8 Grant Writing Mistakes I've Made (So You Don't Have To)

I've been on both sides of the grant table. I've written applications for my own ventures, and I've sat on the other side reviewing them as part of running an accelerator grant program. Both seats taught me things the hard way.

Nobody tells you this part: most grant writing advice comes from people who've only ever reviewed applications, not filled one out at midnight wondering if they read the instructions right. I've made almost every mistake on this list. Some cost me the funding. One, weirdly, is the reason I got it.

Here's what I learned, mistake by mistake.

I didn't read the guidelines closely enough

This one happened recently, and it wasn't even a grant. It was a government contract. Buried in the requirements was a line saying one specific page needed a physical, hand signature. Not a typed name. Not an e-signature. An actual pen-to-paper signature, scanned in.

A buddy of mine applying for the same contract was the only person who caught it. He drove to get the page physically signed and included it. Everyone else skipped it, probably assuming it didn't matter that much.

He won the contract. When he asked why, they told him straight out: nobody else had ever bothered to get the signature. Because he did, and because his proposal clearly showed he'd read every line of the requirements, they awarded it to him.

That's the whole lesson. The tiny detail you're tempted to skim past is usually the detail they're using to sort out who actually read the document.

I recycled an old proposal instead of writing a new one

Some parts of a grant application are fair game to reuse. Your mission statement, your goals, your financials. Those don't change week to week. They're living documents, but they are what they are.

Where I went wrong was treating the whole application like a template. If a grant is asking something specific, you have to actually answer what they're asking, not paste in your standard boilerplate and hope it's close enough.

Now I do one more thing before I write: I look at who else has received this grant in the past. That tells me what the funder actually values, not just what their website says. Then I tailor the language to the person who's going to be reading it, not to some generic version of "a business."

I asked for the wrong amount of money

This one can go either way, and I've landed on both sides of it.

You can't get what you don't ask for. If there's room to ask for a meaningful amount, ask for it. I've done that and gotten it.

But if a grant is capped at ten thousand dollars and you ask for fifty thousand, you're not being ambitious. You're getting passed over. Even funders with deep pockets have a typical range for a reason, and asking wildly outside it signals you didn't do your homework on what they actually fund.

Before you write a number down, find out what they've historically given similar organizations. That number tells you more than the total grant pool ever will.

I told a story when they wanted a straight answer

Grant applications almost always tell you the word count or character limit for each answer. That's not a suggestion. That's the reviewer telling you exactly how much space they're willing to give you.

I've gone over. I've turned a question that needed three sentences into a paragraph, because it felt like the story deserved more room. It doesn't. If you're not sure how long an answer should really be, call the grant manager and ask. Most of them will tell you.

And don't let AI write the answer for you wholesale. Answer the actual question, in your own words, then have someone check it for grammar. A well-written short answer beats a padded long one every time.

I waited too long to start writing

I thought a particular grant application was two pages. I opened the actual form the week it was due and found out it was closer to forty pages of questions.

It was due at 11:59 PM. I finished it at 11:50. I pulled an all-nighter energy straight out of my college days to get there.

We didn't get that grant. I genuinely don't know if it's because I rushed it or because we just weren't the right fit for their criteria that cycle. But I don't want to find out the hard way twice. Read the actual application length before you assume you know it.

I never built a relationship with the funder before applying

This matters most with local foundations and smaller funders, the ones where a real person is reading your name and deciding what to do with it.

Look at who sits on their board. See if you can grab coffee with someone connected to the fund. Ask what they're actually looking for and what's motivating the grant in the first place.

When our accelerator grant program first launched, we asked our own board directly what they wanted to see in applications. Some of that never made it onto a website or an application form. It only came out because someone asked. If you can find that information before you apply, you can speak to it directly instead of guessing.

I let jargon sneak into the application

If someone on the street wouldn't understand a sentence in your application, rewrite it. The average reader in America reads at about a fifth grade level. Ideally the person reviewing your grant reads well above that, but don't bet on it, and don't make them work to decode your industry language.

If a fifth grader wouldn't follow it, break it into simpler words or a shorter sentence. This isn't about dumbing down your project. It's about making sure the person deciding your funding doesn't have to reread a paragraph three times to understand what you actually do.

I submitted without a second set of eyes

Every grant I write now goes into a shared Google Doc before it's submitted. Not just for me to look at. My admin reads it. My executive assistant reads it. My partner usually reads it too.

Sometimes it catches a simple grammar mistake. Sometimes it catches a word count problem I missed. It doesn't have to be a formal editor. A friend who's a strong writer, a business partner, an assistant, your business bestie, whoever you trust to actually read closely, is enough. But someone besides you needs to read it before you hit submit.

Frequently Asked Questions

What's the single biggest grant writing mistake?

Not following the instructions exactly as written. Funders use small, specific requirements to sort serious applicants from the rest, and it's the easiest mistake to avoid if you slow down and actually read.

How early should you start writing a grant application?

As soon as you know the deadline, open the actual application and read every question before you assume how long it will take. Don't estimate the length. Confirm it.

Should you hire a grant writer or do it yourself?

Either can work. What matters more is whether someone with strong writing skills reviews the final draft before submission, whether that's a hired writer, a business partner, or a trusted colleague.

Do small mistakes really get an application rejected?

Sometimes, yes. A missing signature, a blown word count, or jargon a reviewer doesn't understand can be the difference between two similarly strong applications. The details matter more than most people think.

Every mistake on this list cost me something: time, a missed deadline, or a grant I didn't get. But none of them were fatal, and most of them were fixable the very next time I applied. Grant writing rewards people who read closely, ask questions, and let someone else check their work before they hit submit. Get those three things right and you're already ahead of most of the applications sitting in that reviewer's inbox.

If you're working on a grant application right now and want a second set of eyes, [Reach Out to Jocelyn].