Tag-Archive for ◊ query ◊

27 Jun 2011 The New York Times Backstory

If you find the time, can you write in your blog and share with us how you made it to the New York Times and the International Herald Tribune?  I think NYT is the dream of many freelance journalists.  What was the experience like? Honestly, I haven’t tried sending queries to these major international dailies.  I think that I still need to learn more and get enough bylines and experience.

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When a reader of this blog sent me this question, I thought, what a great question. Let’s see how I can answer it. Then, having already taken a lot of flak on this blog for how easy it’s been for me to break into these publications (it hasn’t) and the fact that the NYT was a personal as well as professional struggle for me, I chickened out and wrote back, “Well, just send a good query letter.”

I felt a bit uneasy about that, because it’s not the complete truth, and like the poster says, NYT is a dream for so many journalists. So I’ve decided to share the back story.

I first pitched the NYT five years ago, and clearly I got the wrong editor because I received a very nice e-mail response saying while they liked my writing and my credits, they already had a full-time staff in India and didn’t take freelance contributions. I believed that and so didn’t try again for another couple of years. Around this time, I knew someone who was very close to me who did jobs (not writing) for the Times and who I trusted, and one day, I mentioned to him a few story ideas that I had that I thought were perfect for them that I was thinking of pitching as soon as I built up the nerve to contact them. Wouldn’t you know it, two of those ideas showed up in the Times that very month under his girlfriend’s byline.

My first reaction was to be gutted. I couldn’t read the Times for months without my entire body quivering with rage. But slowly, I began to get back my confidence, to realize that if my ideas had been good enough to be published in the Times, heck, I should be pitching them! But I didn’t, of course, not for another year or so.

When I was in the US, I became a regular reader of the Times and started seeing names of freelancers popping up routinely in the international section (my favorite part of the paper). When I returned, I suppose I was just a little bit wiser and a lot more confident about my abilities as a journalist. At a dinner at one of my editor’s place, I met a New York Times journalist, who I knew was one of the top eds and had decision-making power, and a few days later, I shared the idea for a story on plastic roads with her and asked if she might help me get in touch with the right editor. This lovely lovely woman e-mailed back within minutes with the name and contact information of the right editor, and a few days later, I had my first assignment with the the IHT/Times.

Now, here’s the thing: As lovely as this journalist is, I don’t think she would have given me any contact information unless she thought I had a good idea. My query letter was well-written, my credits were good, but what really made it happen was that the idea was stellar. Not only had I never seen it covered before, but when the piece was published, it was linked to everywhere. People loved it. (And no, I can’t take credit for that stellar idea, because Sam found it, e-mailed me and practically forced me to pitch it. I LURVE him.)

I’ve loved working for the Times, obviously (big surprise there, I know) or I wouldn’t continue writing for them, and I’m hoping they’ll continue to like me back and send more work my way in the future.

Oh, and the query letter that got it all started? Here it is. As you can see, it’s not the best query ever written; it’s definitely the story that makes this piece.

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Dear Editor:

[My contact] at the New York Times suggested I contact you.

I have a story idea [contact] thought you may be interested in, and so I’m including it below for your consideration.

A bit about me: I’m a freelance journalist based in New Delhi, India, and write for Time, Parade, Global Post, Ms., Marie Claire, and Women’s eNews, among others. Please feel free to check out my work on my website www.mridukhullar.com.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.

Best,
Mridu Khullar

**

Pitch: The Plastic Road Less Traveled

Two problems: One, the monsoon every year ensures that India’s already battered roads bleed and suffer extensive damage. Two, tons of wasted plastic disposed improperly is becoming a huge environmental menace, and the country’s landfills are overflowing with it.

One solution: plastic roads.

In Chennai and other parts of the state of Tamil Nadu, experimental plastic roads (1,500 kilometers) have already been placed. The result: cheaper, environment-friendly roads that not only don’t have to be repaired each year, but have no potholes, something most of the country’s roads can’t boast.

