I am no journalist.
I write memoir, the kind of essay, nonfiction that may never bring in the big bucks.
My latest freelance rejection of a pitch I’d sent out, early in the week, the editor in her email response said:
“I find this story objectively interesting…”
Oh, great. That sounds positive. As long as I stayed focused on her first few lines of the email, all looked promising, but then:
“but it’s not really a fit for us. We do very few personal essay stories of this sort”.
It is my responsibility to learn what any publication I pitch publishes, what sort of pieces, and a lot are journalistic in tone. I can write, could, and maybe I will get there.
She did proceed to include in the email, a pitch doc for what she said was:
“to help shape future pitches”.
Not sure if she meant that is encouragement to try again with them in the future or just as a general tool. Either way, I appreciated the gesture.
I haven’t been able to map my writing road as such. Somehow, I ended up in a group on Facebook and there I saw editors asking for certain kinds of pieces. They were mostly about things from marginalized writers and voices and I qualified.
I had written pieces which were published on various websites, publications, and blogs, but none were paying, until this year. It’s nothing to retire on, but it felt like I was finally pulling my own weight.
So, I barely call myself a freelancer, just like I barely called myself a writer for a long long time.
Eventually, that changed. I moved up on this particular ladder. I now refer to myself as a writer. I am literary and would like to write memoirs and novels and plenty more, but if freelance work can find a spot in there somewhere too, I will do my best.
***This is my first year of joining the A to Z Challenge and so I’ve decided to post randomly, as a way for new visitors to my blog to get to know me a little better. I look forward to discovering some interesting new blogs too.