A quick note: this issue is longer than usual, so I’m skipping the reading list this time. I want to keep the focus on the pitch itself, along with this month’s publications open for pitches and some FAQs.
It’s been a while, SluggReaders — I know! I’ve been caught up with a few routine changes, which include training for the BurjtoBurj Half Marathon with my dream brand, Nike!!!
It’s been a challenge figuring out my flow in the past, but we’re back to the Slugg.
I initially wanted this newsletter to discuss building your confidence as a writer, and focusing on the slightly emotional side of this career path. However, I will be pushing that until next week. I’ve been thinking more about the obvious (and technical) things that I see writers struggle with, and pitching seems to be the most mentioned.
To me, it has become a no-brainer matter, but as I was writing it, I realised how much thought actually goes into it, and I would’ve probably pitched much earlier in my career had I been given somewhat of a formula to start with. So without dragging this any longer, let’s get into it.
🐌 The (Long) Slug 🐌
My rule of thumb for coming up with a pitch is a line from Latto’s “Sunday Service” Remix featuring Megan Thee Stallion & Flo Milli:
“Do you rap or do you tweet? ‘Cause I can’t tell, get in the booth, b*tch”
Every time I mention this, people either laugh or look slightly perplexed. But I honestly think it’s the best test of whether a pitch is good before you send it.
This applies to most kinds of pitches, whether business, culture or anything else. But I’m going to specifically talk about pitching a feature (your average feature, somewhere between 800 and 1,300 words), as opposed to newsy pieces or listicle-esque writing.
SO - do you rap or do you tweet? Is your idea a shower thought, or a substantial piece of work? Does it have room to grow?
A weak rap song only references an existing song and brings nothing new. A smart one nods to the OGs and builds something original on top. And a good article somehow works the same way. Does your idea only borrow from what already exists, or does it build on it?
People often ask how to phrase a pitch, what time to email an editor, and whether the editor will even see it. Those are valid questions. But even if you reach the perfect editor at the perfect hour and they reply, a pitch that isn’t well thought out loses you the opportunity.
So instead of writing in the usual big paragraph blocks — I’m going to bullet-point this one.
Step one: Research
Ask people around you whether they’ve thought about this too. Check whether the idea hasn’t been covered yet, or at least not the way you want to cover it. Good research is broad. It includes Twitter (X…whatever) threads, Instagram discussions and TikToks, as well as academic papers and articles from the ’90s and early 2000s.
In this phase, you’re trying to understand what the public thinks about your topic. Especially with a cultural pitch, part of your job is to gather all of this, sift through it, and look for a pattern in what people are saying…or not saying at all.
Step two: Finding your precise angle
The angle isn’t your topic; it’s your specific way into it, and the lens that sets your piece apart from everything you found while researching.
List the examples that prove and go against your point, then think about who you want to interview. People who relate to the topic? Experts as well? Only experts? Only everyday people?
These choices will help shape the angle. Is the story what experts think about something? How both the public and the experts see it? Or how the public is responding to an existing expert opinion, in which case you quote that opinion and only interview members of the public?
Knowing this at an early stage, and knowing who to speak to, is very important to you and your potential editor.
Step three: Sketch a skeleton
Next, sketch a quick skeleton of how the piece will move from point A to point Z: paragraph one does this, paragraph two does that. Maybe the intro sets out the general state of things before getting into the details. Maybe you open with your own experience and then move to other people’s.
The options are endless, and you don’t need to know your opening graph yet. But what matters is how the idea progresses through the piece.
—> All of these steps happen in your notebook, between you and yourself.
But how long does this take?
An editor once told me it takes him a week to think of a pitch. Sometimes it takes two days. I once thought out a pitch in an hour, a day at most, and I secured it. I’ve once worked on a pitch for a full month. Time spent doesn’t make a pitch better or worse. Some topics come to you naturally, and you need to allow that space.
You can spend a week on an idea and realise it doesn’t have the footing you thought it did. That’s okay. Not everything you think of will work, and accepting that makes it much easier to send pitches without spiralling over “will this get rejected?”
Stay open to finding out halfway through that it isn’t. You’re not wasting any work. You’re building the muscle.
Over time, as you go deeper into certain topics and meet more people around them, some pitches will come more easily. Right now, sports come easier to me than arts and culture. I’m prepping for a half marathon and living in that world, so my brain moves faster there. I haven’t lost my muscle for pitching the arts. It’s just taken a back seat.
The longer you spend in the industry, the more you learn to accept these ebbs and flows. If you live and breathe art, you’ll probably always have it. Either way, experiment.
Don’t let pitching become a dreadful task, and see where your ideas take you.
Now, to the email.
Before you hit send
1. Am I pitching the right editor?
Check the masthead. If you’re pitching a print feature, find the editor who handles print features, not the digital editor. Pitching the wrong editor is the first mistake you can make. If you want the lifestyle section at Vogue or Dazed, find the editors in that section. Don’t pitch lifestyle to the sports desk and hope they’ll forward it.
If a magazine doesn’t list its masthead or emails, that’s okay. You’ll need to phrase your email accordingly.
