There’s a pale blue sweater that I’ve owned since I was in high school. It’s in tatters now—the zip no longer works, there are a few holes that aren’t visible unless you’re looking for them, and pockets that are shredded from the inside. But at home, I wear this blue sweater all the time.
I suspect it’s a comfort thing. There I’ll be, home from a meeting or dropping the child to school, or whatever, and I’ll be standing in front of the closet looking to change into something comfortable, and almost reflexively, my hand just reaches for this ugly little sweater every time. It’s soft, it’s comfortable, and even though it looks like it should have retired four years ago, I love how it just fits.
Each of us has our own version of the ugly blue sweater. Warm socks, perhaps, or a t-shirt that no longer fits but that you still wear to bed every night. The sweatshirt from college that has holes in it from all the weed you smoked back in the day.
I was thinking about this as I was lying in bed awake last night (because that’s how most of these editorials are born—a result of no sleep and too much caffeine). I bravely declared 2014 my Year of Six Figures last week and I figured that if I spent the months of January and February pitching like a maniac, I could probably get enough work to last me through the slow summer months. So I spent three hours on Monday sending four pitches… to an editor who buys most things I send his way and pays $300 per story. Oy.
Now, don’t get me wrong. $300 a story isn’t bad and I love working for this editor, but $300? That’s my comfort zone. I rarely accept assignments that fall below this rate and because this is an editor I’ve worked with more than a dozen times, I know exactly what he wants and so he ends up buying most ideas I come up with.
That $300-an-assignment editor, ladies and gentlemen, is my crummy blue sweater. (I know, I know, it’s amazing how that brilliance just flowed from my fingertips.)
Now here’s the thing. Last month, just before we all shut shop for the holidays, editors at three very prestigious publications—MIT Tech Review, Parents, and Mother Jones—told me they’d love to work with me and asked me to send them a few more ideas. But instead of coming back to work on Monday and sending out three brilliant queries to these people, what did I do? That’s right. I went straight to my comfort zone and pitched the editor who would send me an acceptance, albeit a low-paying one.
If I had to guess, I’d say there’s a good chance that you do this, too. And why wouldn’t you? It’s common sense and human nature. We’d rather have the $300 acceptance than the possibility of a $2-a-word rejection. I mean, logically, $300 guaranteed in the bank is better than the possibility of $3,000 that may or may not materialize, right? And I agree with you.
Which is why I suggest that you do both.
After spending this week pitching only editors I’ve worked with in the past and gaining some easy wins, I decided that if I wanted to up my game in 2014, I was going to have to balance the need for comfort and guaranteed income with riskier pitches that could have potentially higher rewards.
So, being the Indian that I am, I devised a system. For every two queries that I now send out that are in my comfort zone (because the two-year-old eats like he’s already practicing for the teen years and Mama needs to bring in the bacon) I send out one that is completely out of my league. This keeps me busy with work for my current clients and ensures that I’m bringing in money each month, but also helps me test out new markets and build relationships with editors I don’t yet know.
Blue sweaters are necessary in life. They provide comfort and security and a place to go when you’re feeling vulnerable. But this week, I challenge you to throw back that sweater into the closet and try something new. Step outside your immediate area of expertise. Set yourself a higher target. Take a bigger risk.
I’m going to send queries to those three editors at Parents, MIT Tech Review, and Mother Jones.
And you?