In fact, the idea has been so successful that it is being implemented in other cities of India as well: in New Delhi, Bangalore, and Kolkata.

The roads came about because of K K Plastic Waste Management Private Ltd, which was formed after the founder Ahmed Khan came up with the idea while he was experimenting with different kinds of plastic materials. He conducted research for several years, building one road, then approached the Central Road Research Institute, New Delhi (CRRI) to do further research and lay many more. It is done, though, with every state government’s approval as well as supervision.

There is currently only a 1 km stretch of plastic road in Delhi, but like I mentioned 1,500 kms in the state of Tamil Nadu, and several stretches in the city of Bangalore, the IT hub of the country, where many more are planned. In fact, the government of Bangalore is looking to make the city plastic roads only.

A unique feature of the project is that it actually makes use of the waste plastic bags that are used for food packaging as well as several other waste plastic that comes from everyday living and often ends up in the country’s landfills (and is typically burned causing health problems in surrounding areas). The costs of road-building have gone down by 10-15%.

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Here’s the resulting piece: Plastic Roads Offer Greener Way to Travel in India

24 Jun 2011 The Difference Between Newspapers and Magazines

Would you do a post on how to pitch the big newspapers such as the Times, Washington Post, etc.? Is it different from pitching magazines since newspapers already have reporters on staff?

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This is basically the reverse question from yesterday, and like I said, the process can be different between magazines and newspapers because of the frequency and style of the two mediums. Here are my top tips for pitching newspapers:

1. Keep it short. Newspaper editors don’t have the time to wade through two pages of quotes and sidebar suggestions. Newspaper editors, even those from the Times and Washington Post, understand that you’ll be doing the bulk of your research and reporting later.

2. Don’t pitch breaking news. Once you’ve started writing for a newspaper or news magazine regularly, they might be open to suggestions or giving you assignments, but for your initial contact, avoid stories that need to go in tomorrow’s paper. Trust me, their reporters have it covered.

3. You know why breaking into the New York Times is so difficult? Because their editors and their correspondents read everything and know of pretty much everything that’s going on in a region. If one doesn’t, the other does. Can you find a story or trend that is new enough that none of them have heard of or thought of covering? It’s one of the hardest parts of breaking into these big papers, but that one big idea will be what you need to get your foot in the door.

4. When I first started pitching the Times, I made the classic mistake of sending through big investigative story ideas. Why I thought they’d see it fit to assign 4,000-word stories that would cost them thousands in legal fees to an unfamiliar writer, I don’t know, but I wanted to sparkle. I wanted to wow them with what I could do, these amazing stories that I could find. They never responded. So now when I say pitch a big idea, I don’t mean stories that are going to take you months or years to report. I mean find stories that are interesting to their audience but under-reported. Stories that are reported in local or regional language papers, stories that haven’t yet found their way to the mainstream but are important and timely. Again, I think this is actually the hardest part of writing for big newspapers and magazines, this finding of the idea. And needless to say, it can be a time-consuming enterprise. The good news is that it does get easier with practice.

5. If it’s been published in the Washington Post or other competing papers, don’t pitch it to the Times and vice versa. The editors have seen the story already. If they want to cover it, they’ll get their correspondents on it even before you’ve finished writing the pitch.

6. If it doesn’t have recent significance, don’t pitch it. Old stories are often re-reported, but they need to have new angles and new relevance to them. Unless your idea, even if it’s a feature story, has a news hook, it’s not going to work.

7. Find the right person to pitch. Newspapers are complicated beasts with editors spread over the entire world. If you’re an international writer, do you pitch to the bureau here, the editors in New York, section editors, what? The answer is that it depends from paper to paper and section to section. Find out. Do your research. Check out the bylines. Read the darn thing.

