Is this editor playing it safe or playing dumb?
A fresh-faced freelancer's cold pitch piqued interest at a legacy magazine—but there's a catch.
I pitched a personal journalism story to a nonprofit legacy magazine over a month ago and received a response today. While it sparked an interest for an online story, the editor asked me if I have a draft prepared. I don’t — but I have gathered plenty information and contacts within the subject.
I’m trying to pivot my career from corporate to editorial writing and afraid of appearing “amateurish.” I don’t want to see this story that I deeply believe in get rejected because I tripped the starting line.
How do I respond without losing their interest in an article that I really do want to write for this outlet? Do I just need to be more upfront about where I am in my process?
—Inexperienced but Competent
Dear I.C.:
I had a somewhat similar experience with this particular editor nearly a decade ago. I pitched them on a narrative feature. They liked it but wouldn’t commit to an assignment contract unless I auditioned by writing the first section. I hesitated, as I had five years of magazine writing and editing experience. But, like your story, mine meant a lot to me, so I agreed to these terms.
I wrote and submitted the first 500 words, and they concluded that my story wasn’t a good “fit” for the magazine. Fair enough. Even though “auditions” are unusual in journalism, they’re not unheard of. Requesting drafts up-front? Much rarer. Still, not inconceivable, especially if there’s an element of creative nonfiction or opinion to the pitch. That’s not the case with your first-person story though.
I read your pitch and thought you did everything right, down to laying out the expert sources that you “will” interview, and the point that your story “will” convey. The operative word here, will, makes it clear that you do not have a prepared draft.
So why are they asking for one?
I believe the editor is playing dumb in order to get a draft from you without committing anything in return. That way, if upon reading it they decide it’s not a “good fit,” they’re not on the hook for a kill fee, or, heaven forbid, the editor wouldn’t have to work a little harder to get your story to their standard.
Thinking back to my personal experience with them, I didn’t appreciate auditioning for the assignment and then being swiftly cast off. But I’ll grant the editor this—they were up front and never pretended this request was standard practice. It upsets me to see this editor acting dishonestly with you, and no less, while representing a charitable magazine.
They appear to be holding you to different standards based on your inexperience, and, presumably, ignorance of industry practices. So, while you’re afraid of coming across as “amateurish,” the most amateur move would be writing and submitting a draft without a contract.
Let me explain why.
Unlike authors submitting to literary outlets, freelancers can expect major editorial input on everything from story size to sources and sidebars. There are any number of variables likely to change once you receive an assignment contract. That’s why we almost never draft our stories until our pitches are accepted. It’s critical we’re all on the same page from the outset.
Speaking as an on-again, off-again magazine editor, I am suspicious of any unsolicited draft from a new writer that lands in my inbox. I wonder: was it published elsewhere? Did a publicist ghostwrite it? Are they trying to salvage a story that another magazine killed?
That’s why I think they’re playing dumb.
Their behaviour is even sketchier considering your story, at best, would run online. As you probably know, web pay rates are much less than print rates. Sucks, but, believe me, no editor takes pleasure in this unfortunate reality.
The upshot is magazines use web stories to trial new writers. If you’re great to work with, they have an exciting new name to add to their roster, and you have a credit. If the story comes back unsalvageable, then it only cost them a $100 kill fee, and you’ve probably learned something about your story (and self) that’s worth much more.
To summarize: the trade-off for the editor that you pitched should be taking risks on your inexperience, not exploiting it. Either they accept your pitch and offer you a contract (with kill fee) or they respectfully pass. They shouldn’t need a draft to decide on a web piece that would barely dent their budget.
If I were you, I.C., I’d confidently and respectfully tell the editor that you don't have a draft. Without parsing your original pitch, remind them of your unique position to write the story, the research you’ve already done on it, and the steps you’ve taken to secure your sources.
Don’t feel compelled to explain your professional experience in spite of your lacking editorial credits unless they question it directly. But do show enthusiasm for the prospect of writing for their respected readers.
If the editor still wants to read a draft, or asks you to “audition” with a section of the story, that’s your choice. At least now you can decide with more professional insight. And if you decline, just know there are better and more respectful venues ahead.
Something for Your Toolbox
“Every Freelancer Needs a ‘Pitch Bank.’ You Can Steal Mine.”
Every week, I’ll link to a handy resource for writers and journalists. This one happens to be mine. It’s a spreadsheet template designed to help you get and stay organized. It’s already laid out and colour-coded for your pitches. All you have to do is download it, input your stories, and, you know, pitch them!