Donor Communications

Fundraising appeals: think before you act

So you’re ready to write a fundraising appeal. Now what?

Before you even begin to write your appeal, there are some things you should think about.

What’s the ONE thing you’ll ask a reader to do?

Too often, we use a fundraising appeal as a catch-all for everything we want to tell people. This is an even more perilous problem if you don’t communicate often.

Suddenly, there are ALL THE THINGS you want to say! And so much you want people to do!

But no matter how we try, we’re not really built for multi-tasking – or at least multi-tasking of this kind. If you want people to act, keep it clear and simple. Ask for one thing: an urgent gift, a monthly commitment, attendance at an event, consideration of a bequest.

Keeping the focus on that one thing gives it the weight you want it to have.

Who is the ONE person who will be writing the fundraising appeal?

No communication from more than one person is really personal. (Unless, maybe, maybe, it’s your grandma and grandpa.) So pick someone. Preferably someone the donor knows – or thinks she knows. A sense of personal connection matters.

You also want someone with importance. Maybe it’s someone telling their own story – who could be more important to that story? Or maybe it’s someone in your organization who has a strong public identity. Match the writer to the readers as much as possible.

What is THE most important thing you want to say?

This goes with the ask you choose, of course. But once you know what you’ll be asking for, hone your message so that you focus on the why of your ask.

If you want someone to send an urgent gift today, don’t spend time telling them about all your organization’s good work. Focus on the problem you’re asking them to fix, NOW.

You don’t need to send your organization’s resume. You want to make the problem real and clear, tell them how they can solve it with a gift, then tell them how to make that gift. You can encourage more gifts simply by keeping it, well, simple.

Is it getting crowded in here?

Giving is a personal act. And you want to act one person (at a time) to act on your request.

Have you ever been in a group where someone asks for a volunteer? That old bit where everyone steps back, leaving one person who has to volunteer? The truth is, so long as someone else might be taking care of a problem, your donor has an out.

It’s not rational to give away your money. So you need to feel, well, needed, if you’re going to give.

Resist the urge to write an out into your ask. Here’s what I mean:

If you give to Wonderful Organization today, we can help find emergency housing for people who are out in the cold now.

The out hiding in there? You’ve just made your organization the actor, not the donor. Give us money and we’ll take care of it. That’s not nearly so persuasive as “someone is out in the cold tonight. But you can change that with a gift.”

See what I mean?

Empowered donors act. You can make them feel capable of doing something great.

Cut out the middle man

You want donors to feel they can trust you. Trust that you can and will do what you promise. So review your language – it is full of hedges? Are you “striving to” do something? Or “working to” to do something? Or are you actually DOING SOMETHING? Those hedges may make you and your colleagues more comfortable. They take off some of the heat. “Well, we’re TRYING!”

But donors are looking for ways to accomplish something good. They’ll be understanding – to a point – if you aren’t immediately successful. Or if circumstances are even worse than you expected. But you need to be honest with them, too.

If your mission says you feed people, then feed people. And ask people to fund that. As Yoda said, “Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

Focus is your friend

Think about these things and your appeal will be stronger. And a stronger appeal will raise more money.

Photo by Remi Turcotte

Why your good story leads to a better world

If you’ve been wondering why I’m making such a fuss about stories, read on.

Here’s the thing. Insiders (that would be you, nonprofit hero) understand all the details. We eat, sleep, and drink our organizations’ missions – the “why” of our work.

But almost none of your donors or might-be donors do.

They have their own lives and their own whys. Next to those, yours are secondary.

But a story can help change that – if only for a moment.

Change someone’s understanding

Humans are amazing.

“When we tell stories to others that have helped us shape our thinking and way of life, we can have the same effect on them too. The brains of the person telling a story and listening to it, can synchronize,” says Uri Hasson from Princeton University.

That’s power.

Stories are how we can help our readers see our ideas as their own.

Keep your story simple to be effective

We like to think of modern humanity – of ourselves – as multitasking masters. (Honestly, what else are you doing as you read this? Listening to music? Glancing at your phone? Sorting a spreadsheet?)

But when sharing a story, simpler is better. Complexity is a roadblock on the trip from your words to their brain. Less complexity helps activate the brain regions that make us relate to a situation and activity in a story.

Plus, if you’re writing for donors, practicality says you’ll need to keep it simple if you want someone to read it. That’s why shorter words, shorter paragraphs, and simplified ideas work better. (And yes, making something less complex can be hard!)

Remember to avoid your insider jargon, too. Use it enough and your reader’s brain will learn to just ignore it.

What does it cost?

Here’s an idea to chew on from Lisa Cron.

Think of real drama as the internal struggle that the plot catapults your protagonist into, forcing her to take action whether she wants to or not. If taking that action doesn’t cost your protagonist dearly on a deep emotional level, then it’s not a problem. Nor is it a story. Even if, on the surface, something big happens.
Lisa Cron

If you want someone to not only scan what they’re reading but take it in, you want that drama. And the drama means internal struggle.

Your plot doesn’t have to be right out of James Bond. But what’s happening in your protagonist’s head should be fraught. Meaningful. Hard. (No, not jumping out of airplanes!)

