When a Quality Pitch Isn't Enough
A freelancer wonders if they're qualified to write a story they want to write. What's holding them back: imposter syndrome or healthy self-awareness?
I’ve been working to come up with some new pitches, and I keep getting stuck on one thorny point. When I start thinking about how to craft a pitch, I quickly get hung up on the question: “Why am I the best person to write this?” Sometimes, I feel like the answer is simply, “Because I’m the one who pitched it,” but I suspect that’s usually the wrong answer!
How much knowledge/expertise ought we have about a topic to credibly pitch a story about it? And how much of this is just about kicking imposter syndrome to curb and pitching anyway, as long as we’ve done our homework on the story?—Conscientious Self-critic
Dear C.S.:
When I teach pitching workshops, there are a few questions I urge freelancers to closely consider. “Why should people care?” and “Why now?” are self-explanatory and unsurprising. Most people answer these questions naturally in the process of any query. However, “Why am I the best person to write this?” is a question that even I need to remind myself to try to answer.
I write try because you’re absolutely right that sometimes the answer is, “Because I’m the one who pitched it!” That’s especially true if you’re a generalist like myself. But there are also times when a story hinges on the storyteller, even when it’s not a first-person narrative.
I’ll start by briefly addressing the former, and offer a few examples of the latter. I’ll get to the whole imposter syndrome thing last.
When your story is based on a fresh and original premise, then usually that’s all it needs to hook an editor. “Why me?” is not something you have to explain; it’s self-evident in the quality of your pitch—the clarity, attention to audience, knowledge, etc.
Of course, if you have extra credentials to back that up (eg: a body of work related to the topic; ancestral connections to a community of interest; a BSc. on a popular science pitch), then, by all means, let it be known. But I’ve successfully pitched and reported stories on everything from nanotechnology to southern barbecue without so much as a BSc. or smoker. In these instances, having access to sources (often physical) was the only concern to these editors.
However, if you want to do a deep dive into an issue, or write about something that’s been covered countless times, prepare to make a stronger case for your credentials. This is especially true when the topic focuses on a marginalized or minority community.
For example, a decade ago I wrote an essay about Muslim women’s personal decision to wear or not wear hijabs. This has been written about for almost 15 centuries! The year I wrote it, there was probably a story about it published every week in Canadian newspapers alone.
So why me? Certainly not because I’m a Muslim woman. What made my approach original, I hoped, was that I had access to two generations of Canadian women who had differing opinions on the matter: my mother and my sister. Plus, thanks to my sister, I had an opportunity to be a fly on the wall at a hair salon that caters to Muslim women, which would serve as a unique narrative device tying everything together. Lastly, as a secular person raised in a Muslim household, I could strike a balance of being critical and inquisitive with being empathetic and informed.
Here’s another, unsuccessful example: In 2014, I pitched a feature about the Edmonton Urban Aboriginal Accord, a municipal declaration of principles regarding Indigenous relations that was considered landmark at the time. The editor really liked it but said something to the effect of, “it’s too bad you’re not Indigenous yourself. I don’t think you’re the person to write this.”
My omnivorous curiosity had never been tested as a generalist, only my professionalism, which I’d thought I’d shown by researching the heck out of this topic. Plus, I felt I did have some topical credentials, as I’d carved out a local niche on urbanism issues, including another short feature related to the Accord.
The editor disagreed. For the magazine that they represented, and for the long-form article that I had pitched, they thought I’d never write it as well as an Indigenous journalist whose perspective would be fine-tuned for nuances that non-Indigenous professionals like ourselves could not see.
It annoyed me then, but I agree with her now. A couple years later, another editor offered me an assignment about domestic violence. I was interested, but, for a variety of reasons, I didn’t think victimized women could open up to me and trust me the way that they would with a female reporter. I didn’t think I could write the story that the magazine and subjects deserved. The editor disagreed with me, but I declined it anyway.
Granted, if I was not financially comfortable, I would have taken the assignment and done my best to recognize and cover my blind spots. There’s nothing inherently wrong with covering a topic you don’t—or can’t—know sufficiently, so long as you try to overcome your deficits.
Which brings us to imposter syndrome because, somehow, it always does.
Everything I laid out, I hope, is about sharpening your self-awareness. Imposter syndrome, on the other hand, is about self-doubt. Although the syndrome can be a useful check on our ego and competence, more times than not it’s self-sabotage. Few writers in this industry actually have “credibility” to write about anything with genuine expertise other than maybe journalism. Some lack even that (🙋♂️). Even freelancers I know who do have a niche developed it on the job and over time.
Don’t allow yourself to believe that having genuine expertise on a subject is the default when, in fact, it’s the exception for most people in this industry. We couldn’t make a living otherwise.
Have a question? Email me! Are you shy? Ask anonymously!
Something for Your Toolbox
Mindset: Reporting on Mental Health (Third Edition)
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…and a Shameless Plug
A Very Jolly & Somewhat Belated Richard Kelly Kemick Christmas
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At Large is edited by Danielle Paradis. Find out about her and her work at danielleparadis.com.