Good proposal writing follows the principles of good writing in general, but there are some rules that we urge you to observe that would not necessarily apply to essayists, fiction writers, journalists, biographers, or poets. Sure, proposals can—and should—be enjoyable to ​read (and so should books about how to write them). But the reason for writing grant proposals is not to entertain. They are written to convince grantmakers to hand over money to you; that’s their unique and specific objective. In this lesson, we lay out 12 “rules” describing our strong preferences and pet peeves about proposal writing. Although there are exceptions to each of these rules (and we sometimes break them ourselves), we have found that you can’t go wrong by following them most of the time. If you break any of these rules, you should have a very good reason to do it.

Rule 1: Before You Write One Word, Make an Outline

Whether you are writing a letter to your aunt or a story or a grant proposal, your first order of business when confronted with the blank screen or page is to write an outline. (If the friend in the Opening Remarks had done this, she wouldn’t have had to cut, paste, and panic each time she started a new proposal.) This is a technique you probably learned in fifth grade and probably forgot soon after. Your outline, which you will fill in later, should exactly follow the funder’s guidelines, questions, or selection criteria for the proposal. A good outline not only will demonstrate to the grantmaker that you have read and understood what she is looking for (and in what order) but it also will let you get something down on paper quickly.

We should mention that if you are required to submit the proposal online, the outline may be done for you in an online form you must fill out. Although generally you will develop the proposal and submit it by email or at the funder’s website, in some situations you are required to fill in boxes that may even constrain the length of your responses.

We’ve said this before and will say it again: Follow the funder’s outline to a T. If the first question on the application asks how you plan to evaluate the program (even if you haven’t been asked yet to describe the program), then, as strange as that may be, it will be the first item on your outline. As we said in Lesson 3, don’t omit questions or portions of questions on the outline, even if you think ​they’re irrelevant to your program, and don’t change the order of the topics because you think the funder asked them in an illogical sequence.

Each topic in the outline becomes a subhead to make sure you don’t lose your way. This sounds obvious, but it’s important because a poorly organized proposal will make even good writing seem incomprehensible. You may not use all the outline’s subheads in the final proposal; often space is just too limited to include subheads in the shorter proposals. But subheads—the more the merrier—are useful when you’re trying to get started, and they keep you focused as you write. They also ensure that you don’t inadvertently omit important information.

Before you start filling in the outline, organize the material you have available. As we said in Lesson 4, you should have on hand all sorts of information about your organization, programs, and target population, including census data, historical facts, program descriptions and performance statistics, demographics and other statistics on participants, staff résumés, articles, newsletters, and much more. All of this material should be organized in files in your computer—all résumés together, all crime or health statistics and other research together, all budget and funding source data together—before you even think about starting to write. (If you haven’t done this already, do it now.)

Of course, some of the information you have on hand will be left out of some proposals and featured prominently in others. For example, bios for key staff of your senior center will have no relevance in a proposal for a new youth program; job descriptions of your organization’s staff members may be inserted in an appendix (if appendices are permitted), or left out completely if the grantmaker doesn’t want them. Often you will struggle with what to include and what to leave out. The funder’s guidelines and the way each question in the grant application is framed will tell you what to cover in the narrative, what to add to the appendix, and what to save for another proposal. Below is one sample of an outline that we borrowed ​from a funder’s grant application. Remember, this is just an example; again, you will develop the outline to reflect what the grantmaker wants.

Once you have the outline done, writing the proposal will be a lot easier.

Sample Outline

Rule 2: Write as You Speak (or as You Should Speak)

You are not speaking, or writing, as a Shakespearean actor speaks… or as your awesome 14-year-old nephew speaks… or as those you follow on Twitter “speak.” You should not be overly formal, pretentious, or ponderous in a proposal. Nor should you be so casual that the grantmakers are left scratching their heads in confusion. Compare the three statements below:

The first two statements obviously break this rule; the third one is direct, to the point, and actually sounds as though an adult wrote it!

Don’t grantmakers have 14-year-old nephews also? Don’t they know exactly what the proposal writer means by “people enjoy chillaxin’ at the Meridian Mews Center”? They may know what it means to “chillax” and to be a “hottie,” but that kind of lazy writing by adults suggests lazily, casually run programs. Some grantmakers feel it is disrespectful for the proposal writer to assume that they are comfortable with that level of casualness. Many grantmakers feel that adults should not talk the way teenagers do but act as well-spoken role models. Besides, isn’t it more meaningful to the reader to learn that the executive director of the Meridian Mews Center has won recognition from respected professional organizations rather than to hear that she is “hot”? So, dudes, stick to conventional words and phrases. The best strategy for writing about your executive director is to let the facts about her speak for themselves. Even if she is gorgeous, it is not appropriate to mention that tidbit in the proposal.

