At the beginning of this year, I left my job as a public policy researcher in order to focus on writing and stay at home with my toddler and her newborn sister. It’s been, in a word, rough—and not just because writing with two small children around is extremely difficult.
Pitching is a draining, demoralizing business. If you don’t think so, congratulations on being better than me.
It’s probably because I haven’t learned to do it well, and I’ll get better, but sending traditional pitches to mainstream publications has turned up a whole lot of nothing for me. I’ve written for a few publications on Medium, and continued writing for Verily Magazine, a very good but small publication that I’ve contributed to for years. Other than that, nothing. Most of my pitches haven’t even got a response, let alone an acceptance.
It’s not exactly the rejection that is frustrating. I’m used to that, and I know it’s part of what it means to be a writer. But pouring all of my time and energy into formulating pitches without doing any actual writing is agonizing. Especially when I have so much that I want to write about.
In September, my husband and I sold our house along with almost everything in it, and moved our daughters, yellow lab, and four suitcases from Wisconsin to England in order to live out our (my) dreams of exploring Europe. I’m already aching to share the craziness of this wild experience.
I just can’t wait any longer.
I’m not giving up on pitching entirely. I’m currently in the middle of a pitching course, with the hopes of breaking into some bigger publications like I’ve always dreamed of. But in the meantime, I’m going to be writing about my life and family travels on Medium, as well as continuing to write for Verily Magazine. The audience will be smaller, but it’s better than waiting for someone to give me permission to write.