The letter I didn’t expect to matter
How an unexpected moment shaped the way I think about writing, and why good bids have nothing to do with being academic.
I don’t think anyone who knew me at school would have predicted I’d end up writing for a living.
In truth, I didn’t think it either.
By the time I got to fifth year, I’d had enough. I wasn’t particularly academic, I didn’t enjoy the environment, and if I’m being honest, I was pretty unhappy.
I’d started a two-year Higher in English. Creative writing, analysis, the usual. But I never saw it through.
I left school early.
Not to drift, but to move on.
I went on to complete an HND in Civil Engineering, and then a degree. I graduated in 2004 and got on with building a career in that world.
Writing wasn’t part of the plan.
The letter
Not long after I left school, a letter arrived from my English teacher.
It wasn’t something I expected. And it definitely wasn’t something I was looking for.
She wished me well. Said she “understood my decision”.
But she also said something else.
She told me she was disappointed I’d left. Not because of attendance or results, but because she thought I had real potential as a writer. Particularly on the creative side.
At the time, I didn’t really know what to do with that.
It didn’t change anything. I didn’t suddenly decide to go back. I didn’t pursue writing.
Life moved on.
And then… nothing
That potential didn’t go anywhere.
Not immediately, anyway.
I didn’t become a writer. I didn’t study it. I didn’t build a career around it in any obvious way.
If anything, I went in a completely different direction.
Engineering. Delivery. Projects. Real-world problem solving.
I graduated in 2004 and spent the next few years working on site.
By 2012, I was on a bulk earthworks job on the west coast of Scotland. Moving large volumes of material to create access for wind turbine components. Proper, hands-on, get-it-done type work.
Writing wasn’t anywhere on the radar.
Then someone handed me a job description, a submission engineer role.
And I remember being told, almost in passing, not to throw it straight in the bin.
I nearly did.
Instead, I read it. Thought about it, talked with my dad, applied and got the job!
Looking back, that feels familiar
Years earlier, someone had written to me and said I had potential as a writer.
In 2012, someone else handed me an opportunity to actually use it.
At the time, neither felt particularly significant.
Looking back, they feel like they were pointing in the same direction all along.
Writing for a living.
Just not in the way you’d expect.
That role in 2012 was the starting point.
And from there, things began to take shape.
Fast forward to now, and I write for a living.
Not books. Not journalism.
Bids.
And that’s where it gets interesting.
Because bid writing isn’t what most people think it is.
It’s not academic
It’s not about big words
It’s not about sounding clever.
If anything, those things tend to get in the way.
Good bid writing is about something much simpler.
Understanding what someone is asking for.
Working out what actually matters to them.
And then explaining, clearly and confidently, how you’re going to deliver it.
It’s closer to problem solving than writing
When people hear “writing”, they often think of structure, grammar, vocabulary. All important, but not the point.
The real skill is in the thinking, taking something complex and making it easy to understand.
Taking something ordinary and presenting it in a way that makes the value obvious.
Sometimes, if we’re being honest, it’s about taking something fairly unremarkable and making sure it still stands up under scrutiny.
Not by dressing it up - but by explaining it properly.
And clarity matters more than anything
There’s a line I use a lot when I speak to clients:
“Write your bid like it’s being read at 5pm on a Friday.”
Because it probably is!
At that point, no one is looking for clever. They’re looking for clear, they want to understand:
What you’re proposing
How it’s going to work
Why they should trust you to deliver it
If they have to work hard to figure that out, you’ve already made it more difficult than it needs to be.
The people best suited to this don’t always look like “writers”
And this is probably the point that ties it all together.
Some of the best people at this don’t come from traditional writing backgrounds.
They come from:
delivery roles
operational roles
technical roles
People who understand how things actually work.
People who can see where things go wrong.
People who know what matters in practice, not just on paper.
Give them the ability to communicate that clearly, and you’ve got something powerful.
It just took me a while to realise it
That letter didn’t change my path overnight, it didn’t suddenly turn me into a writer.
But looking back, it pointed to something that only really made sense years later.
Not in a classroom, not in an exam, but in a completely different environment, doing something I hadn’t planned for.
I wish I could go back and thank both people for that…
Sometimes the best ideas sit quietly in the background, and only show up when you’re ready for them.
#withyouforthejourney #bidwriting