I have  a picture of my friend Brian fishing on the lakes of New Hampshire in New England and each time I have to  write a business proposal I take it out of my photo album, pinch out the creases and place it on my desk. 

It serves as inspiration.

I remember the summer of my contentment when  the photograph was taken, and my wonder at how Brian could rake in  fish after fish while my line remained inert and lifeless. "It's all in the attitude," he laughed rolling  in another whopper of a salmon. 

That was the Kodak moment I captured. And that is the moment I have framed on my desk. I defer to that picture because I think that attitude  is also the secret of  writing a winning business proposal. Like fishing, I suppose it requires a bit of hope and a whole lot of unyielding  faith  in the enterprise; that the proposal you spend hours hammering out will be as enticing for the client as any good bait.

That's not always the case and I learnt this lesson the hard way. In the early days, I used to chase every piece of business that came my way. I was selective-how do I say this tactfully- like a dog in heat. For days after I sent out a proposal I would stew in anticipation. Hopeful, I would wait for the call back sometimes even jumping the broom and calling the client  myself but that was until  two earthquakes hit my psyche all within the same month. 

At the time a prospective client called requesting a proposal for a PR strategy. It was a large company with a successful product and a stale image. I was overjoyed at the prospect of winning this potentially lucrative contract.  Naively -okay I confess stupidly,- I  responded by writing a detailed account of my ideas.  15 hours and 4 boxes of mixed Chinese chicken later, I had conceptualized  what I  instinctively knew was an exciting and  targeted PR proposal.  The client called the following week, and I was told that the  proposal they had wanted asap  was being placed on hold. "The budget is tight now, but we'll give you a call when we're ready."  Three weeks later the very same company started a campaign that bore a horrific twin-like resemblance to my own and I knew I had been taken for the worst kind of ride. The incident shattered  the last bastion of my innocence.

It is never easy to take the long view of things, especially  in a culture of 10-second sound bites and  instant messaging service. But in  a process as slow and complex as growing my  own business, I know that the ability to  learn from my mistakes would always have to be my anchor.

Writing winning proposals will forever be an important part of acquiring new  business and retaining old clients. I understand its importance: a good proposal sets apart from my competition, it  increases my hit rate on getting the businesses I want, it allows the name of my business to get out there, and it position me as a consultant of choice. 

But I no longer believe that the proposals I write should be  a detailed blueprint that contains all my ideas, but something more like an artist's sketch, a  document that is sufficient to sell the idea -the concept of what I am  proposing. 

Before I start writing,  I try to  gather information about the clients needs, expectations and  problems. Then I write briefly the project's objective statement, developing  in turn the project's concept, time line, evaluation plan, and  budget. Most importantly in all my proposals I let my client know  that I understand what they are trying to achieve. Armed with the proposal I develop the attitude-or maybe it is in  writing the proposal  that the attitude comes-, and this is my favourite 'go get 'em' line; "we have the solution to your problems, our proposal demonstrates this, now can we do business?" 

Thankfully, now, the answer is invariably yes!