8. Finally, relax! Take a deep breath. Yes, it’s the New York Times or the Washington Post or whatever, but as with every other publication, the worst they can do is say no. And maybe they’ll say no again. And again. Until eventually, one day you’ll find an idea that’s the perfect fit, the query that hits the right spot, and you’ll wake up in the morning to an e-mail that says, “Hi Mridu, I’m so-and-so from the New York Times. I’ve just gotten the go-ahead to work with you on this story.”

Good luck!

01 Nov 2010 What’s Fact? What’s Fiction?

It isn’t the things you don’t know that get you into trouble. It’s the things that you think you do.

As a new freelancer I relied a lot on the wisdom of others — of writers who ran newsletters, of writers who had published credits, of writers who spoke of which they knew. I learned, with the help of these talented and exceptionally generous writers, how to write a query letter, what it means to submit an assignment, how to research, interview, and format, and most importantly, how much of a role marketing would come to play in my career.

But what I ignored during this period of learning were my own thoughts and experiences on the subject. How, even though writers said that you shouldn’t pick up the phone, sometimes it just seemed more sensible to do so. How, because I lived in India, it was a real practical difficulty to send queries by mail when e-mail would have worked just fine. How there was value to being a global freelancer by providing hyper local stories. But the more experienced I became, the more I started questioning these tried and tested rules. I became an e-mail only querier. I wrote without contracts, I forgot to submit invoices. I went off and met my sources when a phone interview would have worked just fine. I learned to trust my own instinct, and began to realize that a lot of what writers believe to be freelancing fact is actually freelancing fiction.

There is truth to the “rules,” there is absolutely no doubt about it. But like with everything else, the rules in freelancing need to be bent now and again if you want to achieve true success. It is not enough any more to base your career on someone else’s experience. Sometimes you have to go out and make the mistakes for yourself because what might have worked for one person might be a monumental mistake for another.

In the coming days I want to talk about these freelancing facts and fiction, especially as they concern the international freelancer, who lives and works from outside the United States and Western Europe. What exactly are these rules that writers have come up with that seem so necessary to advance your career? What happens when you break away from some of them? What are the consequences, the advantages, the disadvantages of questioning some of the known pieces of wisdom that have been passed on for years, even decades? Do these rules continue to apply in the new media climate? How can you tell if you’re breaking the rules or just working in a different media environment if you live in an Asian or African country?

In the following chapters I’m going to examine some of the things we’ve come to believe about writing, about freelancing, and about this industry in general. These are my experiences, and remember, yours may be different. But I really believe that while each of us has to come to our conclusions, knowing how someone else did it is immensely helpful.

Just don’t substitute my experience for your own.

11 Dec 2009 The Promise of the Pitch

I’m in marketing mode again this week, after my pitching yielded results right in the first week of December and gave me some extra momentum to push. It’s one of those periods when I’m not as concerned about the writing part (and struggling with it a little bit, actually), but am enjoying tremendously coming up with ideas and sending them out in the world.

Many writers, when they’re first starting out, think of querying or pitching as a necessary step to get established, which is, of course quite true. What most people assume though, is that once they’re a bit established either with a publication or with their career in general, the pitching levels will go down and editors will start coming to them regularly with stories.

That is also true, but I think it’s important to remember that as a freelancer (or any journalist, really), you’re never going to stop pitching. The pitches themselves might change– your editor may be cool with a one-line e-mail or a quick phone call instead of a 500-word outline– but you’re still going to be keeping an eye out for interesting stories, and still coming up with ways to convince your editors why they should publish them. This is especially true if you work outside of the country where the publication is based, or if you’re more interested in writing on topics that appeal to you.

Would it surprise you if I told you that I’ve been sending one pitch a day for the past month? (I have three deadlines next week, though, and should probably STOP!)

