"A writer’s voice, perspective, and personality should shine through"
Editor Anushree Nande on what makes a great story pitch.
For the second edition of insight direct from professional editors, I spoke to Anushree Nande about what makes a great story pitch.
And don’t forget that you can find the previous Q&A, with Broccoli’s Stephanie Madewell, right here—completely free to read.
If you are an editor, or know an editor who might be interested in taking part in this series, please feel free to email me at thefreelancewritingnetwork@gmail.com or message me on Substack for further details.
First of all, can you tell us a little about your writing & editing experience?
Sure. I’ve been an editor for more than a decade, working with independent publishers and presses, websites, as well as with individual clients in the literary and football (soccer) landscape. My work spans everything from developmental editing to proofreading to book publicity to being a co-founder and managing editor for a New-York-founded startup enabling social entrepreneurship in kids through blogs, picture books and creative workshops, to being a senior digital editor for the award-winning Football Paradise which is known for its long-form storytelling and original accompanying artwork.
As a writer, I’m an indie-published author of fiction and creative non-fiction, and you can find my other work, including my football writing, and my literary coverage in reputed newspapers and magazines. I also write a free newsletter every alternate Sunday about books, writing, and more.
When a writer pitches you a story, what's the first thing you look for/at?
For this interview, I will focus mostly on my experience as a senior editor with Football Paradise, since it’s the role that involves the most consistent dealing with pitches.
A good pitch tells a complete story on its own merit, and will cause a spark, of excitement and of possibility, when you read it. That potential is the first thing I look for. It’s hard to encapsulate, but you know immediately whether a pitch has it.
Is there anything common across accepted pitches that you notice?
To add to my answer above, a good pitch is also one where the writer’s voice, their perspective, and their personality shines through. These pitches have a strong narrative voice, they have a clarity about the why (a piece needs to be written), why now, why them (to write it, and not anyone else), as well as, for pitches about events extensively covered, a unique narrative angle that sheds new light or highlights a facet others haven’t, and, finally, why us (these pitches show that they’ve read enough of our stories to know that theirs would be the perfect fit and addition).
How important is a suggested title as part of a pitch?
Coming up with catchy and relevant titles is a skill—some writers are good, others might not be, others still might learn to be (I definitely struggle at times still!), so we don’t insist on them (and even when writers send in suggested titles, there are SEO considerations for the backend). In many cases, there are anyway a lot of different internal editorial requirements within each organisation that we, as freelance writers, are not privy to or aware of, which dictate what a title is going to be. My advice would be to focus on crafting as good and as clear of a pitch as possible—if a potential title suggests itself, include that; if not, I personally haven’t had a pitch declined as a writer because I didn’t or couldn’t include a title!
How much do credentials and previous bylines matter to you?
They don’t. The strength of the pitch and their writing is all that matters. We’ve published many debut and upcoming writers over the years and will continue to do so. It’s one of my favourite parts of being an editor here, the discovery of such writers, and, in many cases, mentoring and working with them long-term.
How do you feel about follow-ups to pitches? When is too soon?
At FP, we try our best to respond within a few days of receipt, usually sooner (for time-sensitive pieces, there is naturally a different turnaround, so I’m not including them in this discussion), but there will be the odd time when an email slips through. My personal rule of thumb for follow-ups is one week.
And please keep in mind whether there are any public holidays around that time, if the editor has an out-of-office notification etc.
Are there any red flags in a pitch that immediately make you want to say no?
I feel like these will be pretty common for most editors across the board. Not reading submission guidelines properly, as well a clear lack of familiarity with the kind of stories we publish and so sending us pitches that we will never publish; pitches strewn with not just typos and grammatical errors, but also factual errors (this includes claiming that your pitched piece is the first about a topic when a simple online search proves otherwise). Even so, if a pitch has impressed us enough, we usually reach back out to the writer and give them another chance to pitch something that avoids the above pitfalls and might be a better fit.
What would make you want to work with a specific writer long term?
Beyond basic professionalism and common courtesy (which includes meeting deadlines, good communication, proactiveness and self-sufficiency, and so on)—and of course quality of work—it’s the ones whose writing is a joy to read and to edit, whose stories are written with care, are thoughtful and engaging, make you see things with fresh eyes or with a different eye, and, this is really important, make you feel.
Without wanting to sound corny, the editor-writer relationship is a special, specific kind of collaboration, with the aim of making a story the best version of itself in that writer’s narrative voice and vision. It requires mutual respect and trust, and both parties have to be open to new ways of seeing and learning, and willing to evolve as the process and work does. The best ones make this an all-round enriching experience, and you can sense the rapport very early on in working with any writer.




This one felt like someone opening a window in a stuffy room.
The breakdown of voice, perspective, and personality gave language to things so many writers feel but struggle to name. It’s easy to get lost trying to “sound like a writer,” but this piece gently reminds us that our voice isn’t a performance—it’s a return.
Really appreciated the permission here: to explore, to shift, to not have it all figured out. Voice, after all, is something we grow with—not into.