Every choice is not only an acceptance of one path but a rejection of another. And it’s that rejection – how much it hurts, how hard it is – that pulls a reader into the story.

If there’s nothing difficult, there’s no story.

And if you’re writing for donors, that shouldn’t be hard. If your mission is critical, if your work is in urgent need of funding, then you need to find that point of choosing and make it your reader’s choice, too.

“I could put this letter down now and go on with my life,” your reader thinks. “But now I feel for this person. And I’ll feel bad if I don’t do something.” Give, or not give. That’s the choice for an appeal, right? Why choose “give”? Because it will feel better.

For example, Jane is a young mom with a newborn baby. The baby has health issues and she’s frightened for him. So she hasn’t been going to work, and now the rent is due… and she doesn’t have any money.

She could leave the baby with her neighbor, but the neighbor has 4 kids of her own to watch and Jane isn’t sure her baby will get the attention he needs…

…Or she and the baby could find themselves without a home.

Either choice is hard. Scary. Life-threatening, even.

What should she do? What would you do?

That’s when you can offer an alternative to two bad choices. By giving today, your donor can help – enroll the baby in high-quality childcare, maybe. Or find Jane housing support so she can care for him.

Now your donor – who has become personally invested in Jane’s story and life – can avoid making that hard choice in her own head. Making a gift is now a great answer to an awful problem.

What is it I want to say? What story can I tell?

Before you even start, think about that question. It’s why I love Jeff Brooks’ simple prompt: “What I want to tell you is…”

Think about that question. Think about a story that will take the idea and plant it in some brains. And think about how you share the story – illustrate the cost to your protagonist, and how your donor can help.

We’re all of us a mix of good and bad characteristics – and they can change in any given situation or at any time. But when you share a story that pulls a reader into someone’s struggle, you’re offering them the chance to act on their altruism.

That’s why you want to focus on the “why” of it all. The action – the “what” – is just the external face of the “why”. Just like what your organization does is less important than why.

Lisa Cron offers this idea. Take it with you – I sure will!

The takeaway is this: we don’t come to story to find out what someone did – Bob snapping at a barista; your protagonist making fat jokes – we come to find out why they’re doing it.
Lisa Cron

Go tell some powerful why stories so your readers can choose to be their own heroes.

This is your brain on stories

When I was in high school, it was the highly-anticipated movie event of a lifetime.

None of the theaters nearby were showing it – yet. But my friends and I were determined. We located a theater 40 minutes away.

The next problem: how would we get there?

My parents couldn’t give me the car that night. And it was the same with two other friends.

Then Tom secured his parent’s station wagon. All of us piled in and began our journey.

We found the theater (no Google maps!). We bought our tickets and found our seats. The screen went black. Then words, in blue type, began scrolling:

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

We knew the trouble had been worth it.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.... — Bennilover on Flikr

The power of story in our lives.

No one ever has to teach us how to get lost in a story, for the same reason no one had to teach us how to melt into a hug. It’s biological.
Lisa Cron

Stories are the best teachers. They’re a brain-driven reward system.

From our earliest ancestors, gathered around a fire at night, stories are human. They teach us from another’s experience. They expand our world.

Stories create oxytocin. Character-driven stories consistently cause oxytocin synthesis. Oxytocin is the brain’s “safe to approach others” signal. It’s what floods a new mother’s system when she nurses her baby.

The brains of a person telling a story and those listening to it can synchronize. Stories build trust and enhance empathy. And of course, that’s why you’ll want to use them in your fundraising.

Feelings, not facts

Here’s a simplistic explanation but I think it will help. Think of your brain as part emotional, part analytical. You might assume that the best way to persuade someone to do something is to offer reasonable facts.

This is what happens when your fundraising communications show off your beautiful statistics.

The problem? Facts and stats light up the analytical part of people’s brains. And that’s the part that says, “Don’t give up your money!”

Appeals that come down to: “We need to reach our budget goals for the year” are so uninspiring. Budgets don’t have feelings.

We need to reach into the cooperative, emotional part of people’s brains. The part that empathizes with what someone else is feeling. And the human way to do that is through stories.

Think of your favorite book or movie. One where you became totally engrossed in the story. Have you ever been so involved that your body twitches when the protagonist gets hurt? Or cried when they cried?

I’m currently re-reading the whole Wheel of Time series. I’ll be engrossed in those books for months. The characters will become part of me again. I’ll feel their feelings.

Stories are how we learn to share each other’s burdens. They move us to help because we’re feeling what someone else is feeling. And our brains are right there with us. We’re rewarded – chemically – when we do something good.

Telling stories makes us vulnerable

Telling good stories – the kind that will open other people’s hearts (and brains!) – asks that we share the same feelings we’re communicating. It does require some bravery from the writer. You need to be willing to put yourself in your protagonists’ shoes – especially if they’re full of holes and the ground is frozen.

But isn’t that really what fundraising is about? Fundraising writing is sharing one person’s story – their humanity – with another person. And inviting that other person to become part of the story.

