A Grant Writer's Guide to Storytelling and Sanity
wHAT THE f(uNDING)?! a bRIEF iNTRODUCTION
Whenever I find myself at networking events, there’s that inevitable moment when someone turns to me and asks: “So, what do you do?” I pause for a second and carefully consider whether I give them a bite-sized response or fully commit to explaining what it’s like to be a grant writer.
Option One: “I’m a grant writer.” Polite nod, quick subject change.
Option Two: “I write proposals to secure funding for a fully integrated health system based in the Upper Midwest to advance access to behavioral, telehealth, and maternal access for rural communities.” Mild interest… fading fast.
Option Three: “I spend my days writing long, data-packed proposals for federal, state, and foundation grants. Some are 80-page monsters filled with data tables, while others are shorter and let me flex my creative storytelling muscles. It’s part creative writing, part technical documentation, and part convincing the government that they should fund our programs. It’s equal parts spreadsheets and existential crises.”
At this point, they either want to hire me or back away with their drink.
Recently, thanks to a Grant Writing club I joined, I’ve been rethinking how I talk about my work. We’ve had countless conversations about the art of storytelling in grant writing, specifically how to balance narrative and data without turning the grant proposal into a melodramatic novel. Too much story, and you lose credibility. Too much data, and you risk boring reviewers to sleep. The sweet spot is somewhere in the middle.
This blog is for anyone who’s ever asked: Where does storytelling fit in a grant proposal? How do you balance heart and data without sounding like a Nicholas Sparks novel? And seriously, how do you keep it under 80 pages?!
Whether you’re a fellow grant writer, a nonprofit pro, or someone who really loves niche metaphors, we’re diving into how storytelling and data can work together to make your grant proposals both unforgettable and fundable.
Data and Storytelling: The Ultimate Grant-Writing Power Couple
When you think of grant writing, “storytelling” might not be the very first word that comes to mind. You’re probably picturing something like data tables, an endless stream of bullet points, and seductive phrases like “outcome-based benchmarks” and “uniform administrative requirements,” exciting, right?
When I first started writing grant proposals, I thought storytelling meant being as poetic as possible, crafting vivid descriptions of unmet healthcare needs, and writing sentences that would leave reviewers stifling heavy sobs and wiping hot tears from their eyes. I spent hours agonizing over the most powerful phrasing, determined to make the reviewer feel something deep in their soul, but I was describing healthcare needs that read like the opening crawl of a Star Wars movie.
“…In this rural community, hope is a flickering light, barely surviving amidst a storm of healthcare inequities. Storms gather strength with every untreated illness, every stark, unfulfilled promise, and every closed clinic door. In this place, survival is not a given – It is a battle against daily forces too large to—”
You live , you write, and you cringe.
Federal grant reviewers don’t want lyrical epics; they want solutions, backed by data. Every section needs to answer the same core questions: What’s the problem? How will you solve it? Why should we trust you to do it? And they want those answers without scrolling through a 300-word metaphor about rural healthcare being a flickering light in a storm of unmet needs.
That’s not to say storytelling disappears entirely. It just gets sharper, intentional, and more like Hemingway than Faulkner. It’s like a Show-and-Tell, but the stakes high (like a-lot-of-dollars higher).
It’s taken me years to embrace the balance of narrative and numbers, but I’ve only been in this industry for three years, so I still have much to learn. However, I know that stories matter as they give meaning to the data and remind reviewers that behind every statistic is a real person. But in the world of grant writing, data is the anchor that holds the story steady. Without it, a proposal becomes just another tale without enough substance to stick.
Death by data table: finding the balance
When done right, storytelling and data work together beautifully, like Shakespearean tragedy meets a well-organized spreadsheet, and I love a tragically well-organized spreadsheet. Your needs section gives the story weight; your response section delivers a solution with urgency; and your budget? Well, your budget is the unsung hero that shows exactly how your plan will come to life.
My blog post isn’t an advocation to abandoning storytelling in grant writing—it’s about making every sentence work harder. Every proposal needs editing, and then more editing, and then add some more editing, until the fluff is gone and the heart remains. You cut the long anecdotes, turn detailed descriptions into tables, and ask yourself with every paragraph, Is this driving the story forward or am I just showing off my vocabulary?
On another note, if writing a federal grant proposal is like crafting CliffNotes for your favorite novel, writing for private or foundation grants is like getting to write the novel itself. The applications are shorter, yet, but with far more freedom to exercise that emotional and creative muscle.
While federal funders want clear facts and concise answers, foundation reviewers are a little more open to hearing your voice, anecdotes, and descriptive language. That’s not to say you should wax hardcore poetic, but you can lean into the human-centered stories without worrying that a USDA reviewer is going to dock you for excessive sentimentality.
With private grants, storytelling does a lot of the heavy lifting. Why? I’m glad you asked. Unlike federal reviewers who are often given very strict reviewing criteria, foundation reviewers are frequently less rigid. They want to feel connected to your story and inspired by your work, not just reassured by your capacity to meet deliverables.
May the force (of storytelling) be with you
Grant writing is part art, part science, and like any good story, it’s all about knowing your audience. Federal funders crave data-driven precision, while private and foundation funders want to feel the heart behind your work. The magic happens at the intersection—where storytelling brings the data to life, and data keeps the story grounded in reality.
The best proposals aren’t packed with marshmallow fluff or endless spreadsheets. They’re sharp, intentional, and every sentence, statistic, and story serves a purpose. Data builds trust. Storytelling builds connection. Used together, they don’t just secure funding; they remind reviewers that this work is about real people, real challenges, and real solutions.
So whether you’re tackling a federal grant or just trying to survive another round of edits, remember: Start small, embrace the messy draft, and trust the process. And when in doubt, lean on both the numbers and the narrative—they’ll guide you like a well-lit path through the funding galaxy.
May the force of storytelling (and sanity) be with you. Always.
All opinions and views expressed are my own
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All opinions and views expressed are my own *