Stellar idea for a story born while hoovering the stairs
Immediately condense what is crystallising as a brilliant, original, ground-breaking idea into a succinct tease of a pitch and send off to one very lucky editor at a deeply suitable publication
A week later, no reply
Follow up, no reply
Send to another editor
No reply
Send pitch to any and all editors you can find the email addresses of at the same time
Anxiety that all editors will want the story
Anxiety that you don’t know correct protocol when it comes to fending off editors
Anxiety that editors who miss out on the story will blacklist you
Daydream about negotiating some kind of bidding war between desperate editors
Silence from all editors
More silence from all editors
Breezy follow up email to all editors asking if pitch has been received and if any thoughts were to be had
Silence from all editors
“Why does everyone hate me and my ideas?” sent to WhatApp group of long-suffering friends, one of whom takes the reins and feeds you some nourishing compliments
One editor replies describing pitch as “interesting” but “not for us at this time”. There is no suggestion that you should pitch to them at any other time
Consider a career as an estate agent in order to gain free car
Put gratuitous picture up on Instagram to shore up self esteem
Suspect everyone hates picture because you are a narcissist with an oily T zone
Delete Instagram
Another editor replies with apologies for late response. You identify them as someone who doesn’t hate you; they have in fact been on annual leave and what’s more, they want your brilliant idea. They have identified you as an accomplished pitch-writer, storyteller and journalist and would like your ground-breaking work
Feel extremely professional and valued
Realise that the pay is appalling
Realise the deadline is q. tight
Realise that this is actually a hugely complex topic with lots of branches creeping off hither and thither
Put out a call for case studies on Insta Stories. Someone you used to get off with at university replies: “How r u?”
You set up phone interview with actual case study
Five minutes before phone interview you establish your Dictaphone is at large
Find Dictaphone in bottom of handbag with tobacco clogged into some of the buttons. Fear it may not work so employ 15-year-old shorthand on the back of an envelope from British Gas as back up
Hope that the interviewee is a talker but not too much of a talker
The interviewee speaks ceaselessly for 8,000 words which takes you lightyears to transcribe
Agreed word count is 1,000 words
Quickly nip to the fridge to see if there’s anything exciting in it
Having inhaled six Babybel and got rid of some 3,000 words you’re ready to roll up your sleeves
Write a terrible, hackneyed introduction: “There’s something magical about April…”
Consider going for a walk to clear head but just really quickly play Candy Crush for 45 minutes
Highlight all the important bits of the story but realise everything on page is important or else it wouldn’t be there in the first place, would it?
Wrestle with a rat’s nest page of complete nonsense
Become obsessed with one paragraph which is not relevant to feature in any way at all but contains a rather pithy sentence you came up with
Remodel entire feature to ensure that genius paragraph is included
Realise this is not killing one’s darlings and cut the beautiful paragraph, putting it in another document for future shoehorning purposes. Prose like that doesn’t come around every day
Now you’re into the swing of things and it’s all going brilliantly. This is what you were made to do, this is easy, this is natural. Daydream about your English teacher giving you 54/54 in GCSE creative writing coursework and think “she knew… SHE. KNEW.”
Realise you’ve used the word “understood” 13 times and fire up the Thesaurus
Realise you are 1,000 words over word count and ruthlessly start slashing at quotes
Hate the entire shit-arse story which now makes no sense whatsoever
Print it off and edit with a pen. Old school and precise because this is the level of professionalism and service editors can expect from you
Finally, it’s basically perfect. It is three words over word count and you are thrilled with your precision and professionalism
Perhaps this might make a cover story. Maybe this will go viral. Or lead to a book deal! Maybe the book will be the basis of a docu-series which you will present! You are basically the new Stacey Dooley. God, you’re on the cusp of fame – possibly on an international level
File smugly on the morning of the deadline and wait for instant praise
Silence from editor
A week later there is still silence from editor
A week after that you send a casual “hope all was ok with the story?”
The editor responds. “Thanks. Just had a chance to edit – marks attached.”
Marks? What marks? Why marks?
Open file riddled with block capitals and question marks: “IS THERE A HOOK TO FEMINISM HERE? NEED MORE STATS! NOT SURE THIS MAKES SENSE? WHY IS THIS RELEVANT? CAN YOU TONE DOWN THE ‘SATIRE’ PLEASE? WHO IS JOHN?”
Consider digging hole in garden and burying yourself alive because editor hates you and thinks your work is second rate bollocks. The book deal seems a long way away
Feel too afraid to make a start on the edits. The ship has sailed. You’re obviously useless
Go onto Instagram and look at the wedding of someone you have never met which appears to have taken place in an Italian castle. Follow the tag on her wedding dress and then browse all wedding dresses on the designer’s wall. Wonder if your own wedding dress having had such a high neckline is something you should regret
Reread editor’s email searching for a grain of optimism and realise it says “can you get this back to me by tomorrow am pls?”
Make a start on the edits and thoroughly disagree with each and every one of them, except “WHO IS JOHN?”, because you introduced him late in the piece with no surname or context, which you must admit is poor by anyone’s standards
Send the edits back with nothing but a curt “thanks” in the body of the email. Nothing like giving a blast of cold shoulder to an editor who literally doesn’t know or care who you are
Silence and nothing but silence
Weeks pass. Story is nowhere
Grow anxious about whereabouts of the story
Send a whisper of an email “checking in”
Email back from editor: “Can you rework this so it’s still timely and relevant please?”
Fantasise about sending the editor one of your cat’s turds in the post
Make the story timely and relevant which it was when you filed it to deadline FUCKING MONTHS AGO
Re-file and send a slightly terse email about how you can best invoice
Silence
Grow anxious about whereabouts of the story
YOU’VE BEEN PUBLISHED AND POTENTIALLY MILLIONS OF PEOPLE ARE READING YOUR WORDS RIGHT NOW AS THEY SIP OVERPRICED COFFEE
Spend actual hours creating an Instagram grid post about your story, working out how to say “headline is not what I would have chosen myself” without cheesing the editor off
Realise editor does not follow you on Instagram anyway, freeing you up to be your authentic self
LINK IN BIO BITCHES!
Feel irritated that not as many people are whinnying about your work on social media as you might have anticipated for what you would absolutely class as the turning point of your entire career and life
Read the story again and become mercurial with rage that one of your best lines was taken out
Ask your husband if he thinks you are an egomaniac. He says “why do you ask?”
Check emails for any form of spin off work
No work appears to have spun off
Stellar idea for a story born while hoovering the stairs