Editorial team,
Pitching matters. A sharp pitch forces you to clarify your point, focus on your audience, and explain why busy readers should care. You’ll get early feedback—maybe a yes, maybe a no. Either way, you’re moving. If an editor bites, you’ve got buy-in and momentum. If they pass, you’ve still saved time and sharpened your thinking.
And pitches follow a surprisingly simple formula—one that’s so far been absent from the Harding Project Substack. Paragraph one grabs the editor’s attention and clearly lays out your proposed article. Paragraph two expands on the topic and explains why it matters to the publication’s audience. Paragraph three highlights why you’re the right person to write it, usually by sharing your relevant experience or past writing. Close out with appropriate deference to the editor and you’re done. Since pitching is essential to publishing, Harding readers would benefit from a quick guide.
By way of background: I’m Zachary Griffiths, a lieutenant colonel in the Army and a contributor to War on the Rocks, the Modern War Institute, and other outlets. About 40 of my pitches have succeeded; others, not.
If you’re interested, I’ll have a draft ready in the next couple weeks.
Thanks for your time,
Zach
As this example shows, pitching isn’t hard. But the pitch sells your idea to an editor, so it is important. And if you’re wrestling with an idea, writing a pitch forces you to distill the idea and will get you fast feedback on how to hone your piece, or whether to move on.
Anatomy of a Good Pitch
A good pitch has four parts: clear email subject line, hook the editor on the idea, explain why it matters, and establish your credibility.
Clear subject line. Many outlets recommend you start your email subject with “PITCH:” which is a good practice. Then lead with 5-6 words that very concisely hook your idea.
Lead with the idea. Your first few words in the email body must immediately grab attention and explain the concept in plain language. What’s the article about, and what’s the angle? Try to express your thesis in fewer than ten words. (“Pitches follow a surprisingly simple formula” is just six.) Be as clear and simple as possible.
Explain why it matters. Who’s the audience, and why should they care? What problem does it address? What makes it timely or valuable? This is where you show you know the outlet—what it’s published, and where your piece fits. Phrases like “one that’s so far been absent from the Harding Project Substack” or “Harding readers would benefit from a quick guide” help the editor picture your idea in their pages.
Establish your credibility. Why you? You don’t need a Pulitzer—just a relevant background. For Army writers, firsthand experience is often enough. If you're writing about training gaps, mention your role in a unit that faced them. If you’ve published before, mention where.
Then, close with a polite ask like “If this sounds like a fit, I’ll get started on a draft,” etc.
Some pitfalls
Pitches often fail when there’s a mismatch between the outlet, the idea, and the author’s experience—or when they stumble into one of these traps:
Too long. Keep it under 300 words.
Too vague. “I want to write about leadership” is not a pitch.
Too academic. Editors aren’t grading PME papers.
No audience in mind. Know who you're writing for.
No ask. Be clear about what you want from the editor.
Pitch Today
Good writing starts with a good idea—but publishing starts with a good pitch. Pitching isn’t a hurdle to jump; it’s part of the craft. Write it early. Write it clearly. Send it out. If it gets a yes, great. If not, revise and try again. You’ve lost nothing and learned something.
I see that you followed this format in your previous piece, asking for people to submit things on how professional writing has helped them.