Advice to a Young Freelancer

The emails come pretty regularly, “Hi, my name is So-and-So. I’ve started freelancing and I really like your work and am wondering if you have time for a cup of coffee.”

Last week’s coffee was with a 25 year-old. He was writing for a few local publications and felt as though he was swimming sideways, in terms of the topics he was covering and the money he was making.

He had a lot of questions, for which I had some answers, in nearly every case because I did things wrong the first (second, third, 106th) time.

Here’s hoping his questions/my responses save him and you some time.

Is it better to be a generalist?

The temptation to be every editor’s everyman is strong. You need money, and you want to be useful. So go ahead, write about fly fishing, and your last gynecological appointment, and why the hell anybody still cares about Chris Brown and Rihanna’s relationship—or maybe you do care, and deeply, and can say why. If you do write about all these things, you will be a generalist, and will likely be called an essayist.

There are many great essayists in the world. You are not yet one of them. You may, however, make a great columnist.I am a strong believer in young writers getting their chops by writing a column, if they can land one. A column gives you deadlines to meet, helps you establish your voice, wins you regular readers who grow to like you (or despise you; both have their place) and look forward to reading your work. You’re making a regular paycheck, as well as making your editor’s life easier, he or she knowing that every week/month this particular slot is filled by someone who is reliable and entertaining.

Caveat: the work you put in the world is what you will be known for. Meaning, writing about technology will get you more work writing about technology.

What would I write a column about?

What do you spend your time doing and reading about? You will write well about something you love and/or are curious about. The best writers make their curiosity the reader’s; I have often said that Joe Kane could write a 400-page book about tying his shoes and I’d read it.

That said, there are evergreen subjects, and you’ll know what they are by picking up the paper: sports, politics, books, crime, nightlife or food. These topics will be as nuanced or dull as you make them. A string bean is not a string bean, it’s an opportunity. See: Jonathan Gold, Jim Harrison, M.F.K. Fisher.

How do you find your stories?

I sometimes find story ideas in the Metro section of the newspaper, one-inch items with headlines like, “Man Nails Girlfriend’s Fish to Floor.” The short-shrift given to these stories will spark my wondering, what is this about? Usually the story doesn’t make complete sense; I want to look more deeply. I wrote about mushroom foragers in Alaska after reading one line about them in Bon Appetit. The reference started an itch that I needed to scratch; the scratch bloomed to a topic, the topic to a pitch, the pitch to a story. Follow that itch.

What do your pitches look like?

No longer than three or four paragraphs, plunked right into the body of the email. No la-di-da preamble needed or wanted, just get to it, in full color, with velocity. You’re selling the story, so sell it. Do not bog it down with, “ooh! ooh! and then all these other little points, and examples, and names and…” You gotta give the editor enough to want to see more.

You should not have all the answers going in, and the story you unearth may be very different than the one you’d envisioned; many of the best stories are. Let the story tell itself to you.

We’re getting into a little higher math here, but give the pitch the same cadence you think you will write the story in. You don’t have to second-guess what the tone should be; make it sound the way you think it should sound. You can write reverently about shoe store salesmen. Please do.

Not all stories are timely, but every publication asks itself: Why this story now? Know the answer, or at least be very persuasive.

What do you do when you feel you’re being poorly edited? When the publication is making the work look bad?

You have to fight for your work. First, the people you interviewed trusted you with their stories. You don’t want a publication mashing things around so quotes and details read out of context. Also, it’s your name on the piece. As a freelancer, indeed as any writer, your name is what will get you future work, so you’ll need to fight to make the current work look as good as it can. You may run into editors who are overly fond of alliteration, adverbs, and exclamation points. You may find yourself figuratively grabbing the hammer from the hands of the editor who smashes and smashes every sentence in an effort to lay out the facts, damn the meaning and lyricism. I choose not to work for that publication anymore.

But mostly, editors do make your work better, and do so in ways you may not yet appreciate as a young writer, so listen, and keep writing.

How do you go about cold pitches?

Cold pitching is not a great idea. Go in with a name, if you can. This is easier than you think. You might love writer X at the magazine. Tell writer X so; strike up a relationship. Or figure out which of your colleagues is writing for the publication, and ask for an introduction. Not a general introduction, as in, “Graydon Carter, please be nice to my friend Joe Schmo,” but after you’ve written a fantastic pitch ask for help getting it to the right people.

Be prepared for your friend to want to see your pitch first. He or she has a relationship with the publication, and is not going to want to be passing off any dogs.

If I don’t hear back about my pitch, should I send a follow-up email?

Yes, but not about the original story. You don’t know if the editor read it, so there is no point in dunning him or her about it. A good way to re-approach is to send another fantastic pitch, with a lead-in sentence along the lines of, “Hi. I sent you a story idea on March 17 about that Wild West show they stage at EuroDisney, real American cowboys and Indians reenacting Native genocide for European tourists. I write today about a different story, a State Department-sponsored rock band covertly spreading the message of democracy on a summer-long tour of the Middle East…”

This way, you are giving the editor an opportunity to take a second look at the first pitch. Even if he or she does not want either of your stories, there’s a good chance that a second great pitch, offered with consideration of the editor’s time, will get you a response, and a toe in the door.

It goes without saying that you are doing this by email, never by phone.

Should I write stories on spec?

I can think of no situation where it makes sense to write on spec. You want to write for free because it’s a start-up you adore? Go ahead. You want to be one of the 548 gazillion unpaid columnists at Huffington Post? Do it. Writing and publishing is the point. Spending time on a piece where you’re worried about whether the person will even commit to looking at it is icky.

Any general rules of the road?

Meet your deadlines. A publication does not care if your cat is sick or you’re moving next week. File your story on time, at or around the length agreed to.

Make your editors’ lives easier. File a nice clean story. Be open to criticism and suggestions. The best editors will ask questions that make you think, wow, that’s such a smart suggestion.

Be as loyal to your editors as you are to your stories and the people who allow you into their lives. A great editor will make you a better writer; will assign you great stories, will take you with them when they move publications.

Nancy Rommelmann’s work appears in the Wall Street Journal, the LA Weekly, the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times Magazine, among other publications. She is the author of TO THE BRIDGE (Little A, 2018) and several other works of fiction and nonfiction.

More at nancyromm.com