The Art of Donor Follow Up: It's All in the Timing

When I started a nonprofit organization years ago, I went to a leadership dinner for social entrepreneurs. I met Doug there, and we hit it off instantly. He asked thoughtful questions about my work while genuinely wanting to know what inspired me to start this enterprise. I, in turn, felt a real resonance when I learned that the mission of my work had direct relevance to his family.

Doug was clearly a prominent donor who possessed a rare mix of curiosity, care, and public-spiritedness.

When I got back from dinner, I carefully drafted a follow-up email. I sat on it for several days, tweaking words and refining thoughts until I finally hit send.

Then, the waiting began. I checked my inbox continually for days, and… nothing. Each day I hoped to hear back from Doug, but nothing landed.

Two weeks later, I wrote another short note; it was gracious, polite, even bordering on apologetic. I sent it and hoped for the best. But nothing came.

I did one final outreach, and after sending that note, I closed my laptop and made peace with letting go. I felt the small pang of disappointment but knew I had done my best, and anything further would be nagging.

And then, a few weeks later and totally unexpectedly, he replied: “I’m so sorry for the delay. I was traveling. Let’s schedule time to meet.”

I was thrilled. We made plans for me to meet him in New York City. The meeting grew into a friendship, and the friendship evolved into a partnership that blended the trust of peers with the wisdom and guidance of mentorship. And yes, Doug later became a significant donor and served on the board of directors. He remains a lifelong friend and go-to advisor to this day.

What I am focused on here, though, isn’t the meeting. It was the process of getting Doug’s attention and securing time with someone he barely knew, in the midst of his demanding life of kids, work, and serving on for-profit and non-profit boards.

The art of follow-up, at every stage of the donor cycle, involves a heavy dose of intuition, care, and patience. It’s a thoughtful balance of persistence and ease, shaping each message so it meets the donor where they are and makes it easy for them to reply.

So how do you achieve that balance?

It Takes Two to Tango

If fundraising is a dance, timing is its tempo. We can’t control who says yes, but we can control the rhythm.

The challenge is that every relationship has its own beat. Some donors like fast exchanges: short notes, quick replies, calendar invites to anchor their next step. Others need space. They want to think, reflect, maybe talk to a friend. A nudge too soon feels like pressure; a nudge too late feels like disinterest.

What’s more, our work requires following up at multiple moments: after a first meeting, after a gift, after a thank-you, after a lull. Knowing how to read that rhythm can mean the difference between a conversation and a cold trail.

Over time, I’ve noticed that most donor communications fall into three time signatures:

1. The Sprinters: They reply at 6 a.m., before their second coffee. You can follow up within 48 hours, sometimes less. They expect responsiveness and reward momentum.

   
   

2. The Pacers: They take time to digest. They appreciate reminders, but on a schedule that feels intentional. Two weeks between notes works best; it signals consistency without crowding.

   
   

3. The Drifters: They live in perpetual motion, and like it or not, you generally don’t rise to the top of their inboxes (if they even check them). Following up here requires patience, humor, and creativity.

Understanding if you’re dancing a waltz or a rave changes everything. And just as importantly, people can hear different music depending on what’s happening in their lives. A donor with free time in June may be unreachable in October.

Is There a Magic Number?

There’s no universal “right” number of follow-ups. What matters is how much thought you put into each one.

Frequency depends on what deepens the relationship, what creates the feeling that you’re investing in a meaningful exchange. If the last note was an ask, the next one should be an offering: an article they’d appreciate, an update on a program they care about, or simply a line that says, “I was thinking about your comment during our conversation last month.”

In other words, don’t count follow-ups. Curate them.

A few of my favorite approaches:

Returning to what mattered. At natural points in the year, I’ll reference something a donor once shared because it genuinely stayed with me. “I met someone who reminded me of the story you told…”

Linking them to what’s unfolding. As programs evolve, I might share a brief update that connects to their interests: “We’re about to launch an initiative that relates to your field, and I think you’ll be really excited about it.”

Reopening the door with ease. If time slips by (which it often does), I acknowledge it simply: "It’s been a while since we connected, and I’d love to catch up when things slow down for you.” If someone doesn’t respond after a few attempts, read the room. It doesn’t always mean no. It might mean not yet.

But use your emotional intelligence. In some cases, a retreat shows respect. My colleague calls this "bless and release." "I know your schedule must be full right now, so I’ll pause here. If it makes sense to revisit later, I’d welcome that."

The Takeaway

Relationships move at the speed of trust. The best fundraisers, and the best leaders, are tuned in to their donors’ needs. They build cadence in ways that make sense, with follow-up that is not transactional, but conversational.

When in doubt, I ask myself one question: Would I be happy to receive this message? If the answer is yes, it’s probably the right time to send it.

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Not My First Rotary

While writing this piece, I accidentally told someone their update was “music to my eyes.” Fitting, really, because donor communication is its own kind of score. Sometimes we hit the right notes, sometimes we improvise…but when the rhythm is right, even the mistakes land gracefully.

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