The story is the first thing everyone reads when they open the link. The coworker who was forwarded it, the cousin, the neighbor. It deserves more than a paragraph typed at 2 a.m., but it doesn't need to be a masterpiece either. Here's a shape that turns the medical facts into a person.
Running a Campaign
The most common trap
Most first drafts read like a medical chart. Diagnosis date, stage, treatment plan, the hospital's name, the oncologist's credentials, the surgery schedule. All true, all relevant. And none of it tells a reader why your person is worth showing up for.
A medical chart describes a patient. Your story should describe a human being. The diagnosis is what happened to them. It isn't who they are. A reader who only sees the diagnosis is left with information but no relationship. They'll scroll, feel sad for a moment, and leave. A reader who feels they've met your Survivor, even briefly, even through one paragraph, will stay, comment, and share.
Running a Campaign
A three-part shape that works
You don't need to be a writer. You need three short paragraphs, in any order. Most stories work with this shape:
- Who they are when they're not sick. What they're like at a dinner party, what they laugh at, what they would have been doing this weekend if cancer hadn't shown up.
- What happened. The diagnosis, in plain language, kept short. One paragraph is enough.
- What you're asking for. And the part that matters: that words count as much as dollars.
You'll be tempted to lead with the diagnosis, because it's the loudest thing in your head. Resist. Lead with the human. The diagnosis lands harder when the reader already knows who it landed on.
Running a Campaign
What to leave out (or move)
A common mistake is putting in too much. The story is a hook, not a complete history. Save the rest for updates as things unfold. Some things to keep out of the main story:
- Hospital marketing speak ("a leading center of excellence")
- Long medical acronyms. Translate them or remove them.
- Specific dollar amounts in the story itself (those go in the goal, if you have one)
- Promises about outcomes. Keep it to what is happening, not guarantees.
- A play-by-play of every appointment and scan since diagnosis
- Anything your Survivor wouldn't want said
If you find yourself writing a fourth paragraph, ask whether it belongs in an update instead. Updates are where the rest unfolds.
Running a Campaign
Photos do half the work
A good photo does more than a paragraph ever can. Pick ones where your Survivor is doing something: laughing, holding a grandchild, working in the garden, mid-sentence telling a story, lit by a window in a way that feels like them.
Skip posed studio portraits, and keep hospital photos out of the main slot. The main photo is for who they are, not what they're going through. Save the hospital photos for updates, where they can show progress alongside the rest of life.
Running a Campaign
Find a voice and stay in it
Decide early whether you're writing as the Angel telling the Survivor's story, or in the Survivor's own voice. Either is fine, but mixing them creates a wobble readers can feel without naming.
Writing as the Angel ("My mom Pam...") is the most common and almost always works. Writing in the Survivor's voice ("Hi, I'm Pam...") can be more intimate but means the Survivor has to be in on the draft. If you're not sure, write as the Angel. You can always change it later.
Running a Campaign
A short example
Here's a made-up example. Notice that the diagnosis is one sentence of the whole thing.
“My mom Pam is the person who taught me that you can be tough and tender in the same breath. She has run the same diner in Tulsa for thirty-one years. She knows the regulars' grandkids by name. She makes a brown butter pecan pie that has caused at least three marriage proposals. Three weeks ago she was diagnosed with stage III colon cancer. Treatment starts Monday. She is going to be off her feet for a while, and Pam off her feet is not a Pam any of us are used to. We made this page so the people who have eaten her pancakes for three decades can send her a little of what she has given them. A note, a photo, a few dollars if you can. All of it matters.”
Look at what's doing the work. The diner. The pecan pie. The regulars' grandkids. None of it is medical. All of it is Pam. By the time we get to "stage III colon cancer," we already care.
Running a Campaign
You can keep editing it
The story isn't a one-time write. You'll probably revise it a few times in the first month as you see what lands. That's normal. You can change it any time, and people who already joined won't be confused.
A rhythm that helps: write a first draft, sleep on it, read it aloud in the morning, tweak. Show it to one person you trust before publishing. Then publish, and come back in a week to see what now feels off.