Actually, part of my yearly goals is to make one marketing effort a day (if I’ve made five in one day though, I’m off the hook for the next four days), so that even if editors are taking their own sweet time to assign stories, I’m not sitting idle. More than that, as I’ve discussed on the blog before, I’m really interested on focusing on subjects that interest me, and that maybe haven’t been written about a lot already. Then again, if my editors are sitting in the US or UK, I’m going to have a much more informed idea of what’s happening in this country, and why their readers might be interested in knowing about it. I’m more likely to come up with untold stories than they are because they’re dependent on the media to get them the information, whereas I’m working my sources.

Regardless of the reasons, the truth is, I quite enjoy pitching for the most part. Finding an idea that gets you excited and then writing to an editor with the potential that idea holds, is the honeymoon phase of the project– when all possibilities exist and anything could happen.

I’m currently starry-eyed about a story idea that I think has the potential for a series in one of the big international newspapers. For now, as I pitch, I’ll dream of how it’s going to turn out. I’ll deal with the reality once the editor gets back to me on it.

19 Jun 2009 The Grunt Work, Up Front
 |  Category: Life, Love, Writing  | Tags: , ,  | 2 Comments

There is a method to this madness, I keep telling myself, as I wade through dozens of pages of research that I’ve collected. It’s always the same routine. I’ve over researched the topic, and I’m still at the idea/query stage.

I shared the pitch that landed me my first assignment with Ms. magazine on a writer’s message board a few weeks ago, and a friend asked if I really put all that effort into researching every single query?

Well, it depends.

The article I wrote for Ms. was about sex education in India (several states had banned sex education saying it was against Indian culture) and how the lack of it is sending kids straight to the Internet. The information they are going to find there is going to prove detrimental, I wrote. But education is just the first step. Access to contraceptives is a whole other battle. And then I went on to talk about how unmarried women who try to buy contraceptives or get sex advice from their doctors are treated with disrespect. I had already spoken to one woman who had sounded off about her experience and I mentioned her.

This is not news to anyone who has been in India for more than two weeks, and it is a topic I write about frequently. The query probably took about fifteen minutes to write and send out. I’d recently been interviewed on the subject, so I didn’t even have to look it up.

Other pitches aren’t always so straightforward. The thing is, before you can pitch a story, you have to know that there is a story to write and that there are people who will speak with you about it. That takes some work.

Of course, how much work you have to put in a story upfront really depends on the kind of subject you’re tackling, but let’s say you’re writing about a cool trend that would appeal to a women’s magazine. Well, the first thing you know you’re going to have to answer is, how do you know it’s a trend? Do you have numbers? Off you go to find them. Typically, I don’t do interviews before I’ve been handed an assignment, but I’ve now learned that it may be wise to do so when dealing with sensitive subjects. When writing about virginity restoration, with a deadline of a week, I got very close to losing my mind when trying to find a woman to talk on record. So if it’s a sensitive subject, off you go to find interviewees. If it’s a project, will the people running it speak with you?

I’ll typically also run a Google search to see what, if anything, has been previously written about the topic. All this takes an hour or two at most, and I’m ready to answer most of the questions the editor has about the subject and how I’m planning to report on it.

When I invest time and energy in an idea, more than an editor, I want to be convinced that I’m not on some wild goose chase and that there is a story there that I’m interested in. By the time I’m done researching it, I’m usually excited and ready to go. The query all but writes itself.

Usually, the article does too. But without a solid idea and a solid pitch, there’s always the chance that the piece will fall apart when you actually go off to report.

How much work do you put in your pitches? Do you wait for the go-ahead from the editor to do the primary reporting or are you so sure of selling your piece that you don’t mind putting in some extra work up-front?

22 Jan 2009 (Unproductive) Day in the Life of a Freelance Writer

7 p.m. Boyfriend calls. Turn cell phone off, roll over and go back to sleep.

7.30 p.m. Grumble grumble. Force self out of bed. It’s time to start the day.

7.40 p.m. Make tea. Eyes remain half-closed.

