“Would anyone be interested in a blog post about how I got started writing for the internet? Or like..no?” I tweeted a little while ago asking if any of my twitter pals/readers wanted to hear about how one twerpy millennial managed to channel the habit of blogging about cheese into an actual recurring writing gig at a few major websites.
No, seriously, I started this personal blog my freshman year of college, talking about quesadilla Tuesdays at my cafeteria. A few brave souls have emailed me after having read the whole of my blog archive, and it makes me cringe but also want to hug them. Who the hell cared about quesadilla Tuesdays? Well, no one. But you have to start somewhere, and describing my every day life was the place I began. I’ve been blogging for almost ten years, on a now-defunct site and a few variations of this here blog. I didn’t start trying to make money, or even thinking that anyone I didn’t know would read it. I started because I loved writing, and I continued because I needed writing. But eventually it did become something I wanted to start doing professionally, and this is how I broke into it.
One of my biggest frustrations in college was that my writing professors didn’t consider what I was doing online to be legitimate. They automatically assumed my work wasn’t valid, that it wasn’t “real writing,” mostly because it took place on the internet, where anyone could open a tumblr account and call themselves a writer (it should be noted that I am of the school of thought that if you are writing, anywhere, you are a writer). I took a class in freelance journalism writing and got a C minus, because my professor and I were always butting heads about the format of assignments. She did freelance work twenty and thirty years ago, back when you had to own the latest copy of Writer’s Digest and query publications by snail mail. That’s well and good, but I was already existing in the new, digital marketplace, and every time I tried to get a little guidance on it from the people who I was paying to teach me how to write, I got shut down.
So I graduated, armed with plenty of knowledge on how to submit to literary magazines that didn’t pay and, if I wanted to, try build a time machine back to 1993 and pitch a magazine article by typewriter. What I didn’t know was how to take what writing I was already doing and become a professional. Now, for the sake of this, I’m going to assume a base knowledge of almost nothing, which is what I had when I started out. Chances are you may know many bits of this already, so just skip ahead if you feel informed on the topic. (Also, keep in mind that I am in no way a big-time-writer-person who sips caviar off of little fancy crackers all day [do you even sip caviar, how would I know]. I have a day job. Writing is something I’m still working at breaking into full-time. But I recognize that I’ve worked hard to get to the position I am, and there are people trying to get here right now. So this is for you, if you’d like to hear about it.)
Writing. You know how I said the only thing that makes you a writer is if you write? Okay, but you’d be surprised how many people have asked me how they can write for internet publications like I do and then, when I ask if they’ve got a blog or a tumblr, they say “well, I don’t write yet, but I want to.” I mean, I’m not covering new ground here by telling you to write if you want to be a writer. Write about boys, write about school, write about your relationships or your politics or your thoughts on growing older. Write about whatever it is you want to say, but just do it.
I do have a couple of tips for the whole making-your-own-blog thing. It boils down to “Don’t do what I did,” basically. When I started, blogger was the main hub for writing stuff. Now I’m stuck with a blogger-hosted site, and while a friend of mine does the design work for it, it’s severely limited by the capabilities of blogger. I’m in the process of overhauling and sliding over to wordpress, but it’s long and slow and it’s gonna take me a while to iron out. In the meantime, my home site is a blog that doesn’t really look professional, which is less than ideal. Try for wordpress if you’re looking for a more traditional feel, or do tumblr – because it’s easy for people to follow you and very simple to play with the design on.
Anyway, once you’re writing, do so regularly. Even if you don’t get paid, even if only your mother reads it – it’s practice. I didn’t go from waxing poetic about quesadilla toppings and touching stranger’s knees to what I write about now with zero practice. It took a while before I started writing things that, while still rough, had a quality to them that made people care. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was building my style and voice, and none of that was wasted effort.
