Full disclosure: As a full-time freelance journalist, I have one unfair advantage in getting work in this competitive zero-sum game: For more than 20 years I was an editor, and I still think like one. That helps me figure out what editors might want, and definitely what they expect in a working relationship with someone who is not on staff and therefore not going to get the preponderance of editorial attention and energy on any given day.

This helps keep me very busy writing about the things that interest me and getting paid a fair sum to do it. As a full-time freelancer, this year I will make less than I once did as a salaried editor, but more than I ever did as a salaried writer. I'm not getting rich, but it's a good income and I'm grateful to every one of my editors for it.

So, in the interest of improving the lives of editors everywhere, I'll tell you what they're thinking.

This is not advice on how to write well (see my tips on that here). Rather, these are insights into what editors want, on how to develop relationships that can help make you a go-to writer for assignments and ensure your pitches at least get a fair look.

Respect the editor

While the motivation for journalism should be all about informing readers and making the world a better place and [insert your tertiary personal motivation here], the business of writing starts with respecting the person you work for. And that would be your editor. That means:

  • Respect her skills. Defer to her judgement whenever it doesn't absolutely kill you. She's an expert at what she does, experienced at editing, which is a wholly different skill from writing. And it's her publication and her budget and her full-time job on the line, not yours. Also, know that every editor is different. One might edit a given article lightly, another might slash the hell out of it. Either approach can be "right," when done deftly and in line with each publication's mission and target audience. It's vital that you learn and appreciate the skills and quirks of each editor you work with.
  • Respect her needs. Like you, editors want to inform readers and make the world a better place. The motivational alignment ends there. Your editor has a publication's mission to fulfill, sections to populate and specific story needs every day. Pitch what she wants, not just what you're keen to write. Frame and scribble in a style and length that suits the publication and its readership, not your fancy — and yes, you must be flexible, especially if you aim to write for multiple publications. Also, try your very best to never say no to an assignment if it's in your wheelhouse — imagine, an editor needs you! — and if you must decline, explain why and express your humble apology.
  • Respect her time. Always respond promptly to questions, even if an editor is typically slow to get back to you. Plan your days and hours to better serve her, including time-zone adjustments. Pitch ideas during business hours, ideally the day before her weekly planning meeting, not Friday at 5 p.m. Find and secure permission to the images that support a story. And never ask her to do any editing or story shaping or looking things up that you should have done. Be embarrassed and upset with yourself over every typo and error, genuinely displeased with your wordiness, and aghast at making the same damn style mistakes over and over.

Of course, if you don't respect your editor, find another one. But first, look deep inside yourself and make sure you've fairly evaluated what the expectations from each person ought to be. The best editors, harried as they are, will give you at least a little feedback, maybe hold your hand through a difficult story now and then, and possibly sometimes make you feel loved and needed. None of those things are in their job descriptions, and you should be grateful for any praise or help, and never expect it, just as you wouldn't expect a plumber to ask you how to fix your leaky toilet.

Be reliably productive

Editors can ask staff writers to do anything they wish every single day. That gets stuff done, asap. So in freelancers, editors look for hard workers who are reliably consistent in their output and able to work quickly on timely topics. Quality comes first, of course, and quantity doesn't matter so much. What matters is that you can be counted on to be consistent, pitching and producing a story a month, or one a week, or maybe more—whatever pace makes sense for you and your editor.

As an editor, I almost always declined to work with freelancers who had no track record of productivity, even if just on their own blog, and who I perceived might be one-offs—no matter how great their pitch. It's just too much effort to do the paperwork, figure each other out on that first assignment, start developing a working relationship, only to have the freelancer disappear for weeks and weeks. I'd bend the rule now and then for a highly prominent writer, but even then, one-offs were usually a mistake in the grand scheme.

Publications don't thrive on that one great story you pitch; they endure by daily output. Whether it's your first pitch or you're already in the door, communicate subtly that you're serious about the business of freelancing and serving the publication's needs, that you're in it for the long haul, then perform accordingly. Editors want to know their investment in you will pay off over time.