8 p.m. Call boyfriend in India, wish him a good day, tell him I’m currently working on his time zone and hence available to talk throughout the night.

8.10 p.m. Cook, feed self. Shower, make self presentable for no apparent reason. Wonder if putting on lipstick to work through the night is a nonsensical idea. Decide it is. Make more tea.

9 p.m. What’s going on in the world today? Read news. Read blogs. Get depressed after hearing that 2008 was the worst year for layoffs since World War II. E-mail client-gone-missing: “Did you get my invoice?” Leave out the part where I call her a cheating lying scumbag who is trying to run away with my hard-earned money. Think that might be a tad too strong, seeing as I was the one who forgot to invoice. Am a journalist. Can keep emotion out of it. Also know that friend works in senior management in that company. Am sure to get paid.

10.42 p.m. Log on to writer’s forum. Make a few notes about new writing markets, magazines that are folding, and editors who are hiring. Go into further depression. Why did I choose this career again?

11.49 p.m. Decide writing “A Day in the Life of a Freelance Writer” might be a fun idea. Retrace steps. Consider making more tea. Decide to wait half an hour.

11.53 p.m. Make a list of the things that need doing today. Twitter it.

11.59 p.m. Make tough decision about responding to a certain new-to-me editor. The work is good, the money bad. Want to do it. But don’t want to continue writing for low pay. Reject her offer and ask her to reconsider.

12.01 a.m. Look at the spring calendar for Berkeley in order to plan the next move. E-mail friends around the country for their plans in May, which is when I’m supposed to leave The Bay Area. J offers to show me around NYC.

12.14 a.m. Log on to Facebook. See photos of journalist friends from Berkeley who’re currently visiting Delhi and Bombay. Feel jealous and a little bit homesick. Call Mom. She says she’s busy and to call Dad instead. He tells me to hang in there; the economy has no place to go but up. Don’t really believe him, but play along.

12.21 a.m. Make tea. Drink tea while listening to music. Sing loudly along to “Our Time Now” by Plain White T’s. Hear roommate’s door opening. Shut up quickly.

12.59 a.m. Spend time researching new markets. Send out three Letters of Introduction and get back one e-mail verification note. Go through due process to make sure e-mail is received. Find this highly annoying.

1.27 a.m. Spend way too much time trying to locate contact information for an editor who works at an online publication, has LinkedIn and Facebook pages, and even writes a blog. But does he put his e-mail address on any of them? Nope.

1.34 a.m. Success. Send off another LOI. Have no idea what they pay, so can’t be fussed to write a query.

1.36 a.m. Get bounce message from editor’s mailbox. They really make it fucking difficult, don’t they? Give up. Need a break. Watch Meet the Press on iTunes.

2.34 a.m. Respond to publicist who’s sent me an idea about a client that (surprise) I can actually use. E-mail and ask for a copy of the client’s book.

2.38 a.m. Friend e-mails to say she’s back in Berkeley and do I want to have dinner? I do. I’m going to have to change my schedule again if I want to see her, but she’s one of the most adorable people on the planet, so I’ll make the sacrifice. She better be buying. Strike that. Tell her I’m broke, and she suggests she come over to my place instead. Agree happily.

2.47 a.m. Have a dozen e-mails to respond to. Challenge self to finish those before starting edits on a piece due tomorrow.

2.53 a.m. Boy, there sure is a lot of e-mail. One informs me that Slumdog Millionaire won several awards at the Golden Globes! Woo! Get all giddy and try not to start congratulating people in Hindi, but am thoroughly pleased that good Indian movies are being made and receiving international recognition. Even if they needed that little support from the Brits.

3.05 a.m. Should stop responding to e-mails. No sooner have I hit “send” that a new response arrives. Don’t people ever sleep?

3.22 a.m. God, how I miss spicy Indian food. Don’t know where that thought came from. Feel hungry. Time for uh… lunch.