Now, you’re writing…and you want to get paid for it. Here’s what you do:
Pitching. Pitching is the first step to writing for websites other than your own. It functions as an introduction to your work, and a selling point for whatever it is you want to write for the website you’re pitching. It’s always a good idea to familiarize yourself with the site’s tone and content, so you can make sure they’d be interested in what you’re trying to write for them, and that they haven’t already covered it before. Some places will give you details on how to pitch and who to pitch to, and if you’re lucky, exactly what they’re looking for. Dig around on contact pages and mastheads and address your pitch to the proper channels, in their preferred format. It takes a little time to do your research, but it greatly increases your chances of succeeding.
Here’s an example of a successful pitch. I started writing for xoJane earlier this year based off a cold pitch I sent them (cold meaning unsolicited).
I’d crept around their site (and googled) for any tips on how they prefer to receive pitches. They like the suggested headline in the subject line, a few details on who you are and where you’ve written before/what you’ve written about, and then a short paragraph detailing the proposed piece. You don’t need to send a completed piece (chances are, unless it’s asked for, no site’s gonna read it if you send them a finished piece). Keep it direct and concise, while making sure it sounds interesting. It’s also good to ask about rates and let them know a date by which you’ll be taking the pitch to other sites.
Rejection will happen, for sure. I’ve been rejected a billion times (okay not really but it feels like it). Actually, I get article ideas rejected once or twice a week from the sites I freelance for. It’s not a personal insult, it’s really just a chance to retool and see what else works. Rejection sucks but if (oh god, this is so cheesy, I can’t believe I’m saying this honestly) you take it as an opportunity to get some insight on what you’re doing, it sucks way less. Also, a nice thing you can do if your pitch gets rejected is to take it to another site you think it would work for (something I do all the time. Recycling is good the earth and your brain too).
I’ve long had a list of the sites I want to write for. When HelloGiggles launched, I wanted to write for them desperately, and I’ve wanted to write for xoJane for ages too. Some places I haven’t worked up to pitching yet, but they’re on the list, like The Hairpin or The Awl. I would sell a kidney to be able to write for The Toast or The Butter or The Rumpus. It helps to be an avid consumer of the thing you want to create, and that in turn helps you when it comes time to decide who you’re going to pitch what to.
Listening. I don’t follow a lot of blogging rules of thumb when it comes to my personal site (the place you’re reading this on). I don’t have a public instagram, I don’t do scheduled tweets of links, I don’t do blog round ups or link ups or synchroblogs. I’m not a professional blogger. But I am a professional writer (please note I’m not saying the two don’t coexist, it’s just that bloggers make money off their personal blogs, and I don’t. I make money off writing for other sites), and that means adhering to the structures of the publications I’m writing for. So when one site asks me specifically not to use the Oxford comma, I don’t. When another site asks that I do, I do. I read all the style guides sent for the various places I sign on to freelance for. I follow their pitching guidelines (which can be vastly different across the board), their internal linking requests, their deadlines (and who to ask for an extension), and their invoicing procedures. Is it a headache sometimes to switch gears completely from one site to another? Yeah, it is. But I’m lucky to have the work, and it’s within my power to be doing everything I can to adhere to what they’re asking from me and what their readers want.
Editorial feedback, like rejection, is not a personal insult. I had to almost completely rewrite a piece a few weeks ago because an editor said the tone was off. And they were right, completely, for their site, and my finished draft was better for it. There’s no better way to piss an editor off than by not listening to them, whether it’s on policy or procedure or image credits. You’ll make a site much more willing to keep accepting your work if you try and listen to what their requirements are. This is something I had to learn along the way, and it’s something I’m still learning continually. But I’m better at it now that I was a few years ago, and I’m making every effort to do better all the time.
Asking. Something else that has helped me has been asking women who are in the field how they got there. The first site I was published on (which was unpaid, after cold pitching them) had a really great managing editor, who then asked me to write for this other little start up site she was going to work for (and that’s the short story of how I started writing for HelloGiggles). After working under her for about a year, I decided to take the plunge and ask her how she got into writing for websites (and being paid for it). She graciously replied, and her response helped propel me into being paid for my work.
It doesn’t hurt to ask for help or advice. Not everyone has the time or desire to give it to you, but some people will answer, and it will always help. I’m a member of a few online groups of women writers too, and the resources they have pooled together are amazing and have helped me get some of the opportunities I have. Sometimes I’ve asked really dumb questions of my editors, but I learned and I wouldn’t have been able to figure it out otherwise.