Rule 3: Double (and Triple) Think Your Choice of Words

Never, accidentally or on purpose, fall back on slang or on imprecise or insensitive terminology. We aren’t going to get into a discussion here about good slang and bad slang or the merits of political correctness—we may be opinionated, but we aren’t lexicographers! We recognize that some slang expressions are used by people of all ages while others usually are restricted to the vocabularies of preteens and teenagers—and yes, we realize that many slang words even ​make it into the dictionary. But we don’t think they belong in a grant proposal. We also believe you must take great care in describing, precisely, the traits and attributes of the people who participate in your program or who live in your community or city. Compare the statements below:

The first three are loaded with slang as well as imprecise and insensitive terminology. The fourth statement uses appropriate terms and sticks to the facts. What’s the big deal about saying cops instead of police? And everyone knows what the ’hood and the slammer are. No big deal. But why not play it safe and use the correct words? The reader’s father may be a policeman who complains about the disrespect he encounters on the street. You have to admit that there are some people who are really adamant about referring to young ones as children and not kids. And many groups prefer or resent being referred to in certain ways. It used to be perfectly acceptable to say “retarded children” or “the retarded.” Now it is much more sensitive to say “children with intellectual disabilities.” It’s up to proposal writers to keep on top of changing trends in language. If you think this is petty, just check with a parent of a child with special needs and you may very well get an earful.

Rule 4: Don’t Exaggerate

No, your organization is probably not running the most cutting-edge, innovative, earth-shattering computer instruction on the ​planet—and grantmakers often just laugh and shake their heads when they see this kind of grandiose claim.

Is there a proposal writer around who isn’t constantly searching for words that convey the extraordinary attributes of the program? (Hint: Terms like “cutting edge” have become clichés.) Let the organization, the neighborhood, the program, the staff—and the facts—speak for themselves. (Who likes to eat in a restaurant just because it advertises fine dining? You choose the place because you’re in the mood for the type of food or the specific menu. After you finish your meal, you’ll decide whether the dining was fine.) So do use a few appropriate facts, statistics, or examples of program outcomes. Compare the following pairs of statements and decide which of each pair is strongest:

In each of the pairs of statements, the second statement doesn’t need to exaggerate to make a point. The proposal writer takes the trouble to explain why the program is extraordinary, a staff member is brilliant, and a neighborhood is considered disadvantaged.

Rule 5: Buy a Grammar Book—and Use It When in Doubt (and Even When You’re Not in Doubt)

Nothing is more disheartening to a grantmaker than poor grammar. Right or wrong, it suggests either that you are poorly educated or don’t care enough about the proposal to proofread and rewrite. What funder wants to give money to an organization that allows a proposal to be sent out with grammatical errors? We aren’t going to give you grammar instructions; you know the rules, or you know where to find them. A couple of hints: If you work in a professional field, say, education, youth services, or social work, use a grammar book or guide published or approved by a journal or professional organization in that field. And use your word processor’s grammar check—but don’t depend on it! It’s only as good as the programmers who wrote it.

Rule 6:… and a Dictionary and Thesaurus While You’re at It

Your computer has a spelling checker and many other tools that can help you. No excuses for misspellings and no reason to discuss this any further. But, again, we realize that spelling software isn’t foolproof (the computer often doesn’t distinguish among two, too, and to, for example), so you should also proofread carefully, ask friends ​and colleagues to read and edit your proposals, and use a dictionary to double-check when you are the least bit unsure.

Rule 7: Stick to the Active Voice

This is a more straightforward way to write, and it is the only way to keep from getting tripped up—or tripping up your reader—in a grant proposal. All sorts of people (not just proposal writers) rely on the passive voice—saying things like “You are loved” rather than the active but often terrifying “I love you.” And how often have we heard politicians say, “Mistakes have been made,” rather than the more earth-shattering “I blew it!” In grant proposals, the active voice keeps you honest and clear. In the following paired statements, decide which is more straightforward, giving the reader the most detailed information:

After reading the first item of each pair, the funder is left wondering exactly who will do what to whom. The second statement of the pair uses the active voice and leaves nothing to the imagination.

What if we don’t know who will recruit students, conduct workshops, hire staff, evaluate the staff, and so on at the time that we are ​writing our grant proposal? Wouldn’t it be misleading to give the funder inaccurate information? Aren’t we better off using the passive voice? No! Funders want to be sure that you understand how these tasks will get done; they don’t necessarily expect to know the names of the individuals who will be doing them. And in any case, you still don’t need to use the passive voice. You can say, “The program director (or executive director, or whoever is responsible) will hire the appropriate workers” or “The program manager will develop a contract with a professional evaluator.”