3.28 a.m. Eating old (and possibly bad) ham and pretzels (yeah together), and watching a PBS special on Afghanistan on iTunes. Call boyfriend to tell him about it, and he tells me he’s going to Pakistan.

“Bastard,” I say.

“Thanks, darling. I thought you’d be happy for me instead of calling me a bastard.”

“It’s only because I’m jealous.”

“They don’t want your kind there, that’s all.”

“Clearly.”

Have wanted to report from Pakistan since the day I became a journalist. Father was born in Pakistan, back when it was still a part of India. His family escaped to India after the partition. Indian journalists aren’t always welcome. Wonder if the same is true for Pakistani journalists in India. Make a mental note to ask Pakistani journalist friend when I see her next.

3.53 a.m. Reply to more e-mails. Will they never end?

4.03 a.m. Video chat with boyfriend. Make fun of American teenagers. Say “Technology is, like, you know, awesome,” in best American teenager voice. Make plans for spring break and end of semester.

5.15 a.m. Tibetan friend, who is a monk, writes to give an update on his life. He says, “We Tibetans say if you don’t make yourself happy, other people make you unhappy.” Twitter it.

5.27 a.m. Make tea. Hear from client-gone-missing who informs me that she was on vacation and just got back. She’ll be sending out my payment as soon as she can. Feel good that I didn’t call her a scumbag. Especially since I forgot to send her the invoice in the first place.

6.03 a.m. Have four edits due to a publication, so think I’ll finish those off today. The publication is a low payer, but I’ve needed the work, so I’ve kept going. They’ve just slashed their ridiculously low rates by half, so these edits is the last of what I’m doing for them. After that, sayonara suckers. Am not really motivated, but decide to finish these so I can move on with my life.

6.31 a.m. Editor e-mails. We’ve been negotiating. She asked for all rights. Said no can do. She’s just doubled the pay. Realize, as I make a note in my income goals list, that it’s almost the middle of the month and I have met half my monthly goal. Had set a target of three times my average income. Am pleased no end. Realize it’s the second time in a year an editor has doubled payment just because I asked. Must do more often.

7.15 a.m. One edit down. Three more to go. Need to go to the grocery store to buy food. Check the grocery store timings online. It opens at 9 a.m. Good.

7.20 a.m. Just saw a call for submissions to an anthology for women. Totally up my alley. Deadline’s in two days though (why did I not see this before?), and already have three deadlines in the next four days. We’ll see.

7.26 a.m. Books. The heart wants to write books. They’re closing magazines right and left, but they’re still publishing books, right?

7.37 a.m. These are not edits. These are bloody rewrites. Hate, hate, hate this publication. So happy I never have to write for them again. (Write under a pseudonym anyway, that’s how much I detest this work.)

8.05 a.m. Editor of Big Newspaper has asked me to do some research for an article she’s assigned. She wants to know what’s new about the topic I’m writing about. I start with Google.

8.31 a.m. Aha! Have found the perfect hook. E-mail my editor a revised story plan.

8.41 a.m. Am hungry. Time to go to the grocery store. Get dressed.

9.55 a.m. Am standing at the cash counter at the grocery store, waiting for my turn when I spot the magazine in front of me– Spirituality & Health. Something clicks. Oh! Have an article in this issue! Flip through– sure enough, my words and photography are in there. Am thrilled. Try not to point at photo in front and tell people around me, “That’s me!”

10.01 a.m. Buy all kinds of healthy food– ham, corn, pasta, potatoes. Get carried away and spend way more than I should. Then come home and have a big bowl of cereal.

10.08 a.m. To and fro with editor on the story I’m fleshing out. She keeps sending me questions. Research continuously and send back answers. Would be fun if I didn’t know that at the end of it, am going to have a fact-checker on my case demanding proof for every word I’ve uttered.

11.12 a.m. Off to read for an hour or two and then call it a night. G’nite, world.