How to Sell a Story

Simple steps to pitching a magazine or newspaper

The world is full of journalism schools and writing advice, but there’s surprisingly little formal guidance out there about how to get your non-fiction articles published. That’s a surprise. At many outlets where I’ve worked, about half of the stories were assigned by editors to staff or freelance contributors, while the other half were proposed by writers themselves.

For all that pitching is a standard path to publication, even professional journalists find it intimidating. I found out just how bad it was when, as the editor-in-chief of The Walrus, I posted a thread called “How to Pitch a Magazine” on X, then Twitter.

At the time, I worried my tips might be too obvious and basic. I went ahead because I hate the barrier that stands before someone who could be pitching their first story, or their best story. In conversation, sometimes people were able to explain the stories they really wanted to write; the formality of pitching froze them up. (We must all fight the phenomenon of the writer who doesn’t write.)

Pitching is much more of a science than an art. A lot of the unsuccessful pitches we received when I was at The Walrus shared certain traits: Many were too long, but others were too vague. A good percentage of writers seemed to be asking permission to explore a topic rather than suggesting a story itself. (Good material for a therapy session, but editors are in the business of acquiring viable articles.)

That thread turned out to be one of the most viral things I ever posted. It’s been shared more than 4,000 times and incorporated into other pitching guides; a photographer adapted it for his photojournalism classes.

Over the last few years, I have come to see those pitching tips in a different light. When I first wrote them, I was a professional editor speaking to an audience of (I thought) mostly professional or aspiring journalists. Partly because of the character limits on X, some of the terms and processes it refers to can serve as a barrier to outsiders. I’ve also incorporated questions from my literary journalism classes.

The ideal pitch is two or three paragraphs: just enough room to introduce yourself, explain the story, and to create a sense of why it needs to be done right now. It’s an exchange of information, designed to pique further interest — nothing more, nothing less.

These pitching guidelines should help you submit respectable, non-embarrassing pitches to even the most intimidating publications.

How to Pitch an Editor:

1. Say who you are (1-2 lines). This is a place to be natural. Just as in introducing ourselves at a party, a lot of us get hung up on this, thinking we need to be impressive. But most editors just want to know where you’re based and the kind of writing you do (sports, fiction, etc.) Here’s one I might use: “I’m a writer and editor from Toronto; my work has recently been published in the Toronto Star, the Guardian, and The Walrus.”
   
   If you have met the editor before, or have a friend in common, it’s OK to mention that. But this is a place where nothing is really as relevant as your ability to write this piece. So don’t worry about listing everything you’ve ever done in life. Pick out two or three examples and link to your social media or website.
   
   And if you’ve never been published, a perfectly appropriate bio is, “I am a writer based in Toronto.” I have commissioned plenty of first-time writers from bios like this if their experience suits the subject matter.
   

2. What’s the story? (1-2 paragraphs). This is the hardest part. But it should be possible to explain the story, why it’s significant, and how you could cover it in a single paragraph — at the most, two. Save your brilliance for the actual writing, and don’t waste an editor’s time by trying to work in the nuances of the issue. Stick to the “who, what, where, when, and how” of the idea and you should be fine. (I don’t even think you need much of the “why” at this point.)
   
   If you can’t do that, consider that you might not be ready to sell the story. Pitch when you could begin to write the story whether you have the assignment or not.
   
   When you pitch, you’re usually not looking for a story but selling one. (“I’d like to explore …” is not a pitch; it’s a note to self.)
   
   Do give the description of the story some takeaway or insight — a reason it should be published. Journalists call this angle the peg — the metaphorical piece of wood on which your story is going to hang (I don’t know why!) A peg can be an event, a product’s release, a recent discovery or conflict.
   
   What are you going to uncover that no one else is able, or that hasn’t been said already? Why does it need to be assigned right now?
   

3. Say why you should do it. (1-2 lines) This is key. How do you know the subject? What’s your connection to the community or issue? This is an editor’s way of judging whether you can deliver. A rookie reveals themselves by pitching a story about a place or person they have no access to, then comes back with nothing.
   
   You’re probably getting the sense that pitching involves a lot of work. It does, but writing takes more. While this background effort might seem laborious, a well-done pitch is the foundation of your finished work. You’re convincing an editor, but you’re also creating a plan for delivering the assignment.
   
   You don’t have to know exactly what you’re going to conclude in the story at this point — that’s what reporting is for. But you should have a sense of the question(s) you want to answer or have developed a theory, especially when it comes to explaining a viral trend or a profile subject. Have an idea of the subjects or experts you need to talk to you and the amount of time it might take to do the research.
   

4. Deadline? If you have a time constraint (for instance, an event you want to cover starts soon and you will need to book travel), this is a good place to indicate it. It will also offer a built-in opportunity to follow up.
   
   Professional outlets usually have policies about whether they take simultaneous submissions. The more high-profile an outlet, the less likely it is they do that. If you’re not sure, look for the publication’s submission guidelines. It’s a good to check those anyway. In Canada, I like that This magazine (a launching pad for many professional journalists) often provides issue deadlines.
   
   As an editor, I’ve always appreciated the offer of a window of exclusivity on a story idea before a writer submitted it elsewhere — it would make me do my best to get back to them. An exception to this rule is in news, where to receive no answer within 24 hours can generally be taken as rejection.

   

   My desk at one time. After the pandemic, we used a lot less paper.

5. Questions? This is a good opportunity to invite conversation about your pitch that could expand on the above. That’s why it’s not necessary to say everything in your initial email. The editor might need to know something specific about the story, logistics, or your angle; in a minority of cases, they might ask for a meeting. Ask now if they have all the information they need to make a decision, and make it clear you’re interested in working with them.
   
   Remember to thank the editor for reading your submission. I still remember correspondence I had with writers or my own editors years later, even if we didn’t even end up working together at the time. Sometimes, based on the quality of that conversation, we did work together in another time and place.
   
   This community — the love of writing and communication we share — as frustrating and closed as it can seem at times, is a gift. It’s one of the rewards of writing, and life, I think.

I hope this all encourages you to submit more, not less. And above all, don’t fear failure — it’s part of the work of professional writing. As a freelancer I found that I needed to have a certain number of ideas in play to end up with an appropriate number of assignments. The ones that don’t make the cut free you up to do the ones that will. A pitch itself is nothing to worry about — it’s the simple exchange of information. When you get self-conscious about your idea, you can always come back to that.