Rule 8: Keep Your Own Voice Out of It

Keep your value judgments, controversial ideas, political views, and sense of humor out, out, OUT of the grant proposal. Proposal writers often mistakenly think that everyone reading their proposals agrees with them about the state of the world, politics, and educational philosophy, and that their idea of a good joke will make the people reading the proposal fall over laughing. Consider the statements below (we’ll help you along on these):

Rule 9: Limit the (Yawn) Adjectives

When too many modifiers are tacked on to a noun, verb, or phrase, the reader is likely to see them as just the opinion of the proposal writer rather than documented facts. Overusing adjectives can seem to be a shortcut for the proposal writer—saving the time and trouble of explaining what is meant by the adjectives. Excessive use of adjectives smacks of desperation. As Mark Twain said, “When you catch an adjective, kill it.” Look at the following statements:

The first statement is just… words. It doesn’t really say anything that has meaning. The second statement is meaty and informative.

Won’t the grant proposal be dry and drab—okay, boring—without some juicy adjectives perking it up? Adjectives can be effective if you can flesh them out and explain exactly why you have selected them. For example, “This innovative program is among the earliest in the city of Metropolis to pair college students and preschool children for basketball lessons.” Otherwise, adjectives like “innovative” are meaningless—and annoying.

Rule 10: It’s Not Personal

A grant proposal is neither a personal essay nor an autobiography. Save “I,” “we,” and “our” for your memoirs. Whether you are writing ​on behalf of a not-for-profit organization, a school or school district, a college, a consortium of groups, a faith-based organization, or a government agency, it is not a good idea to get personal when talking about the organization and the project that you hope to get funded. Compare the pairs of responses below and decide which is perfectly clear, leaving nothing to the imagination:

In each pair, the example that specifically mentions the Meridian Mews Center, the staff, or the executive director is crisper and less confusing.

Don’t you think you’re being a little rigid with this rule? Yes, it’s rigid, because so many people either overuse the first person or use it inappropriately. It’s much easier to tell you to avoid it altogether than to tell you when to use it and when not to. One of the authors agrees with this rule in principle, but in practice she finds that there are times when the less formal use of the first-person plural is more effective. This choice depends on her familiarity with ​the prospective reader or the feeling she is trying to convey about a proposed program or the organization. The point is that if you break this rule, you should do it consciously and for a reason.

Moreover, if you’re not careful about using the first person, you may confuse the grantmaker. If you say, for example, “We will run workshops for our parents,” the reader may have to stop to figure out if you’re talking about your own parents, the parents of the children in your program, or any parents in the community. Every time the grantmaker has to stop to think about what you mean, you lose a little momentum in what otherwise may be an excellent proposal.

Rule 11: Brevity Isn’t Always the Soul of Wit

Unless you are trying to confuse the grantmaker, abbreviations and acronyms have no place in a grant proposal. Believe it or not, even the most commonly used acronyms are bound to confuse someone—and that someone may be a potential funder. PTA, NFL, NYC, and probably a few others shouldn’t stymie even the most insulated grantmaker, but as a general rule, the term represented by an acronym should be spelled out over and over again—or not used at all—unless you’ve just explained it in the same paragraph (or at least on the same page). Even talking about acronyms gets confusing. Compare the following:

In the first example, the Department of Health is spelled out first—then the acronym is used again quickly. The second statement is filled with enough acronyms to make your head hurt.

​Rule 12: Prove It!

Very little of what you write is common knowledge, even if it seems obvious to you. Grantmakers want to see backup information, proof that what you say is true. Certain statements express universally agreed-on knowledge that you don’t have to prove: The sky is blue (at least once or twice a year), grass is green (if there is any), winter is cold. But the unproved, unexplained statements that are thrown into grant proposals can drive reviewers up the wall. Compare the following pairs of statements:

In both cases, the second statement of the pair takes nothing for granted and offers proof for every proclamation.

IN CLOSING

Following the rules that we’ve highlighted in this chapter will not guarantee that your grant proposal will receive funding, but you can be certain the grantmaker won’t be too confused, too frustrated, too offended, too angry, or too shocked by your writing to fund your project.

​POP QUIZ

True or False?

Short Answer

In this lesson, we described 12 rules that you should follow as you write your grant proposal. Which rules are broken in the statements below? (Hint: Some of these statements have more than one broken rule, and some may have grammatical or spelling errors.) For each, write a sentence that complies with the rules.