Fundraising is not debate club

I bought a rowing machine last Christmas. It’s still causing arguments.
~John Thompson

Full disclosure: I was not in a debate club. I would have been sliced and diced in moments, as I tried to find common ground so everyone could be nice to each other.

Take a look at the fundraising mail making its way to your mailbox and inbox.

You may notice organizations bringing out their inner lawyer.

In a debate, you want an argument that’s so good, so rock solid, that no one can dispute it. Done. You win.

That’s not how fundraising works

In fundraising, your very best argument will slide right by your donor’s eyes or ears. It may briefly pass through their brain. But it will be the part of their brain that tells them:

Give away money? Are you mad?

Yeah, that’s not the part you want to talk to.

Arguments – or to be nice, let’s say, rational reasoning – don’t persuade hearts to act.

Oddly enough, it’s just science. We know now that our logical, rational side doesn’t respond to requests for money. Instead, we have to go right to the place where we feel.

Did high school ruin things for fundraisers?

Maybe it was all those school papers we had to write. Do you remember? When writing that paper you were probably taught to begin with your thesis, then several arguments supporting your thesis, then a conclusion.

In school, the better your arguments and the clearer, the better your grade.

In formal debates, there are similar rules: assertions and rebuttals. It’s all very controlled, factual, and defined.

But fundraising isn’t logical. It’s emotional. You don’t have to be great in a debate to be good at fundraising writing.

Raising money takes a different kind of smart

You’ve undoubtedly heard about “emotional intelligence”. People with high emotional intelligence are more aware of emotions – both their own and others. That’s a good skill to refine for fundraisers.

I don’t want to give you the impression that fundraising doesn’t take hard work and study. I’ve been at it for more than 30 years now and I’m still learning every day. The skills you’ll need aren’t as straightforward as a debate or a formula. And, frustratingly, any rules that we define have a funny way of changing as we learn more.

Bottom line: the right way to fundraise is the way that raises more money!

But we’ve learned enough to know that we need to approach potential donors’ humanity. Doing that takes something tougher than a good argument.

It takes vulnerability and even bravery.

If you write – or see in your mail – an appeal that relies only on good arguments, it’s probably because someone is afraid. Afraid to really ask for help, instead of implying the need. Afraid to admit that her organization cannot possibly do the work well alone. Afraid to put her heart onto the page – because rejection, even from someone you don’t know, still hurts.

Fundraising isn’t debate club. It’s so much more.

The big question your donors want you to answer: WHY

WHY?

Why should I give you money?

Why should I care about your work?

Why will this matter to someone?

Too often, we focus on HOW

We love to talk about how we do the work. All the cool ways we accomplish great things. A new process. A unique way of tackling a problem.

All of these things matter. Probably to institutional supporters. And definitely to you. You live and breathe them. You see them, day in and day out, at work.

Most of your donors do not. They don’t work with you. And they don’t need to know how you accomplish your mission.

They need to know why you accomplish it. And a bit about why they can trust you to do what you say.

But mostly, what matters is the why

Why help is sorely needed – today.

Why compassionate people – like them – will want to know about someone who needs help.

Why there’s a problem and they’re needed to fix it.

But I’ll bet you want to know more about how

Here are some (made-up) examples for you.

You work for a food bank. And you know that your organization can source food at a deep discount. This means donors’ gifts will go much farther.

That’s as far as I’d go. They’re getting a donor bargain; donors can do more good with every dollar. Cool!

But they don’t need to know about trucks or state-wide food distribution.

They want to know that if they give, someone who is hungry will be fed.

And that’s the why of your work. You feed people.

Or maybe your organization does something very technical.

You probably struggle to explain it all to donors – especially those who aren’t technical people. Maybe you’re doing environmental research. And you try to make the work sound simple. Translating science into something an English major like me could grasp is tough.

But I don’t need to know all the details. There’s a reason I’m not a scientist. I need to know you can be trusted. And you’re working hard. And that my dollars fund your work.

Even if I don’t understand your work. I don’t have to. I just need to know why I’m needed.

Your donors want to help people.

Keep it simple. Keep it emotional. That’s what giving is about.

Another quick example:

In all the years I spent at a theater, I learned a lot. The things you don’t see or think about from the audience.

Like how freaking amazing stage managers are.

As an audience member, you don’t see their work. You shouldn’t see their work. That would wreck the magic. But without them, nothing would work.

So would I spend a whole appeal raving about what a wonder stage managers are? No.

Would I invite donors to a rehearsal, so THEY could see it? Sure thing. And those who were interested enough would be happy to come.

But mostly, theater donors like seeing theater. So they fund it to keep it around. Pretty simple.

Don’t make it harder than it needs to be

When you’re asking donors to give, don’t ask them to work. Your job is to make it as easy and clear as possible that they’re needed. And why they’re needed.

You know your organization’s work from the inside out. Some of your donors have a pretty good idea about how you do that work, too.

But they give for the why. So that’s the question you need to answer for them. Why does it matter?

And if you do it well, they’ll know the answer, and act on it:

Because our community deserves great theater.

Because our climate is endangered.

Because people are hungry.