This also depends on your relationship with the publication. If you know the sports editor at, say, GQ and want to pitch culture, it’s fine to write: “Hi, I know I usually pitch sports. Could you point me to the culture editor?” For now, though, let’s assume this is a new publication and an editor you’ve never spoken to.
2. They don’t know me, so how do I introduce myself?
Say who you are, where you’re based, what you do and who you’ve written for. Then share two or four bylines that reflect the kind of writing you’re pitching. I usually go with four. If I’m pitching sports, I send sports pieces. If I’m pitching fashion, I send fashion pieces. The point is to show the editor how you know the topic and how you approach it.
There’s one exception. If you’re pitching a long-form feature (2,000+ words), include a long-form piece regardless of topic, and note something like: “This one’s about art, but it shows how I handle long-form.”
A tip: keep a document of your top bylines sorted by category, such as culture, profiles and sports. Refresh it as you go. When you’re sending an arts pitch, your top two are already there, ready to reorder depending on the editor. Having that system prepped makes pitching so much faster.
3. The pitch itself
Your subject line should be “Pitch:” followed by your pitch’s title. If it’s timely, write “Timely pitch:” instead. That tells the editor whether this needs covering in the next week or two or can be worked on over the next 20–30 days.
Then the body:
Hello [Editor],
I hope you’re well. My name is [Name], and I’m a [City]-based freelance journalist who has written for [publications].
I’d like to pitch an idea for your [culture/food/beauty/sports/arts] section. [Your pitch, in two short paragraphs.]
Here are a few bylines to give you a sense of my writing: [links]
I look forward to hearing from you.
Kindest regards,
[Name]
For the pitch itself, open with what you’ve noticed: “People around me have been…”, “There’s been a rise in…”, “I’ve been thinking about…”. Then explain your angle and how you’ll trace the idea through the piece. If you have metrics, link them, because they show your idea has proof.
Then say who you want to speak to. If you’ve already reached out to people or have access to someone, say so: “I have access to so-and-so.” You don’t have to name names, but say what kinds of voices you want and roughly how many: two opinions, or two to four people. Finally, say the length you see it working at, whether that’s 800 words or 1,500.
I aim to keep the pitch to two short paragraphs, around 180–220 words. Don’t fuss too much over the word count. Just don’t let it run long.
What I like to see (and what I don’t), as an editor
What I like to see:
Exploration, when you know you’re exploring. I don’t mind if your pitch says, “I’d like to explore…” You can tell me that you might reach very different conclusions from where you started, and I like that. A piece led by curiosity, one that runs into conflicting opinions along the way, is exciting. Not everything has to be agreeable. But you need to be aware that you’re exploring.
A well-written pitch. If I’ve never worked with you, your pitch is basically a writing sample. How you write it tells me how you’ll write the article. Maybe you haven’t published much, or you’ve only written academically and want to move into magazines. That’s completely okay, and it’s valid to be scared of getting the phrasing wrong. Write the pitch as if you’re writing the article, and you’ll show me how you’ll approach it.
The right register. Too uptight, and I’ll worry you can’t write in the house style. Too loose, as if I’m your friend, and I’ll worry about your syntax and thought progression. Find the sweet spot.
A pitch that matches the publication. If it’s a science-heavy magazine, include data, so I know you’re actually looking at it. If it’s a lifestyle pitch, give me the feel. Your pitch should carry the feel of the piece you want to write.
Relevant bylines. Always.
Access, for profiles. If you’re pitching a celebrity profile, I need to know you can actually reach the person. “I have access to this actor, who’s working on a top-secret project that would sit really well in your August print issue (or on digital)” gets my attention. It tells me you have something insightful or exclusive to offer.
What I don’t want to see:
A shower thought, or rambling with nowhere to go. If I feel you don’t know where you’re taking the story, that turns me off immediately, and I won’t commission it.
Anything too long. I’ll read it, but it doesn’t help your case.
Pre-written pieces. Never send an editor a finished article. It’s tempting to think they’ll read it, love it, and that’ll make things easier, but that’s not how it works. Editors sift through so many ideas, and a full piece is overwhelming and unnecessary, especially if it doesn’t work out. The exception is a publication that asks for manuscripts, which usually happens in literature. For most general publications, just send the pitch.
A profile pitch with no access. If you’re telling me you want to do this piece but have no idea how to reach the person, then what exactly are you pitching?
On rejection and ghosting
Not every editor is the same. Some are less patient, and some will ghost you and never respond. That’s okay. Don’t lead with the fear of “will this get ghosted?” Ask instead: how can I present myself so that even if this is rejected, I’m still confident in the work I put in?
It’s such an important quality to have, and a good editor can sense it through a pitch, even if many people don’t realise it. I’ve rejected pitches that were so well written, with bylines that showed the person knew what they were talking about, that I replied: “Thank you for sending this through. I’m not going to take it, but I’d still love to work with you. Maybe you could write for so-and-so, or think of ideas for this section.”
So the goal isn’t only to land the pitch. It’s to start a good working relationship with that editor.
