What Editors Want Shouldn't Be a Secret. Here's How to Pitch Splinter.
During my first year attempting to be a writer post-college, I would fire off what I thought were pretty good pitches in between bartending and babysitting shifts, only to be rejected or worse, flat-out ignored. To be fair to the editors, these pitches were terrible. They were often topics, not ideas. When they were ideas, they were grandiose cover story-type ideas no editor in their right mind would trust a 22-year-old with. My emails were unwieldy and formal, and included opening sentences like “The tale of the struggling waiter-artist in New York is nothing new.” Then why are you pitching me a story about it?
But to be fair to 22-year-old me, this was 2006, when legacy publications were the gold standard, bloggers were still largely unpaid and pantsless, and Twitter didn’t exist. The process of breaking into journalism was maddeningly opaque. Editors’ true desires seemed inscrutable. Nowadays, the barriers to entry for new writers are far lower and far less concentrated in elite institutions. But curiously, most pitches I get from young or inexperienced writers are no less embarrassing than the ones I sent a decade ago.
In the face of an increasingly hermetic media bubble, Splinter has been making a concerted effort to nurture greener writers and diversify our bylines. In that spirit, I’m here to tell you exactly how to pitch us. First, spend some time reading Splinter, particularly Voices, the vertical I edit. Voices is not a traditional opinions section; it’s rather a space for longer, more considered essays and reported narrative features from progressive writers. We like stories with a social justice bent: anything having to do with race, class, gender, LGBTQ issues, sex/sexual politics, immigration, subcultures, pop culture, and any other topic young people would care about.
Here are the forms those stories could take:
Longform: This could be a reported feature, with more traditional magazine vibes: voicey but not much first-person. Pacing is key. This could also mean a meaty reported essay with an argument at its center—perhaps illuminated through a personal narrative, or framed as a cultural deep dive.
Mediumform: Like a narrative reported feature, but mini. Focused and with fewer characters, but still has original reporting.
Think piece: These are researched but not necessarily reported, topical but not necessarily news-pegged. They often pinpoint a social or cultural issue that people are thinking about a lot but can’t quite articulate. These are the things you’re gchatting your friends about.