Never miss a deadline

If I could, I'd add a giant period to this one. Sure, sometimes things go sideways. When they do:

Step 1: Work harder.

But yes, we're all human, and so are those frustratingly unresponsive sources sometimes, and occasionally things go really sideways. OK, then:

Step 2: Don't panic.

And try my trick: If a problem looms and I'm genuinely concerned I might not file the best possible story by deadline, I'll simply ask my editor, as far ahead of deadline as possible, "Do you have any wiggle room on the deadline? If so, I could use another day. If not, I'll file on time." Then I cross my fingers and hope to die. Thing is, editors often slate things (in their minds or as part of an actual documented plan) to run several days after the file date, perhaps simply to spread the good, non-breaking-news stuff out.

If you get a pass, bow to the deadline gods and kiss your editor's toes. If not, re-read Step 1. Oh, and don't ever abuse this tactic. Each precious pass is granted because of all the goodwill you've built up over months of on-time filings, and with each pass the clock resets.

Know your weaknesses

Sure, it's important to know your strengths in topic areas, story types, and writing style, and to play off them. But it's at least as important to have a firm grasp of what you can't do really well.

I'm notorious for pitching assignments about culture, when frankly I'm better at dancing and singing karaoke, and I promise you nobody wants to witness either. I also sometimes think I can crush it on 3,000-word features when I'm much better at shorter stuff. Point is: I've got a lot of experience as a science and health journalist and at news and short features (plus a pretty good contact list), and whenever I stray too far from that primary skill set, I risk disappointing editors and ultimately readers.

While it's important to spread your wings and expand your skills throughout your career, it's vital to also know where you can offer editors the greatest value, upping your odds of successful pitches and smooth editing experiences.

Don't pinch pennies

Would you rather have two $300 assignments or one $400 assignment, assuming each would be roughly the same amount of work? Let's say an editor offers you $300 for a story and you wanted $400. You can ask for more. And depending on the assignment, that may be the best approach. But I'll take the $300 just about every time, knowing that my agreeableness and helpfulness will lead to another assignment down the road.

I'm not suggesting you let yourself be abused. If the pay is too low, or if agreeing to it will leave a bad taste in your mouth, either ask for more or decline the assignment (and then don't feel bad for losing out on it!). But if you're developing a long-term relationship with an editor, or already have one, don't let the dimes get in the way of the dollars.

This is about the relationship. Editors are human, and they have limited budgets, and consciously or subconsciously, snubs can feel like, well, snubs.

Go the extra mile

Let's say an editor agrees to pay a certain sum for an 800-word, two-source story, and you agree to the terms, but then you enter a rabbit hole that requires additional interviews and 1,200 words. Do you ask for more? Some writers would answer, "Hell, yes!"

Not me. I agreed to something, and I'll see it through, and sure, maybe I have to work inordinately hard for the resulting pay, but there will be another story, sometime, somewhere, that comes together easily and makes up for it. Nobody wants to be asked for more money after an agreement has been made.

And anyway, wasn't this supposed to be all about the reader and making the world a better place (and enjoying the research and writing)? Do the right thing, and the assignments and payments will flow.

Develop a thick skin

Things won't always go your way. Pitches will be declined. Emails will go unanswered. Sometimes your work will stink and you'll spend more time on the rewrite than you did on the write. You and an editor may now and then disagree on the direction a story should go. Sometimes your opus will be whacked in half.

That's the writer's life. If you can't handle it, you won't be a successful freelancer in the long run. You'll either lose confidence and throw up your hands or you'll become known as a whiner.

Journalism is a cooperative effort between writer, editor(s), a copy desk if you're lucky, and sources — all aimed at serving readers. When you are most frustrated, when you've torn out half your hair and are pulling at the rest, that's when you are growing. Let your insecurities be your inspiration.

That's about it. Toss in a lot of raw talent and some basic writing skills you can hone, a heavy dose of persistence and a pinch of luck — and coffee, lots of coffee — and you're on your way to being a valued, go-to, very busy freelance journalist.