How can you present yourself so well that, even if this is your only shot, it counts? Yes, that can bring anxiety. But you can turn that anxiety into time and thought, and into doing something really well before you send it.
And that’s it. That’s how you write a solid pitch. :)
HOMEWORK
There isn’t much specific homework I can give for something like pitching, but here are three things to try:
A. Practise a pitch, just for yourself. This weekend, or whenever you have time, think of a topic and work out how you’d approach it. It doesn’t matter whether it’s been covered before or never discussed at all. This is purely practice.
B. Organise your portfolio. If you have one, create a document with your work sorted by topic or by type of feature. Future you will thank you the next time you pitch.
C. Pitch your idea to a friend. Ideally one with no interest in or knowledge of the industry. See if you can grab their attention and make them want to know more. It’s a good gauge of whether other people see what you’re seeing in the idea.
At the end of the day, your editor commissions you for the reader. You’re not trying to impress someone with your pitch. You’re trying to communicate a thought you want the public to read, one that will benefit them.
🗂️ Writing Opportunities 🗂️
T: THE NEW YORK TIMES STYLE MAGAZINE MENA
Rates: 1AED per word (27 cents per word)
The publication is often open to culture pitches across MENA.
Application: Email kate.wolmarans@itp.com and/or sara.hamdan@itp.com
LITTLE WHITE LIES
Rates: £0.20 per word for online commissions and a flat fee of £85 for reviews
LWL is a London-based bi-monthly film magazine covering mainstream and independent cinema from around the world. The digital editor, Hannah, is open to pitches. Submissions guide is here.
Application: Email hannah@ tcolondon. com
CURRENT AFFAIRS
Rates: $250 for online pieces, $350 for print articles
They publish political commentary and analysis, are interested in nonfiction articles on politics and culture, and are always looking for pitches. Here’s their writer’s guide for more details.
Application: Submit through the pitch form.
If you are an editor looking for pitches and would like to be listed here, please reach out, and I’ll add to next week’s issue.
🛎️ SluggDesk™ 🛎️
I will respond to your SluggDesk questions in the upcoming issues, but for this one, I have accumulated a list of notes/FAQs that pertain to pitching!
1. Following up: when, how often, and when to let it go
A polite nudge after a week or ten days is the norm. If you’re friendly with the editor, you can follow up twice. If there’s still nothing a week after your last nudge, let it go and move to your next option.
2. Pitching several places at once
My rule of thumb is to always pitch Plan A first. Say your top choice is NYT and your second is Wired, and third is your local newspaper. Pitch NYT first. Even between regional titles, pitch the one you want most. If they say no, move to Plan B.
Personally, I don’t pitch the same idea to multiple editors at once. I make sure each pitch suits that specific publication, and I tweak it before moving it elsewhere. That said, I’ll leave this one to your discretion.
3. Pitching with no bylines
It’s completely okay, but it depends on what you’re pitching. If you pitch me a 2,000-word feature with no bylines, I probably won’t commission you. If you pitch a listicle or a 500-word short piece, and it’s a good pitch and I can sense you’re a good writer, you’re much more likely to get it.
If you don’t have published bylines, send what you do have: a university paper, a blog, a personal Substack. Try to send something close to the topic you’re pitching. It still gives me a sense of your writing.
4. Finding emails
This gets easier the longer you’re in the industry. Ask people. Some editors will reply on Instagram and give you their email. Mine is on my Instagram, and I usually respond to DMs, but it depends on the person. You can also try to guess the company’s email format, and some newsletters share editors’ emails. There are plenty of ways to reach out.
Sometimes even I can’t find an email, and I have to accept that — maybe one day, just not today.
5. Money: when and how to ask about the fee
If an editor wants to commission you, they’ll usually tell you their fee. If they don’t, ask point blank: “What are your rates?” If you have a rate, share it: “This is my rate, but I’m open to hearing what your fee is.”
I know payment feels like a tricky subject, but it really shouldn’t be. I’ll cover fees and payment properly in a separate newsletter.
6. You got a yes. Now what?
Ask about the money if it wasn't mentioned. Then agree on the word count, deadline, fee and brief. Ask how they work, and have a proper conversation about how the process will go.
7. Idea theft
Some publications do steal ideas. It’s never happened to me, and I don’t know many people it’s happened to, but I’ve read the horror stories online.
All you can do is pitch and hope for the best.
Even if someone steals your idea, you still have your brain, and you can generate more. We also live in an age of social accountability, so if calling someone out publicly is your thing, you can. Depending on the situation, I’d probably let it go. For the most part, editors don’t want to steal your ideas. They want to commission the right person for them. So yes, it exists, but don’t let it become a major fear.
8. One idea or several per email?
Ideally, one idea per email. If a publication puts out a call for specific themes, you can send two or three. If you’re friendly with the publication, maybe two. If you’re really close with an editor, you might send three or four in one email, and sometimes pitching even happens on a call. But that takes a very different kind of relationship.
Hey there, anonymous reader,
If you would like to see your questions in next week’s newsletter, please drop me an email at desk@sluggmail.com.
I look forward to your questions!
