Our Annual Appeal Letter Hasn’t Been Updated Since 2019. We Just Change the Year. Help.
- Patrick Kirby
- Apr 21
- 6 min read

I need to tell you something, and I need you to not get defensive.
Ready?
Your donors know.
They know it’s the same letter.
They know you swapped “2024” for “2025” and changed the signature date and called it a day.
They know because they got the same letter last year. And the year before that. And honestly? Some of them probably got the 2019 original and have been watching you Find-and-Replace your way through half a decade.
And look, I’m not here to shame you.
I’ve been you.
I’ve done the “just change the year” thing myself.
Listen, if we’re all being honest here…we all have.
Because when you’re buried under 10,000 hats, updating the annual appeal letter feels like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic, but without the reward of possibly making out with Kate Winslet afterwards.
You’ve got bigger fires.
But here’s the problem: your annual appeal isn’t a deck chair. It’s the engine…you know…before the iceberg, and water, and fancy musicians, and sad old people snuggling in bed as the water slowly rises in their room.
For a LOT of organizations, that letter is the single biggest revenue-generating communication you send all year. And if it reads like a form letter that you pipped-off and duplicated from the local historical society in 2007 with a fresh coat of paint?
Your donors feel it.
They just stop responding instead of telling you about it.
This Isn’t About Design. It’s About Impact.
Now, before you panic, I am NOT about to tell you that you need a full rebrand, a team of 37 professional copywriters, and a $6,800 print budget. Breathe.
This isn’t about the logo and it’s not about the paper stock.
It’s not about whether you use a mail merge or hand-address each envelope with a calligraphy pen. (Although, I had a board member once who went to school and her minor was calligraphy. First off, I didn’t know that was a thing – though then I heard what school she went to and I thought to myself…that tracks. Secondly, I’ve never opened up letters as quickly as I did than when it was from her…even though several of them were telling me that I was not funny, and my humor was not appreciated at the executive level. It sure read nicer when it was in fancy pants cursive.)
This is about what you say and who you say it to.
Because here’s the dirty little secret of annual appeals: most of them are written to “Dear Friend” about “all the great things we did this year” and they ask for “your generous support.”
And that’s fine. It’s not bad. It’s just…meh.
And donors don’t want “meh.”
It’s the fundraising equivalent of a participation trophy. It exists. It showed up. But it’s probably ending up in the same place as all the “missing stuffies” my daughter claims were stolen by the dog, but really is now taking up space at the local city dump.
What actually moves people to give - and give again, and give more - is feeling like they matter to the story.
Not your organization’s story. Their story. The one where they’re the hero who made something possible.
So What Do You Actually Do About It?
Here are three baby steps you can take this week - yes, this week! - to start shifting your annual appeal from “copy-paste and pray” to “holy crap, people are actually responding to this!"
1. Write Three Letters, Not One
This is the single biggest unlock I teach, and it scares people every time I say it.
But stay with me.
You don’t have one audience. You have at least three. And they need to hear different things.
Your donors — the people who have already given — need to hear what their money DID. Not what you need. What. They. Made. Possible.
“Because of your gift last year, 47 kids had a safe place to go after school.”
That’s their story. They’re the hero. You’re telling them they were.
Your cheerleaders — the people who share your posts, attend your events, show up to volunteer, but haven’t given financially yet - need to hear why their next step matters. They already love you. They just haven’t been invited to invest yet.
“You’ve been one of our biggest champions, and we’d love for you to take the next step with us.”
Your door openers — the board members, community connectors, and ambassadors who can introduce you to new people - need a letter they can hand to someone and say “THIS is why I’m involved.” Make it easy for them to be proud of your work.
Three letters.
Same appeal.
Different message.
Different entry point.
Wildly different results.
And before you say “Patrick, I do NOT have time to write three letters” - you’re not writing three novels. You’re changing the first two paragraphs.
The core of the letter can stay the same. But the opening - the part that says “I see you, and here’s why YOU specifically matter” - that’s where the magic is.
2. Lead with One Story, Not a Stat Sheet
I love data. I promise I’m as dorky as you are about it.
But let me tell you what happens when your annual appeal opens with “This year we served 4,237 clients across 14 programs and increased capacity by 22%.”
Your donor’s eyes glaze over faster than watching a professional Minnesota sports team blow a 3-1 lead in a playoff series.
Numbers don’t make people feel things. Stories do.
One person. One moment. One change.
“When Maria walked through our doors last March, she hadn’t had a warm meal in three days. Today, she’s enrolled in our job training program and just signed a lease on her first apartment.”
THAT is what makes someone reach for their checkbook. Not because you served 4,237 people. Because you served Maria. And the donor can see themselves in that story. They can feel what their gift made possible.
You can absolutely include your stats. In fact, you NEED to include them.
But put them further down. Let them reinforce the story. Lead with the human, not the spreadsheet.
(And for the love of all things holy, please ask for permission before using someone’s real story. Change names if needed. You know the drill. Be ethical and compelling. They’re not mutually exclusive.)
3. Make the Ask About THEM, Not About You
Here’s where most annual appeals completely fall apart. The whole letter is “we, we, we, we, we.”
We did this. We accomplished that. We need your help. We hope you’ll consider. We, we, we.
You know what that sounds like to a donor? Like you’re talking about someone else. And not in a good FOMO kinda way.
Flip it.
“Because of you, Maria has a safe place to call home.”
“Your gift last year made it possible for 47 kids to have somewhere to go after school.”
“You are the reason this work continues.”
Count the number of times you say “you” and “your” versus “we” and “our” in your current appeal letter. I’m willing to bet it’s lopsided in the wrong direction. Flip that ratio and watch what happens.
This isn’t manipulation. This is honoring the truth: your donors ARE the reason the work continues. Every letter should reflect that.
This Is a MAYDAY for a Reason
Every year that goes by with the same copy-pasted letter, you’re leaving money on the table and - more importantly, what I’m convinced of more and more - you’re leaving relationships on the table.
Your donors WANT to feel connected to your work. They WANT to know they matter. They WANT to be the hero of the story.
Your annual appeal is your best chance to tell them that.
And if it reads like a generic “Dear Friend” form letter that could’ve come from any organization in America? You’re missing that chance.
Every. Single. Year.
The good news? You don’t have to overhaul everything at once.
Start with one story.
Rewrite one opening paragraph.
Count your “you” vs. “we” ratio.
Baby steps.
That’s all it takes to break the copy-paste cycle.
Ok, your turn!
I want to hear from you. Seriously. Hit reply, send me a DM, hire a skywriter - I don’t care. Tell me:
When was the last time you ACTUALLY rewrote your annual appeal from scratch? And what’s the one thing stopping you from doing it this year?
Maybe you overhauled yours recently and saw a bump. Tell me what you changed - I’ll share it (with permission) so other folks can steal your playbook.
Maybe you’re staring at a letter that still has your predecessor’s signature and you don’t even know where to start. Tell me that too. Never an ounce of judgement here, you know that. I got you.
Send me your answer: patrick@dogoodbetterconsulting.com or just reply with INFO if you want to talk about how to turn your annual appeal into something donors actually want to read.
Together, we’ve freaking got this!
-Patrick
P.S. This is one of a series of MAYDAY Distress Signals — real problems I hear from nonprofit pros every single week. If you’re tired of figuring it out alone, Do Good YOUniversity re-launches May 1st with on-demand training, community, and tools built for fundraisers like you. MORE SOON!