Connecting. This is also so damn cheesy but so damn true – Twitter has helped my writing in a huge way. Not only has it helped me develop (a very small, but very loyal) readership base, it’s also an every day lesson in what works and what doesn’t. Had I ever mentioned Twitter as a writing workshop to any of my professors, they would’ve laughed me out of their office. But it really does help me gauge what plays well, what falls flat, what’s got a lot of traction and viral capability. It’s also a nice chance to veer off into more obscure areas of my humor or writing style that I don’t necessarily want to spend a whole article on. Since tweeting became a big part of my online engagement, I’m also a lot better at concision and grabbing attention quick in my article writing.
If twitter isn’t for you, don’t worry, you can still totally be a writer and get paid for it. It’s just a really fun part of my work online and I love it a lot. I love the people I meet there, some of whom have become IRL friends who’s couches I’ve slept on and who have helped me through crying patches about boys and family. I love the ability to make someone laugh (please, I know I’m being the worst right now) and to be able to express myself to what feels like a big group of friends (gag me now). But twitter is also a really good ground for connecting professionally – some of the opportunities that have come my way have come from someone talking to me on twitter and asking “hey, I write for this place, do you wanna write for them too?”.
I also try and answer all of my emails from readers or people who want to connect with me after reading my work. Generally, I even answer the mean ones, unless they’re really gross. If you want to have a “readership” of any size, it helps to be gracious and connect with them if they reach out.
Paying. Okay, so, which sites pay and which don’t? And of the ones that do, how much do they pay? Is every accepted piece paid, or is their an internal guideline of which ones are and which aren’t? This isn’t something websites generally advertise on their contact page. There are places like
Who Pays Writers that endeavor to answer this question, but it’s not easy to figure out. I’m not gonna bullshit you, you will probably have to work for free for a little while to break into this. I don’t know anyone who started in paid work right off the bat, although I know, like unicorns, they might exist. I wrote for free for about a year before I started writing for money. I’m not saying a year is standard time; some people do it for far longer and some for less.
There’s a lot of debate among writers about writing for free. It’s similar to the ongoing internship debate. Basically, the thought is that you need some initial exposure to get your writing career off the ground and so it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. The site gets content, you get your name and work out there, everybody wins. The thing is, you’re really only winning for a little while, and eventually you’ll want to be able to make money doing this thing.
I can’t really tell you how long to keep writing for free, because it’s a personal choice. If you get your foot in the door somewhere and you really like their vision, you might want to write for free for them forever. That’s cool. Now that I’m in a position of freelancing, I do not write for for free. I don’t have the time to do so when I can be working on something that pays. But I know I’m lucky to be in that place, and I worked hard to be able to turn down free offers.
What I will say is to be sure you’re not being taken advantage of. If you know the site and trust the people you’re working with, that’s the most important thing. If you’re being asked to create a large volume of work, or being promised you’ll be paid per click (nonono), and it ends up being more commitment than it’s worth, walk away. There are plenty of people who will promise you exposure for free work and end up scamming you because no one reads their site anyway. I once created a concept for a column for a fairly new site, and after writing the initial piece for it, they stopped contacting me and a few months later I saw someone else there using my concept for them. Just be aware of who you’re working with and what the actual value of their exposure is.
Honestly, another good thing to do is ask. “What’s the rate for published pieces?” is something I include when cold pitching sites. If you determine doing it for free isn’t worth it for you, that’s cool. There is some work I will do for free, namely, anything I publish here on my personal blog. That’s for the sake of my own creative fulfillment. I have also contributed to projects with friends such as #FaithFeminisms because they’re important to me and it’s a grassroots effort. But if you want to get paid, keep hammering away at those pitches, and keep asking for what you’re worth.
That’s about what I’ve got for now, dudes. If you’ve got any questions, feel free to comment or shoot me an email. Also, I
wrote something about blogging a year or so ago that you may want to read, although it’s more about personal affects of writing publicly than the kind of writing I do now. Good luck, happy writing, & send me links to your work!
