Opinion

My freelancing experience: wanting to overcome my publisher distrust

Freelance writer Adam Abbasi-Sacca has called on all media publications to play with a straight bat when it comes to editorial submissions. Here's his experience as he sees it, and a way forward.

I did not want to be writing this. But as a freelance writer (freelancer), you rarely get to steer what work is deemed worthy of publication and what remains hidden in the vortex of a submission mailbox – never to see the light of day.

So here we are.

Disclaimer: I am not looking for sympathy from this piece. I am writing this to empower other writers in my situation to know they are not alone. To encourage them to keep writing and trusting.

In my case, I have used freelancing as an opportunity to contribute to the public discourse on a range of issues. I value the human experience and fervently believe in the power of sharing those experiences to learn, and to grow.

I have also been fortunate to have many examples published on a range of topics, like how to be successful in your final school exams, calling for environmental action or most recently advocating for post-vaccine clarity after an intensive lockdown period.

My process from ideation to publication is a routine: reflect on an idea that I am passionate about, draft a piece (usually 800 words) and reach out to an appropriate publisher as a proposal for publication. Sometimes I reach out directly to editors, but not often.

My strike rate for publication is around 10%. That is, 90% of my articles are unpublished. And that could be for many reasons; the writing is not strong enough; the topic is too controversial, or it does not speak to their audience. And for 90% of those failed submissions – no answer is provided.

But in the loudness of nil response, a series of questions have accumulated over the years in my overly analytical mind: Where does unpublished, submitted content end up? If it does enter the consciousness of an editor, will it be credited?

And not without reason.

Recently I returned from my first international trip (and flight) since the pandemic. Feeling chuffed with the growth I experienced during my adventure, I wrote about it. I wrote passionately about my journey, and that travel is not always about escaping your reality – but actually confronting it. I dedicated space in the submission to recognise my privilege to be able to travel in the first place.

I submitted the article to a publication I have previously contributed to. Unfortunately, it landed in the 90%, with no personalised response provided. This not a critique – their automated response clearly articulates that they are unable to respond to all submissions.

However, you could imagine my interest when one week later, in my honest opinion a similar post-pandemic travel piece was published to their website. While the contexts, countries and experiences differed, I felt there was similarity in scene-setting or voice, even if tailored to a different protagonist.

Now my first instinct was to contact the author and question the similarity between my submission a week prior and their piece. I also thought about how it could be resolved and contacting the Press Council or Media integrity bodies.

That optimism, however, quickly dissipated in the reality of being a small fish in a large, overly populated and well-fed pond. I do not have the power of a platform, thousands of followers, and an engaged audience.

All I have is a paper trail that demonstrates I submitted something ahead of a publication – but again professionals would know how to work around these parameters. (Note: I am not suggesting anyone has in this circumstance).

I am also not looking to shame any publishing houses in Australia; operating as a digital or non-digital news desk in 2022 is rough. Content saturation is like never before, probably made worse by working from home in a pandemic with not much else going on (missing those daily corona-case updates right about now.) I also love content – I want to know how I could be a more effective bag packer or whether it’s time to trial a new gym.

It did, though, leave me grappling with the age-old where do I go from here? Ultimately, that lies with how as an industry we work towards improving transparency and reinforcing trust between writers, contributors, staff and publishers.

I personally don’t want to see another freelancer who trusts in providing an unsolicited proposal to their publisher of choice, to have trust issues. To see their voice, or lines from their piece, pad out a new article with a different writer, under a different name. To want to stop contributing and shaping public dialogue as a result.

And I do believe we can work to rebuild that trusting relationship with transparency by taking small steps to guarantee submitted work will not be used or inform pieces published later.

An adversarial approach will do nothing to address the relationship that currently exists. I recognise that.

So, with acceptance, a brain full of unpublished stories and strong fingers committed to typing them out, as a member of the freelance community I am extending an olive branch.

We can do better.

Let’s work together. Let’s share our stories, inspire our readers. But let’s also keep it real.

Because the clicks are not worth the broken trust.

Adam Abbasi-Sacca is a freelance writer, and has a background in policy and international affairs. Contact on Instagram via @adamabbasi_

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